The next morning, he woke up with a full headache. “Man… I must’ve drank too much,” he thought to himself. “Fuuuuck. Need water. Gotta go to the gym.”
He heaved himself out of bed and went to go look in the mirror in the bathroom. Something… wasn’t quite right, but he couldn’t figure it out. He washed his face and put on some gym clothes.
“These are fucken dorky,” he thought. “I gotta order some Gym Shark or Virus. I can’t work out in this Target crap.”
Just then, his phone rang: his boss calling.
“Jack! I need you to log on from home. There’s an emergency and we need to know how to reset the reporting server.”
The… what? “The fuck you talking about? Who the fuck is this?”
“It’s Lisa.”
“Lisa who? I… who?”
“Did you get drunk last night? Your BOSS, Lisa. Get online now!”
“The fuck? I don’t know nothing about a server. I’m gonna go to the gym. This body isn’t going to attract any attention unless I get going.”
He hung up and scratched his head, then went back to the mirror. What was wrong? Was he always this weird skinny fat? What about muscles? He stared at his face, his eyes dull and his mouth slightly open. Well, no problem, a couple months in the gym and he’ll be a real… uh… uh… what was the word? Whatever.
He flipped on the TV as he got dressed. Someone was talking about some kind of reality glitch but it didn’t make any sense to Jack and he found himself staring instead at the handsome, tall, young reporter.