As Keith stood there, arms outstretched, you wondered what to do. After all, you couldn’t control what the effects of the keys would be. He could turn back into that scary Vinnie, or someone worse.
But then a thought struck you. What if you could control the changes after all? What if all you had to do was form a mental picture of the desired result?
You decided to give it a try. You pictured Keith as jacked, the way he had been a few minutes ago. You remembered his towering height, his steel-python-like arms, his pillared legs, his washboard abs, his giant pillow pecs. Instead of that olive shirt and jeans, you imagined him wearing tight khaki shorts and a white quarter-button shirt that clung to him for dear life. You imagined his hair being washed, cut, and combed; his face completely clean-shaven. You imagined some light smatterings of blond hair on his chest, arms, and legs; and a bulging package that strained credulity.
This was what you wanted. You closed your eyes, focused on this image of Keith, and clicked the keys.
After a moment of creaking and groaning, you heard a deep voice: “Not bad, I must say.”
You opened your eyes. There was the new Keith in front of you, just as you’d imagined him. He was grinning a perfect grin as he ran his hands all over his new body.
“Not bad at all.” He flexed an arm and you almost fainted. Keith had never worked out in his life; now thanks to you, he had the body of a demigod.
“Is this ok with you?” you asked.
“Of course it is! Now it’s my turn,” Keith said with a grin. You tossed the keys to him and waited for the shock of the beam to hit you.