Alex stumbled when he tried to throw a punch, and a shadowy monster swirled behind him and pinned him by the arms.
Luke attempted a high kick, but he could barely get his ankle a foot off the ground. Soon both men were restrained. Vortagar laughed and floated closer. He examined each man, holding them by their double-chins and soaking in every detail of how he'd transformed them into middle-aged, out-of-shape schlubs.
"You'll never get away with this," Alex grumbled. "We're going to," he let out a loud belch, "find a way to change back."
Luke let out a loud, wet fart.
Vortagar waved the stink away from his face and floated backward. "I don't think either of you tubs of lard are up for much of anything. But just to make sure, why don't I advance my transformation." He twirled his staff and suddenly transported the two aged warriors into a strange fog-filled dimension. A big screen TV and a comfy couch materialized behind them.
"In order to stop you from seeking ways to break my spell, I'll need a distraction." The sorcerer clapped his hands, and the TV turned on to a football game. Both men plopped backwards onto the couch and groaned with relaxation. Two trays and side tables appeared full of pretzels, nachos, and stacked six packs of beer.
"Oh man," Luke moaned. "I'm hungry!"
Alex belched again. "Man, I sure could go for a beer."
"Help yourselves, warriors. As if you could resist my spell."
They each reached for a beer and a carbonated hiss erupted as they opened the cans and slugged back the contents. Immediately Luke and Alex's heads swam with disorientation and a strange, overwhelming satisfaction. They each unleashed a long, loud BELCH, and seconds later, their bodies blimped up, twice the size. Their bellies protruding, clothes shredding. Arms and legs beefed up with new layers of fat. Chins bloated out. Alex lost a considerable amount of the hair on top of his head and sprouted a salt and pepper mustache. They now looked like two huge, fat men in their late forties, big bellies exposed amid their tattered teenage clothes. "Hey look the game is on!" "Pass the pretzels." They proceeded to much on unhealthy snacks and chug beers.
"Perfect." Vortagar approached and rubbed their enormous bellies. "You're far too invested in being lazy fat sacks of lard to do anything to fight back now aren't you."
The former teen warriers merely stared and shoveled food in their mouths, barely aware of the evil wizard's taunts.
"I like you much better this way. Enjoy your time in my lazy fat man pocket dimension, where you'll grow fatter and lazier and dumber with every passing hour!" Vortagar cackled and disappeared.
Alex and Luke belched, ate, and zoned out, occassionally reaching down their tattered shorts to adjust their manhood. They knew something was off, but they sure were comfortable, and hey, the game was on, but even that didn't matter so much. Much better to just chug a beer, munch on some snacks, and zone out. After all, it's hard to move when you're a lazy fat man.