Sylvia Tisdale trudged through the winding corridors of the research laboratory, her nose buried in a tissue and her hand gripping the memo. The R&D department was a world apart from the sterile, paper-and-pencil confines of her accounting cubicle. The buzzing of high-tech machinery and the hum of intense intellectual curiosity surrounded her as she approached the testing room. Each step felt like it was leading her closer to a leap into the unknown.
Inside the testing room, a trio of lab technicians stood at attention. Their lab coats were pristine, their faces marked by expressions of clinical detachment—though Sylvia suspected they were harboring a mix of excitement and nerves. Harriet, the head researcher for this particular experiment, greeted her with an oddly cheerful grin.
"Ah, Sylvia! Right on time. We're about to get started with our new transformation serum. This one’s really something special!"
Sylvia forced a smile, feeling the weight of her impending fate. "Great. So, what am I transforming into today?"
Dr. Harriet’s grin widened. "How do you feel about clowns?"
"Clowns?" Sylvia paused. She never really liked clowns, but she didn't hate or fear them either. In fact, she always thought the phobia so many had about them was kind of pathetic. "I don't really feel anything about them one way or another."
"Well, this serum will actually turn you into a real life clown," Dr. Harriet added. "The results vary, but you will look as if you are wearing clown makeup, and your hair will change into an unusual color. Two things are certain-your nose will inflate into a red ball that honks when squeezed, and your feet will stretch into enormous proportions. Your mind will be affected too-you will feel compelled to behave like a clown, and very likely display character traits you have long been repressing. Finally, your voice will sound silly, and you will punctuate your words with giggles. If you concentrate, you will be able to act serious, but it will still be in a rather clownlike fashion."
Sylvia, still skeptical but resigned to her fate, changed from her business suit into a white bathrobe, took off her shoes, undid her bun that let down her blonde hair halfway to her waist, and finally took a seat at the testing station. The lab technicians began preparing the serum, and Sylvia eyed the colorful vials with a mix of apprehension and curiosity.
The test was straightforward: a quick injection followed by a brief observation period. Sylvia barely had time to brace herself and close her eyes before the needle was in, and the serum began its work.
Sylvia's transformation was almost instantaneous; she opened her eyes and saw a touch of red at the bottom of her field of vision-and a smiling Dr. Harriet. "What a lovely auguste clown you make, Sylvia." She handed a mirror to Sylvia. "Have a look at the new you."
Sylvia's complexion was now a peachy-pinkish color, with white patches around her eyes and mouth. The white around her eyes stretched up into ovals that reached her forehead and were topped with black arched eyebrows, giving her a surprised look. Inside, her eyelids were shaded orange, and her eyes were outlined in black with long, curly eyelashes. Sylvia's muzzle was bordered with red blush and her lips were bright red and stretched into a wide, silly grin. At the very center of Sylvia's face her nose was a red orb the size of a tennis ball. Sylvia's blonde hair had become much thicker and curled into ringlets; even more surprising it was also bright green with orange and pink highlights.
Sylvia looked down at her body, her hands were the same pink as her face and her fingernails green like her hair. To her amazment, when she looked down further, she now had ridiculously long feet; her toes were nearly as wide as a shovel and the toenails perfectly pedicured and green.
Dr. Harriet helped Sylvia out of her chair; she was a little disoriented at first due to the new size of her feet. "We have a wide array of clothes ready to suit your new look. And shoes too of course; you won't be able to wear your old ones. Now, how do you feel?"
Sylvia, blinked. Gingerly she touched her new clown nose; it nearly filled up her hand and gave it a squeeze. HONK! "Heehe," she giggled, in a voice that sounded like she was breathing helium. "I feel, hee-hee, funny." She honked her nose again. "I think it cured my cold too, hee-hee."
"Well, glad we could help." As Dr. Harriet and a young male assistant led Sylvia to the wardrobe, the new clown sneezed. She didn't even have time to cover her big red nose; and the two-lab worker were caught directly in the way. "Hee-hee, sorry, hee-hee," she giggled.
"No harm done." Dr. Harrier opened the door to the closet. "Now, after you get dressed, you can go back to work; you still have the mental capacity to do your job. Your co-workers have been informed about your transformation and are prepared to accommodate you."
But Dr. Harriet was unaware that Sylvia's cold was not completely gone. For the remaining cold germs had been mutated into a Clown Virus, that would slowly but surely transform anyone exposed into a clown like Sylvia.
And Dr. Harriet and her male colleague had both just been affected.