It can be argued that there are three classes of rich people in New England. The first class is the most prestigious-the bloodlines that can trace their lineage all the way back to England hundreds of years ago, and came to America during the colonial or revolutionary period. This group is powerful and insular, and has done its best to resist both the passage of time, and the arrival of new blood. The second class is the next-most prestigious, which consists of the financial and industrial families that became established in the 19th century. Envious of the first class' prestige, many members of the second class have mingled with the first class, marrying into the more impoverished families of that social group. The last class is the nouveau riche, and members of this class are despised by both the first and second class. Having established themselves in the 20th century, members of this group have considerably less influence than the other classes, barring certain exceptions-such as a famous family of bootleggers-turned-politicians.
It was a member of the third class that would receive a fateful package from the Boro corporation. More specifically, a young man called Jamison Reeves. He was 29 years old, and the sole heir to the Reeves fortune. While taking classes in Europe during the Summer, his entire family went on a lavish yachting vacation. There was a squall near the Horn of Africa, and the yacht capsized. Search teams were sent out, but nobody was ever found. What this meant, of course, was that Jamison inherited his family's multi-million dollar fortune.
All the money in the world, though, wouldn't bring his family back. After graduating from his ivy league college, Jamison fell into idleness and ennui. He didn't need to work, since he had all the money he could ever want. Instead, he filled his days with sex, partying, drugs, and videogames. These activities kept him awake into the wee hours of the morning, and he usually went to sleep at around sunrise. Even then, it wasn't uncommon for him to browse the internet and check messages on his phone while he was in bed. Going to sleep at 9 or 10 AM wasn't unheard for Jamison, he was no morning person.
Due to this night-owl lifestyle, it was no surprise that he woke up at 5 PM today. Getting out of his lavishly plush bed, he gave an exasperated groan. After using the bathroom, he leaned forward and looked at his reflection. He wasn't doing too badly for 29. He was in decent shape, and did a little working out. The booze and poor dieting was slowly catching up to him, though, and his midsection was beginning to lose its muscle definition. Of course, you'd be hard pressed to notice this change, since he was a rather hirsute man. Except for, ironically, the thinning hairs on top of his head. Like any young man, Jamison was concerned by the steady thinning of his hairline.
Every day, with his sky-blue eyes, he'd study his hair loss. His hairline was naturally high, and this didn't do him any favors. He kept his raven hair cut short, almost in a buzzcut. Any longer, and the thinness of his hair would be made readily apparent. He even gelled up his coarse, bristly black hair, to disguise a small bald spot. He had tried to impede his hair loss, with varying degrees of success. Finasteride and Minoxidil did nothing for him, and he was unconvinced about the efficacy of hair transplants and hair plugs.
After Jamison looked at his hair, he sighed and then made himself a quick lunch, scrolling through his texts as he ate. Evidently, his friends were having a meet-up, so he would be going to a nightclub to rendezvous with them in a couple of hours. He left his sprawling mansion and walked down the long trail to his enormous mailbox. To his surprise, he had no mail...besides a hefty cardboard package. Raising an eyebrow, he shook the package, and heard loose things shaking around inside. Jamison shrugged, and carried the package to his mansion, curious to see what was inside.
Jamison once again raised an eyebrow as he opened the package. Inside was a couple of identical plastic bottles, and a pamphlet. Hefting one of the bottles in his hand, he studied the label, which read "Panacea". The bottles were avocado-green, and the front label was embossed with a lion that had an emerald-green mane. The planet Saturn was behind the lion.
The back of the bottle was bombastic, to say the least. The shampoo promised thicker, softer, shinier, and fuller hair. This was, of course, all explained away by little diagrams of hair follicles being bombarded by tiny orbs, which then adhered to the follicle and hair shaft to make it thicker.
Setting down the green bottle, Jamison picked up the pamphlet that came with the bottles. The pamphlet was also avocado-green, and it was illustrated with cartoon images of lions, with the planet Saturn off in the background. The pamphlet was peppy and cheerful, repeating much of what was said on the shampoo bottles, but it offered a little bit more information than the bottles. For starters, it plainly said that this shampoo was a product of "Vimuville Vitamins". The pamphlet also had a hotline number, in case there were any problems with their product. Finally, the pamphlet guaranteed complete satisfaction...or your money back.
