“Yo, Carl!” called Ben. Carl looked up and saw Ben tossing a baseball back and forth between his hands. “Catch!” Ben wound up and threw the ball at Carl, who caught it.
“Who taught you how to throw?” taunted Carl. “You throw like my grandma.” He threw the ball back at Ben, who nabbed it with one hand.
“BEN! CARL!” shouted Ethan. “Do not play games in here! We have a lot to figure out! Knock it off!”
Carl rolled his eyes. “You seriously think we’re going to listen to you? You did this to us and now you want us to obey you? Puh-lease.”
Ben tossed the ball back to Carl, who grabbed it and fired it straight back at Ben, who dove over the desk to get it and simply held it down on the ground.
Ethan roared in frustration and lunged for Ben, stooping down to grab the teenage boy by the arm. “I told you to stop! Now what are you going to—OW!”
He clapped one hand to the side of his neck and whirled around only to see Carl dancing around with a syringe. An empty syringe. He grabbed Carl. “You little asshole! I’m the only one who knows anything about this, so you better hope the knowledge doesn’t leave my h—!!!!” Just then Ben came up behind him and plunged a second syringe into Ethan’s arm.
“Ha ha!” called Ben in his cracking voice. “Enjoy being a BaBY again, you BuTThEaD!”
“NO!” screamed Ethan, but it was too late. He shuddered as the serum started to take effect. “I don’t know what will happen!”
His body started to tick back and forth as time rewrote itself. Ethan, a gym rat of long standing, started to scratch himself all over. “What is this ITCHING??” he screamed. He tore off his shirt, exposing a lean, muscular physique, and began scratching all over himself.
Ben and Carl stared as hair erupted on Ethan’s previously smooth chest, then spread to his neck, then his arms, and then, mercilessly, to his back. Ethan stared in the small mirror on the back of the door, only to realize he couldn’t see his head in it anymore.
“Oh shit,” said Carl softly, “look at him!” Ben looked over as Ethan suddenly stretched up, several inches taller than he was before. His muscles expanded outward in every direction, as his body fat plummeted. The hair kept thickening, as his hairline started to recede. His pants splitting, Ethan tore them off, leaving himself nude except for a pair of socks. He sported whorls of dark leg hair and a cock that must have measured ten inches soft. Ethan shuddered again, and grew even more. His eyebrows thickened noticeably and his brow ridge grew. He stood up in disbelief.
“Oh my God,” said Carl. “He’s gotta be eight feet tall.”
“You’re shorter than you were,” replied Ben, but he’s gotta be seven feet at least! And look at him!”
Just then Ethan clapped his huge, hairy hands over his privates, trying and failing to hide them. “What the FUCK did you two do to me?” he roared in a deep bass voice. “I oughta—whoa, dizzy.” He moved his hands to his head, brushing a thick, long beard that hadn’t been there an hour ago. He looked at Carl uncertainly and said, “Something is happening.”
Ben said, “Your hairline is growing.” Ethan knelt in front of the mirror, only to see his forehead shrink as the thick, dark hair moved back down it. He looked down at Carl. “What’s going on?”
Carl said, “It looks like you’re growing younger.” Ethan stared in the mirror as he shrank a few inches. The hair on his back and the backs of his hands started to lighten. He shrank again, as his cock rocketed to attention.
“Jesus,” whispered Ben, “that’s the biggest I’ve ever seen.” The monster tool started to quiver and then shrank an inch… two inches… four inches. Ethan cried out, “ThIs is HOrrIbLe! It feels so BaD!” as his larynx rearranged itself to a child in mid-adolescence. The doctor shrank again. “I don’t know when it’ll StOp,” he whined in a slightly higher vocal register.
Carl replied in his boyish alto, “It looks like it’s stopping.” Ethan sat down, exhausted, but Ben pulled him to his feet. “We need to see what happened,” he explained.
Ethan looked in the mirror at a young teenage man, clearly in puberty. His legs and chest were coated in thin, downy, dark hair. Large muscles belied his age. Ben led him over to the scale.
“You look about my age, but way hairier. And bigger. Let’s see.” He adjusted the levers. “One hundred and ninety pounds…” he moved the height marker, “and seventy five inches. Which is… uh…”
“Six foot ThReE,” replied the enormous teenager.