Ty mused, looking up at the still enormous Dustin. "Ever wish you were smaller?"
"All the time," snorted Dustin. "I'm a freak! All my friends tease me about it." He gestured to himself. "I mean, I like being big, but once I went past seven and a half feet, it got ridiculous. And look at my dick."
It was hard not to. Ty said, "Why don't you call one of your friends up and read the cards for him. Whatever you read for them, you lose and they gain."
Dustin snorted. "Like that's going to happen. You daring me or something?"
"Sure," Ty said. "I dare you."
Dustin shrugged and sat down on the couch, creaking under his he weight. He got the phone and a pencil to hit the speed dial. "Let's try Whit. He's always going on about being Mr. Swimsuit model."
Ty knew Whit. 6'2" with a smooth swimmer's build. "Make's sense."
Dustin waited a moment, then said, "Hey, Whit. Dustin here. Ty has this crazy fortunetelling thing going. Says I'm going to keep getting taller and my dick's going to keep getting longer over the next few years." Dustin paused, listening, then snorted, "Yeah, doesn't take much of a fortuneteller for that, but he dared me to tell you what's going to happen to you." Dustin picked up the cards. "How many cards do you want me to read?" He listened. "Yeah, I know it's lame. It's a dare. Okay, five then." Dustin turned over the first. The ten of diamonds. At once he shrank down to 7'7" and Ty knew that on the other end of the line, Whit had sprouted up to 7' even. "You're going to grow ten inches." He paused. "What do you mean, you just did? You ripped out of your clothes? Yeah, right." Dustin snorted. "Okay, next thing that happens...." He flipped a card, the jack of spades. "Your dick grows ten inches too." Dustin chuckled as his own dick reeled back up ten inches. "Man, you're doing a good job of faking a panic attack." Dustin flipped a card. The King of Clubs.
Dustin hadn't gotten any extra hair, and Ty felt his magic sucking the extra hair out of him instead. Ty watched as he became as smooth as Dustin, while on the other end of the phone, Whit was becoming a hairball.
"And you just got hairy too," Dustin said. He listened. "Yeah, right, I know you're as smooth as me and Ty." He flipped another card idly. The seven of spades. Dustin's dick reeled up further, becoming now something vaguely reasonable, while he listened to Whit freak out on the phone. "Uh huh. Okay, here's the last card." He turned over the six of clubs and Ty watched Dustin go as bald as Lex Luthor. "You get even hairier. Yeah, right. It's just a stupid fortunetelling game. I did not just turn you into a wookie. I'm sure you'll have a great modeling career. Though I hope you get the extra height and dick Ty predicted for me, 'cause I'm tall enough as it is."
Ty thought this was a good wish to grant, so did. Whit sprouted up to 7'10" with his dick growing even more. Ty got a mental image of him as America's Top Wookie Model.