“How about this, my young friend?” the Mad Magician taunted. “I can give you back a bit of power, if you like.”
Blue Boxer’s face scrunched up in an expression equally parts suspicious and gosh-darned adorable, his youthful face unable to hide his inner thoughts as well as he could as an adult.
“You wouldn’t do that just to be nice,” the little hero snapped with a petulant pout. “What the heck do you want in exchange?”
The Mad Magician let out a big belly laugh, his tubby frame practically wobbling with glee at the adorable hero’s accusatory tone.
“Nothing in exchange at all. After all, I’ve already taken everything you have… what more could I take from you?” the Magician pointed out. “I’ll give you a few new powers, and we’ll see how you like them. Perhaps you could even use them to stop me someday, thought I hardly think that’s likely!”
Once again, all of the Blue Boxer’s thoughts were on display like an open book, his big boyish eyes widening with curiosity no matter how hard he tried to hide it. If the Magician could do this to him, he wondered what else the fat wizard might be able to do? And with an ego like his, wasn’t it possible that the Mad Magician might mess up and accidentally give the Blue Boxer the power he needed to defeat him?
“O-okay then…” the naive little hero began. “B-but if you try any funny business, I’ll—”
“Wonderful! Hold on tight, my little Blue Brat!” the Magician crowed happily, only to chuckle and tap his chin thoughtfully. “Blue Brat? Ah, I like that one! Let’s see how this suits you!”
With a flourish of his wand, the Mad Magician began to chant wildly, glowing energy whipping thought the air with each move of the wand.
“Snips and snails and a magical spell,
A bit of power to raise some hell,
A brat at heart is what I see,
and now he shall forever be!
Brattius maximus, flippius ethicus!
The little Blue Boxer was snatched up into the air, his oversized clothes flying off right away and leaving him scrambling to cover himself with his little hands.
“Ah! Y-you perv, gimme my clothes back!” he squeaked frantically as every inch of exposed skin turned bright red.
“Your wish is my command, Blue Brat!” the Magician laughed, giving his wand another flick. Immediately, the suspended boy began to spin around in the air, shouting in fear as he spun faster and faster until he was just a blur.
The blue outfit still left on the ground rose up, shimmering for a moment before tearing itself apart into ribbons. Each fragment of fabric was pulled piece by piece into the spinning tornado, and Blue Boxer felt them wrapping around him tightly, squeezing and massaging his little body into something… different.
When the cyclone finally slowed and the Blue Boxer was gently set down onto the ground again, he was shocked at what had been done.
He was still only barely 12, if that, but all remaining signs of adulthood had been wiped away by the Magician’s spell. His shaggy hair was trimmed into a cheap, spiky cut that stuck up in the back, dark freckles spotted his nose and cheeks, and his eyes were wide and twinkling with curiousity and… mischief?
His Blue Boxer costume was completely gone, replaced by a parody of boyish ‘fashion’. Blue shorts that barely reached his mid-thigh, with a wooden slingshot poking out of the pocket and the waistband of a boy’s briefs sticking out proudly a few inches from the shorts. A baggy hooded sweatshirt with the letters “BB” emblazoned on the front in a graffiti style. And perched atop his head was a little baseball cap, turned backwards of course.
The Blue Boxer frowned as he felt something waving behind him, thudding gently against the back of his bare thighs. He spun around and let out a high-pitched gasp when he saw a blue-skinned tail, long and hairless and ending with a spade tip, poking out from the back of his shorts. Upon his back, in black and blue, were a pair of little batlike wings, flapping nervously.
“L-like… devil wings? And a tail…?” the boy whispered, his eyes widening as he realized what had happened. His little hands rose up to his head, feeling a pair of slightly pointed little horns sticking out from his forehead, poking through torn holes in his cap. “What the hell did you do!?”
“Ooh, what a lovely choice of works, my little Blue Brat,” the Mad Magician chuckled. “I decided this town has one too many heroes for it’s own good. A little bit of devilish magic was needed to balance things out…”
Blue Brat, Blue Brat. Every time the Magician said those words, the boy (No, the ‘Blue Boxer’, he told himself) felt something tugged deep within him. Images of himself running through the streets of Grit City, spray-painting the walls, tossing down stink-bombs into crowded subway trains, or stealing candy from the local shops. Being a true, incorrigible brat in every sense of the word.
He shook his head frantically, trying to dispel those images with ever bit of willpower he had remaining. But the Magician could already see that the seed had been planted, and the ‘power’ he’d returned to the Blue Brat would only grow harder and harder to resist.
With a flick of his wrist, the Mad Magician conjured up a small, colorful backpack, perfect for the new little devil of a brat. “Go on, my dear Blue Brat,” the Magician said with a smile. “It’s all yours to do whatever you like with. Each piece is imbued with a bit more of my ‘power’. The more you use them, the more power you’ll regain.”
The Blue Br-… No, Boxer! The Blue Boxer stalked forward, snatching up the backpack and peering within. He felt a shiver, seeing the backpack packed with everything he’d dreamed of. Cans of spray paint that faintly glowed with magic, little cartons of stink bombs (‘Supernaturally Stinky!’ the package proclaimed), and any number of other little devices a brat could only dream of…
The youthful ‘hero’ narrowed his eyes at the Magician, wondering just what the hell the fat weirdo was trying to pull here...