Jamison had all the money that he could ever want, so a refund policy didn't mean much to him. However, he was acutely aware of his thinning hair, so he decided to give the shampoo a shot. Besides, he was about to go and take a shower anyway, might as well try out his new shampoo.
Stripping, Jamison stepped into his enormous walk-in shower, made from sculpted marble. The sides were carved so he could sit down as he showered, if he wanted to. But for now, he lathered up with his designer bodywash, rinsing his body clean. With only his hair left to wash, he reached for his Panacea shampoo, and sniffed the bottle. The shampoo smelled...fragrant. Like there was a rich blend of herbs and exotic spices. The odor was almost nostalgic. Squeezing the bottle gently, thick shampoo poured out onto Jamison's outstretched hand. The liquid was thick, almost and it was a resplendent emerald color. It seemed to draw in light, and the smallest hint of it made the liquid sparkle.
Jamison's scalp tingled as he lathered up his hair. Unbeknownst to him, Chemical Saturn was already at work. It attached itself to the strands of the man's hair, and coated the shafts. The shampoo then entered the follicle, before penetrating the dermis, working itself deeper and deeper into his scalp until it reached his bloodstream. Passing the blood-brain barrier, Chemical Saturn attached itself to key regions of his brain, before diffusing into the rest of his bloodstream. His organs and tissue would be slowly effected over time, but for now, there were immediate changes.
For starters, the lather that was covering Jamison's scalp was stimulating hair follicles. Some of them still produced meager strands of hair, and some of them had grown dormant due to hair loss. In any case, Jamison's hair follicles were operating in overtime. New strands of hair grew from each follicle, slightly longer and thicker than his current hairstyle. The old strands of hair were also stimulated by Chemical Saturn, and grew longer and thicker. In the end, the new and old strands of Jamison's hair had grown out collectively to a single inch, all one uniform length. His hair was much healthier now too, no longer able to stand up on end, too soft and silky to stand rigid on its own. Jamison now had a completely healthy head of raven hair, thick and full with no sign of thinning or balding. The rest of his body, though, continued to change.
Jamison usually had a thick pelt of body hair, but Chemical Saturn was working on his body hair follicles. The hair on his shoulders and back fell off, swept into the drain by the shower's water. The black hair coating the back of his hands was washed away, along with the strands covering his fingers. The hair covering his arms and legs thinned out, but a light dusting of hairs remained. His chest and stomach hair fell off, leaving his torso soft and smooth. Even the hair covering his feet was rinsed away, With the bulk of his body hair gone, Chemical Saturn worked on the remaining hair. Jamison's thick black armpit hair and pubic hair became softer than before, but not a single strand of hair there fell off. Instead, the thick hairs became paler, going from black, to a rich chocolate-brown color. His facial hair followed suit, becoming a soft brown peach fuzz.
The last change occurred around Jamison's midsection. The flabby fat there firmed up, becoming muscular again, like how Jamison had been in his early 20s. As you can see, Chemical Saturn had done its work, and repeated applications of the Panacea shampoo would speed up Jamison's changes. However, Chemical Saturn was floating in his bloodstream now. Whether he continued to use the shampoo or not, his regression had been set irrevocably into motion.
None of that mattered to Jamison, at the moment. He was too busy washing himself. And for some reason, when he started to lather up his hair, he felt a lot better. Like he was being filled up with energy. After rinsing himself off one last time, he chuckled to himself as he wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out of the shower.
As Jamison wiped away the fog from his mirror, he smiled at his reflection. He was looking good! He ran a hand through his thick black hair and chuckled some more. The fact that his hair was longer and thicker and softer than before didn't bother him at all. Nor did the fact that most of his body hair had fallen out. Why should he be worried about his body hair? He had armpit hair and pubes like any other adult. Besides, his hair felt great and his new look just felt...right. Like he had always looked this way.
Jamison shook his head and chuckled to himself. It almost felt like something was off, but that would be outrageous. He decided to distract himself with thoughts of his night out. If he was lucky...he could hook up with a cute girl tonight. For some reason, that thought really excited him, moreso than usual. Jamison felt his penis stir, and he smiled, patting his member. He was definitely going to get some action tonight.