The cop was still standing at the window when Dave felt an even stranger feeling wash over him. He'd already been wondering why he was having trouble seeing over the steering wheel. Now the steering wheel lurched even higher and the window shot up over his head. He sat there on the leather seat for a moment feeling disoriented. The loose seatbelt covered his whole lap. He'd suddenly shrunk to the size of a doll. A Barbie doll he realized when he stood up on the seat. He was in awe of the cab of the truck looming around him like an auditorium. He'd barely been able to sit without his head hitting the ceiling that morning.
Suddenly the truck door opened. The cop had been surprised when the trucker suddenly disappeared from view and cautiously investigated. When he saw the small, hunky middle-aged man standing on the seat, his mouth hung open. Officer Jeff Smith was a young rookie cop, a muscle bear cub, who lived with his husband Sam and Sam's teenaged son Ryan. He'd never seen anything like the shrunken Dave.