Scott knew he could test his new DNA. He came up with the hypothesis that the hair sample he used, was an old string of hair. Maybe he was younger than 12? Wouldnt THAT be great? He wondered if it would be moticed. Most likely Angela....mom!....would.
"I have got to get used to start calling her "mom" now. Yet another bit of humiliation.
"At least my intelligence is still intact."
And so, he set up a DNA testing kit. A small bit of spit, which comes from a mouth thatbisnt supposed to be his. And 20 minutes later, he viewed the results:
His new racial nakeup: Hispanic, French, and Italian. And the age of.....his heart sank and his stomach dropped....10. TEN! "Ten years old!? I'm a ten year old version of the boy!?"
He walked back over to the statue. Looked at his young cute, innocent young little face. That face was now TWO YEARS OLDER than he was! No wonder he was so damn small! That hair sample he took off the bed was two years old! Didnt Angela was his sheets? Maybe it came from somewhere else in tbe house?
Scott stopped. Chilled. That hair could have been anyone's. Anything. It could have come from the cat! He could be a damn cat running around tbe house right now! He should been more careful. He should have tested it before using it.
"Well, at least I'm not a statue anyway." he muttered. "But still. I'm a damn 10 year old kid! But it should buy me some time to figure this out at least."
He walked away from the taller statue, still muttering to himself.
His next order of business, was to make "himself" disappear. He had the idea of driving his car into a river or a lake. People go missing all the time, and never found. Usually, they are presumed dead after a period of time.
And if Scott finds.....no, not "if" he finds, but "WHEN" he finds.... a cure for poor little Harry, then he can come back as himself. He was determined he would do it. But turnong rock into living cells, would prove to be....futile....
In the meantime, he grabbed his keys from the now over-sized former pants of his, and dashed up the steps with newfound vigour. He ran to his car, opened up the much heavier door, climbed into the oversized front seat. And realized he was now too short to reach the pedals!
At that moment, his...uh..."mother"...came rolling up the driveway!
"And what do you think you're doing young man?" she asked irritably as she stepped out if her car and began to approach him.
"I. Uh." Scott said in his soft, quiet 10 year old voice of his son's.
"Your father's car isn't a toy. Now give me these!" She reached in, and grabbed the keys from Scott's Harry hands.
"Now run in the house and get cleaned up. Ill be starting supper soon."
Scott just sat there, looking up at the much taller and larger woman with his new big, brown eyes in consternation. He wasn't used to being treated like a kid. Now he had no choice. Not only was he going to be treated like a kid, now he had to pretend like it was normal. He realized his current mission was a setback. Scott was now Harry, and he had to play the part.
"Ok, " he sighed. He looked back.up at her, fullt aware tgat Harry's puppy-dog eyes always melted her heart.
"What are we having for supper?"
Angela smiled at him with loving affection, believing Scott to be her little boy.
"Lasagna."
"Oooh! Alright!"
"And brussels sprouts, " she added.
Scott knew that Harry hated his greens. But Scott liked them. He tried to act disappointed, which came out all too easily and naturally.
"Awww I hate those things!" he whined a little too much like the kid he had become.
"Don't start already. Just get your little behind upstairs and get a shower.
"Fine!" he said, hopping out of the car and towards the house.
Angela noticed something was a bit off about her boy. Was it his weight? Had he lost some weight? He wasnt at all fat. But his clothes were looking a bit too large for him. She shook her head, assuming it must just be stress.
Meanwhile, Scott went bounding up the steps, two at a time with his newfound energy he didn't know what to do with. By this time, he was starting to get a little used to his new short stature. He automatically went towards his and Angela's shared bedroom in order to grab his towel and a new set of clothes. But he stopped, remembering who he was supposed to.
"Harry. I'm Harry!" he told himself. "I'm Harry, " he said one more time, a bit glumly.
Sighing, he headed towards Harry's bedroom. Or rather, his own room now. Stepping inside, he looked around. "Cool!" He chirped, looking at all the cool stuff through child's eyes.
He shook his head, realizing how interesting he found this room to suddenly be with all of its sports memorabilia for a 12 year boy, with car models, and a rocket on a shelf. It worried him, making him think that maybe he will end up with the brain of a ten year old afterall.
"No! I won't let it happen!" he said determinedly.
"Harry, I don't hear the shower running!"
"Right! Shower!" he thought.
"Harry?" she yelled up at him again.
"Ok, mom! Gimme me a minute!" he yelled back.
"Mom" came a little too easily as well, he though with trepidation. "Anyway, I gotta put up with this charade a little while longer." He began to want to be back with his adult body. Butnin order to do that, he needed to find a way to restore the real Harry. But one thing at a time.
He went over to the dresser, and opened the top drawer. Some boys' boxerbriefs that should prove to be too small for him. But now will be too large. He knew Harry liked his pajamas, and had various pajama bottoms on the bottom drawer. He opened it, and pulled out a baby blue pair of pajama pants. He then pulled out a white undershirt from the sexond drawer from the top. With clothes in hand, he went to the bathroom.
Scott began to strip. Taking off the shoes and socks first, then pulling down the pants fron hus skinny little waist without needing to undo them. The briefs went with them, revealing a tiny, smooth ittle nubbin between his baby-smooth legs! His heart sank, as he got a sinking feeling in hus gut. Next came the shirt, revealing his little ten year old boy torso. Not a single wisp of hair anywhere! He wandered over to the mirror to look at himself for the first time. The shock was overwhelming.
Staring back, was the tiny angelic face of a ten year old boy! Even though he knew what happened. What he purposely did to himself. It never really hit home until he looked in the mirror, despite the telltale signs of how short and little he had become. Hell, the sink itself was only chest-high! But to see the handsome young boy's face staring back at him.....a version TWO YEARS YOUNGER than the boy......was one hell of a shock. It solidified in his mind that he was now well and truly a KID!