Carl, still trapped in Marco’s thick, bearish body, groaned as he pulled a sweatshirt over his new bulk. The hoodie stretched awkwardly over his belly, a far cry from the tech-savvy, fit figure he was used to. Beside him, Alex—now in his dad’s broader, hairier form—was fidgeting with his father’s old leather jacket, which felt stiffer and more constricting than the athletic gear he normally wore.
“We’re really going after him like this, huh?” Alex asked, adjusting the jacket’s sleeves and grimacing at how foreign everything felt.
“Yeah,” Carl replied in Marco’s deep voice, running a hand through the thick beard that now covered his face. “We don’t have a choice. If my dad keeps swapping people’s bodies, this whole town’s gonna turn into a freak show.”
Alex nodded, though he was still getting used to his gruffer, older voice. “True. But how do we even fight him? I feel like I’ve aged twenty years just walking to the car. And this jacket smells like… I don’t know, engine oil and cologne.”
Carl chuckled, a gruff, booming sound. “Welcome to Dad Life. Now imagine trying to run after bad guys in this body.” He tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants, which were already slipping slightly. “We’ve gotta get that remote back before he switches anyone else.”
The two of them hopped into Carl’s dad’s old pickup truck, its engine roaring to life with a heavy, guttural sound that matched the deep, unfamiliar voices they now had. As Carl struggled to adjust the seat to fit his dad’s larger frame, Alex glanced at him, a worried expression crossing his newly bearded face.
“You think we’ll be able to convince him?” Alex asked. “I mean, he’s your dad, but this is… it’s not like him. What if he doesn’t want to give the remote back?”
Carl gripped the steering wheel tightly, his large, calloused hands dwarfing it. “That’s the problem. He likes being me. He’s been complaining about getting older for years. Now that he’s a teenager again, I don’t think he’s planning to give it up willingly.”
Alex sighed. “Great. So we have to fight our own dads, and we’re stuck in their bodies.”
Carl revved the engine and peeled out of the gym parking lot, heading toward the one place he thought his dad might go: the neighborhood park, where they often played pick-up games of basketball. It was a place where his dad used to feel young, back before all this madness. Now, Marco had that youth back for real—and he was using it to wreak havoc.
The sun was setting by the time they arrived at the park, casting long shadows across the empty basketball courts. As they stepped out of the truck, both Carl and Alex could feel the weight of their new bodies pulling at them. Their movements were slower, more deliberate. Even Carl’s dad’s heavy boots felt strange on his feet, clunking with each step.
“There he is,” Carl muttered, nodding toward the far end of the court where Marco—still in Carl’s young, athletic body—was dribbling a basketball, showing off for a small crowd of teenage boys who had gathered around him. Marco was laughing, clearly enjoying the attention as he spun the ball on his fingertip.
“We need to be careful,” Alex said, eyeing the glowing remote in Marco’s hand. “If he sees us coming, he might try to swap us again—or worse, switch us with someone random.”
“Let’s hope he’s too distracted to notice,” Carl replied.
They approached slowly, trying not to draw attention. But Marco, still reveling in the energy of his newfound youth, spotted them almost immediately.
“Well, well, well,” Marco called out, his voice still Carl’s but dripping with confidence. “If it isn’t the old men! How’s it feel to be a couple of old farts?” He grinned, bouncing the basketball with one hand while holding the remote tightly in the other.
“Dad, this has to stop,” Carl said, his voice strained. “You’re messing with people’s lives. You can’t keep doing this.”
Marco shrugged, dribbling lazily. “Why not? It’s not hurting anyone. In fact, I’m improving people’s lives. You don’t see Alex complaining, do you?” He gestured to Alex, who was shifting uncomfortably in his dad’s body.
“I don’t want to stay like this,” Alex said, stepping forward. “We’re not supposed to live other people’s lives.”
Marco rolled his eyes. “You’ll get over it. You have no idea how great it feels to be young again. No back pain, no joint stiffness. I’ve got all the energy I used to have. You’re telling me you wouldn’t want this too?”
Carl clenched his fists. “That’s not the point, Dad. You’re working for Lord Skullface, and whatever he’s promised you, it’s not worth it. He’s using you!”
The mention of Skullface made Marco’s grin falter for a split second, but he quickly recovered, bouncing the ball with renewed intensity. “He’s giving me the chance to stay like this forever, Carl. And all I have to do is help him… shift a few things around.”
“And you’re okay with that? Messing up other people’s lives, just to keep yourself young?” Carl took a step forward, his large, bearish frame towering over the younger, more athletic Marco. “That’s not the dad I know.”
Marco’s eyes flicked to the remote in his hand, then back to Carl. For a moment, there was hesitation—a flicker of doubt. But then his grip tightened around the device, and his expression hardened.
“I’m not going back to that old body,” Marco said, his voice low and resolute. “Not ever. Besides son, I think you like it. I heard you enjoying it in the shower the other day.”
Alex glanced at Carl, then back at Marco. Carl burned with embarrassment. “Dad, don’t do this. We can figure something out.”
Marco shook his head, backing away slightly. “Not a chance, big man.”
Before they could react, Marco raised the remote, his finger hovering over the button. “I’m sorry, Carl. But I have to do this....”