Alice held her huge stomach, looking thoughtful for a minute. "Look, I... I need help, just..." She eased herself to her feet, casual-like, walking around the lifeguard. She wasn't going to stay in this fucked up show. She... was wasn't going to be teenage pregnant! "Just give me a second, OK?" she said, before leaning out, slapping a hand onto the remote, accidentally hitting a few buttons. Fortunately, it seemed to work, she felt herself dissolving and being pulled, pulled into another channel, where...
The alleyway was cool and grey, the scene being at night. Alice found herself walking down it, or rather, waddling. She was in a pair of maternity dungarees over a pink t-shirt, her tits still lewdly swollen just like her huge stomach. She was still pregnant, but at least she was out of that show. But where was she? It seemed to be some city at night, and she was walking alone, which wasn't good.
Towards the end of the alleyway, she suddenly nearly collided with a man. He was tall, reedy, in a black suit, looking anywhere between 30 and 50, curiously formal, with thin lips and pale blonde hair, nearly white. "Oh, excuse me, miss," he said politely.
Alice smiled awkwardly. "Oh, uh, sorry, I didn't see you there."
"Nor did I see you. Curiously, given how obviously far along you are, miss."
She cringed, holding her stomach. "Well, uh... It wasn't my intention, but I seem to be stuck with it..."
The man looked pensive. "You know, I may have a solution to your woes..." And somehow she found herself going along with this man, chatting to him. He introduced himself as Bartleby, he was a researcher, and he lived nearby. He led Alice to his house nearby, a huge granite edifice of stately Gothic design, the interior all aged books and dark wooden furniture, very old-fashioned. He helped her into a chair, which was curiously opposite a covered mannequin.
"Now, I think we can solve your issue quite readily, Miss." Alice looked up at him quizzically.
"Well, I don't see how, it's a little late to do anything about it..." She trailed off as he pulled the cover off of the mannequin. It... looked utterly unremarkable, a plastic mannequin with metal hinges, not even particularly lifelike. But there was a sinister air to all of this. And Bartleby had moved behind her to do... something?