To say Jeff was overwhelmed would be an understatement. Not 4 hours ago he was dealing with the existential crisis of existing for the next 10-30 years as the old man's pipe. But then he awoke and was made to look like an Olympian in a speedo. How trapped he was, was demonstrated to him. Worse yet he was made to look like a consenting young adult and exposed to some of the man's unusual beliefs about manhood.
Mentally, Jeff was much the same, or so he thought. "Forced to obey commands is new, knowing how to drive is new, and smoking is new, but I still remember the teachers and kids at school, my parents and family, and don't remember college, working, or other adult things. I'm still me!" This thought and the nicotine coursing through his bloodstream seemed to help keep him calm.
Jeff found himself in a parking lot of a strip mall and looked up to see a seedy looking tobacco store. He recognized the town name but not being a driver before today had no concept of the direction from his original home. Despite feeling lost and out of control, he couldn't help but feel the same way he often felt about going to a game store with his mom. Jeff knew he had never been there but memories seemed to prod him toward the door from the back of his mind.
Entering, Jeff was hit with the rich aroma of tobacco smoke, and despite smoking being banned inside public places he knew he could smoke in here and felt a sense of relief. "No wonder the old man loves this place." Jeff thought bitterly continuing to puff the last remaining embers of his pipe.
"Ah a customer, anything in particular I can help you find?" Said a man looking a few years older than his father... uh, him. The man had a freshly lit cigar which he set down in an ashtray next to the cash register.
"Yessir Frank, I'm looking to get a new pipe." The words fell out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying. Jeff wondered why he had called this man Frank, but memories told him of long conversations they had "talking shop" and occasionally broaching each others' personal lives. The pair shared a moment of confusion, Frank for being called by a stranger in a familiar manner, Jeff for realizing he wasn't turned into any smoker but has the old man's history specifically. It now made sense why Jeff was told to pick out something he liked... he would remember liking exactly what the old man liked.
"Ay, do I know you?" Frank asked.
"Ah, no, sorry. Met a man while I was out and about who said you're the best place to go for miles. Not too many pipe enthusiasts nowadays."
Frank nodded, "True enough. To be honest, I could use more interest in the section. Only garners the interest of a handful of old farts such as yourself and the occasional hipster 20 something. Do the kids still say hipster?" Frank said playfully, Jeff smiled at the jab but was reminded that he needed to get back to the Chronivac and find a way back to his life or at least one he chooses for himself. Hipsters to Jeff are old people reaching their 30s but trying to be cool and elitist. Realizing that hipsters are only 2/3rds of his age gave him a small panic attack. Aging prematurely 3 times over and being a slave was not on his bucket list when he started this adventure.
The pair chatted idly for a good long while and Jeff found himself full of opinions way beyond the aesthetics. Weight, length, and style were some of the foremost concerns. The pair peered at the display discussing the benefits and drawbacks to each option and Jeff saw himself in a mirror realizing several minutes later that he shouldn't look like that and wanted to get a better look. After deliberating more than 45 minutes Jeff finally decided.
Frank walked off and Jeff finally got a chance to get a good look at himself, "Good man, nice choice!" Frank called from the storage area in the back.
A flood of feelings washed over Jeff as he bucked his hips and responded much in the same way he does to the "Good Boy" command but this was somehow even more intense and as he came to his senses a few second later he realized there was a huge amount of slime in the front of his pants.
"What was that?" Frank called from the back.
"I need some pipe tobacco too."
"Course course. On the display behind you."
Jeff picked up a brand he somehow knew he liked and made his way to the register grabbing the wallet in his back right pocket. Frank came out from the back and displayed the pipe before shutting the box and pulling a bag from below the counter. Jeff barely registered the cost but his fingers deftly pulled the bills and a moment later he was walking back to his... er the truck.
Looking both ways he saw a cop entering a Subway restaurant and desperately wanted to run to them for help before realizing he had no way to explain what was happening. The command would take over and he'd continue walking to the vehicle, "Help, I've been forcibly turned into a middle aged chain-smoker who can drive." Not exactly the most convincing cry for help, Jeff sighed.
Jeff shook the idea off, breaking into the loose leaf tobacco as soon as he got into the old truck. With shaking hands he was immediately refilling his pipe and lighting it from his stash of matches, taking a few deep drags out of desperation. The command took over a few seconds later and he was back on the road driving to his captor.
Arriving back to the property, Jeff was again struck mute. He knocked before letting himself in, placing the prize on the kitchen table. Immediately heading to the bathroom to clean himself up... Jeff knew the old man had some weird ideas in his head and didn't want to provoke some kind of absurd punishment or have his body changed more because some guy, said some phrase, that the weird old man set up carelessly to trigger when told, and not trigger by him.
Jeff grabbed wad after wad of toilet paper desperately trying to get the slick excrement of his new obnoxiously sized manhood out of his boxers. If this is the new normal every time he... well he was glad the old man set up a way to gratify him without making this kind of mess. What was he thinking?! This is a terrible situation and he needs to get back to something closer to normal!
A wave of warmth washed over Jeff and things seemed fuzzy for a second. He tossed the wad of toilet paper and flushed. Something... Something was up... He went out to the living room where the old man greeted him warmly... "Haha! Welcome back Jeff. Looks like I'm getting the hang of that chrono thingy after all. You were successful! If you had failed you'd have been my new pipe permanently, but I was right, there is hope for you! I bet you loved being a real man for a little while, but I can't have you getting too big for yer britches! You just need to know what your goal is." Jeff went to the toaster and gazed into its chrome finish to see he was no longer bearded, graying... or dressed, but details weren't very clear... Jeff looked at the old man in confusion, who curiously enough, wasn't packing the new pipe Jeff bought, or smoking at all. (Neither realized the trait transfer was a "move" action, not a "copy" action. The old man no longer is a smoker but still believes smoking to be a major part of masculinity.)