“What?" I asked?
"You heard me, I want you to use it on me. I have a competition this weekend and could use a boost. I mean, if this thing can turn a grape into the size of an orange can you imagine what it could do for me?" Mr. Krebs said, a smirk coming to his face.
"But Mr. Dirksen said not to--" "Mr. Dirksen isn't here, is he. Now fire that thing up now," Mr. Krebs said folding his massive arms across his chest as if to try to intimidate me.
"Fine, but if anything goes wrong -- which it will, “I thought knowing what the machine was actually designed to do” - don't blame me." I said. "Deal."
"Just stand right there on the silver platform, " I said as Mr. Krebs moved into position. "Ready?"
"Am I!"
Jake flipped the switch and a bright beam struck Mr. Krebs before shutting off.
"Nothing happened. Are you sure you hit the right button? I think you messed up!” Mr. Krebs began yelling.
What he didn't notice while he was busy yelling about the machine not working was that his stubble was fading away. It vanished almost completely in the course of a few moments, leaving a faint fuzz on his lip and chin. He also didn't notice his clothing growing looser.
"I swear I did." "Well look again because I'm not any bigger." All while he was complaining, Mr. Krebs was growing rapidly younger.
He looked like a young-teen now, no longer the well-built gym teachee he was minutes before. The sleeves of his T-shirt were past his elbows, no longer tight-fitting and visibly sagging beneath his arms. Beneath his shirt Mr. Krebs felt some changes taking place - his chest was collapsing into itself, the hair that covered it sinking back into his skin and disappearing as he grew younger and younger. The hair beneath his armpits likewise retracted, as did the hair on his shins - shins that were gradually being obscured by shorts that sank ever lower.
His shoulders narrowed and his arms became scrawny as he was dragged back across the threshold of puberty, becoming just an 11-year-old boy.
Mr. Krebs shirt was in no way tight-fitting now, as all the muscles that used to inhabit it had shrunken to their eleven-year-old size.
"Wha..." Mr. Krebs said, observing the slackened nature of his shirt. He went to feel the shirt, and finally noticed his thinned physique. What he saw frightened him. He saw a shirt, moments ago tight-fitting on his muscular frame, hanging sadly on his skinny eleven-year-old frame.
Mr. Krebs yelped, his voice slipping to a high pitch at the end of the yelp. He had shortened noticeably by now, his face having regained a boyish appearance, leaving him a skinny little kid standing pathetically in his oversized shirt which washed over him, becoming like a giant tent over his youthful frame.
"Help me!" he pleaded, staring up Jake with impossibly large eyes set beneath a mop of light-blonde hair in disbelief of what had happened.