Dr. Clowngoggles, still grinning with wild satisfaction, knelt down and handed the Goofball Gun to Jake, whose tiny hands barely wrapped around its oversized barrel. The former baseball captain blinked, a confused yet playful expression on his face as he stared at the strange weapon.
"Here you go, Jake!" Dr. Clowngoggles said with a gleam in his eye. "Why don’t you give it a try on your teammates? Turn them into fun-loving little goofballs, just like you! Doesn’t that sound like a blast?"
Jake giggled, his eyes sparkling with childlike mischief as he glanced at the gun, then back at his fellow regressed players. The temptation swelled within him—a pull so strong that he almost pointed the gun at them without a second thought. But somewhere, deep inside his mind, a faint voice was trying to push through the fog of silliness that had taken over.
"I’m… I’m supposed to be a grown-up, right?" Jake muttered, looking down at the gun with furrowed brows. "I used to be… big and strong. I was the captain. I’m not… supposed to be a silly little kid, am I?"
One of his teammates, Tim, who had been the team's star pitcher, took a cautious step forward. Even though he was now the same size as Jake, there was still a sliver of adult reason left in him. "Jake, buddy, listen to me," Tim said urgently. "You’re right. You are supposed to be a grown man. We all are! You’ve got to snap out of this, man. Don’t let him turn you into a complete—"
Jake giggled again, his childish mind swerving back into focus. He lifted the Goofball Gun a little higher, its colorful lights gleaming in his eyes. "But… it’s fun being a goofball! It’s so much easier, Tim! No more stress, no more worries… Just playing all the time!" He spun in a little circle, the gun bouncing in his hand as he swayed. "Why wouldn’t we want to be silly kids forever?"
The other players exchanged nervous glances. One of them, Mike, the team's former catcher, raised his hands in desperation. "Jake, think about it! You’re the leader! You’ve always been the one who kept us together. Don’t let this happen! You’ve got to fight it!"
For a moment, Jake’s smile faltered. His adult self was clawing to break through. He stared at his teammates, their worried faces tugging at his memories of camaraderie, leadership, and responsibility. He had always been the anchor for these guys—the one they could count on. He blinked, his head spinning as the conflicting thoughts battled for control.
"I was… the captain," Jake mumbled, his voice trembling. "I… I can’t… I shouldn’t…"
But then, the giggle bubbled up again, light and uncontrollable. His childlike instincts were overpowering him, and the Goofball Gun in his hands felt like the most fun, exciting toy in the world. He grinned wide, the voice of reason fading into the background.
"Aww, come on!" Jake finally laughed, spinning the gun around and pointing it at Tim. "It’s just too much fun not to share!"
Before Tim could react, the Goofball Gun fired, enveloping him in a swirl of pink and purple energy. His expression of shock quickly melted into one of glee as the magic worked its way through his mind. His rational adult thoughts were swept away, replaced by silly, childish impulses. Tim let out a high-pitched giggle, clutching his stomach as he doubled over in laughter.
"Whoa! This is… awesome!" Tim squealed, hopping up and down like an overexcited kid. "Everything feels so funny now! Hehe!"
The other players gasped as they watched their former star pitcher collapse into a fit of giggles, no longer the focused, serious athlete they knew. He bounced around the field, making goofy faces and twirling like a little kid on a sugar high.
Jake beamed, feeling the rush of power and delight. "See? It’s so much better, guys!" He pointed the gun at Mike next, who raised his hands in fear.
"Jake, don’t!" Mike pleaded. "You don’t have to do this! Think about what we’re losing!"
But Jake’s finger was already on the trigger. Another blast of energy hit Mike, and within seconds, his expression of terror morphed into one of giddy joy. He stumbled backward, his adult thoughts dissolving as his mind regressed into pure, childlike glee. He started skipping around, pretending to throw an imaginary baseball.
"Wheee! This is so fun! Let’s play forever!" Mike shouted, his face glowing with innocence.
One by one, Jake turned to his remaining teammates, his grin growing wider as he fired the Goofball Gun at each of them. Some tried to reason with him, others begged him to stop, but it was no use. With each blast, the athletes were stripped of their grown-up minds, leaving only giggling, goofy little boys in their place.
"Catch me if you can!" one of the boys yelled, racing around the field in his oversized uniform, flapping his arms like a bird.
"When I grow up, I wanna be a motorcycle!" another shouted, rolling around in the grass, completely forgetting he had once been a professional baseball player.
Soon, the entire team was reduced to a group of silly, carefree kids, laughing and playing without a care in the world. Their powerful, athletic bodies were nothing more than the frames of 10-year-olds, and their minds were completely rewritten—no longer capable of adult thought, only consumed by the joy of being young and goofy.
Jake, now fully embracing his role as the lead goofball, pranced around the field, making funny faces and joining in on the games. The adult responsibilities, the pressure of being a captain, the memories of competition—all of it was gone, replaced by the pure fun of being a child again.
Dr. Clowngoggles watched from the sidelines, his rainbow goggles glinting with satisfaction. "Ah, what a sight to behold!" he mused, hands on his hips. "My very own team of goofballs! Isn’t this just perfect?"
Jake ran up to Dr. Clowngoggles, giggling uncontrollably. "Hey, Doc! Can I have another turn with the Goofball Gun? I wanna make even more silly friends!"
Dr. Clowngoggles chuckled, patting Jake on the head. "Oh, you’ve done more than enough, my boy. Now, why don’t you and your teammates go have some fun? There’s a whole world out there to play in!"
The boys cheered, scattering across the field in a flurry of childish energy. They were no longer the men they had once been. They were nothing more than a group of silly, goofy kids—forever.