"That one!"
Jerry pointed at the uniform meant for this 8-year-old named Carl. As far as he was concerned, Jerry was one ridiculously undersized uniform away from having his choice of clothes, free of charge no less! A sweet deal like that was worth it all, and, beyond doubt, he had already won this bet.
"There you go," Jim replied. He seemed quite unfazed by his customer's skepticism as he handed him his clothes. "a guarantee's a guarantee; you'll find that it's just the right fit for you."
Not wanting to prolong this conversation, Jerry headed over to the fitting room where he laid down his cellophane-wrapped little league's uniform. "This guy.." He murmured, "is he some kinda loon? Whatever, I'm getting my free, adult-sized outfits when all this is done-- thank you very much."
With his back turned to the mirror and all his clothes - save for his underwear - off, Jerry unwrapped this Carl's uniform, deciding to try on the baseball jersey; a small, white jersey proudly bearing the logo of a local team. Realistically, it should've ripped with just enough pressure from his larger frame, but Jerry found that it held itself quite well -- heck, it even felt a bit stretchier than he initially imagined. Must be some fine materials, he thought. However, unbeknownst to him, the jersey triggered his frame to grow smaller, leaner, reducing his body hair to mere wisps.
But the task was still at hand and that was squeezing himself into these small knicker pants. "Well, here goes nothing..." Jerry said. Likewise, expecting nothing but an impossibly-small fit, Jerry was surprised again to find himself sneaking not one, but two feet in! Even stranger was that his mind was too benumbed, transfixed by Jim's offer to care at this point -- for Jerry, since he had gotten this far, he had to commit to it.
Jerry mumbled to himself again; unaware of his voice reaching higher octaves, something approaching early adolescence, if not younger.
"Just a few more touches."
The regressing man then went on, as if by reflex, girding a belt around his now-fitting baseball pants as he tucked his jersey into them. Jerry was so engrossed in the process of putting his uniform on that his ever-lowering field of vision didn't seem to prompt any reaction; the desire to get this over with for his guaranteed offer had been subdued by a sense of giddiness, an inexplicable feeling that kept his mind absent as his height dwindled to 4'2; his features contorting and pulsing, his calluses regaining their softness and his face, fuller and rounder with the remnants of baby-fat. By now, Jerry had a long left his twenties -- now by all accounts a boy no older than eight.
The finalizing touches came at last. As he put on his baseball cap, the raven-colored hair that he had been so proud of, maintained by years of hair gels and products had snaked back into a practical buzz cut, settling on a redder shade.
"Wait, a sec!" the boy exclaimed. Had he just snapped out of his hypnotism?
Turning around, he crossed glances with the reflection of a freckled, blue-eyed little league player, neatly dressed and geared up for his ballgame.