You rummage through the tissue paper in the box, cringing as you pluck out what appears to be a well-used jock strap. You tentatively raise it to your nose and take a deep sniff. It smells safe enough and you are sufficiently desperate that, if the girl wants you to wear it, wear it you shall.
You walk down the hall to your bathroom and undress in front of the mirror. You put on the jock strap and cringe. It feels slightly damp inside. You search around your room for something suitable to wear with the jock strap when suddenly, you double over as a sledgehammer of fore pummels you in the chest. You drop to the gorund in front of your mirrored closet doors, groaning in pain. Then suddenly, your groan switches from the high-pitched voice of a "late-blooming" teenager to the deep tones of someone much past puberty. You gape at yourself in the mirror. Your previously clean shaven face, upon which you could only gorw a few scraggly blond hairs before, was sporting a full covering of day-old beard stubble. It was a dark brown, vidily clashing with the vibrant blond of your hair. Feeling as though you were being shocked with countless currents of electricity, you notice that your jaw is widening, becoming more prominent as the beard stubble thickens and darkens and you grow a prominent adams apple.
You stand up, lean on your desk, and promptly fall over again. The desk is much lower than before. You seemed to have sprouted at least 10 inches and are now at a height of about 6' 6". Marveling at your changed visage, you absentmindedly scratch at your abdomen. You glance down and are startled by your pecs. They are swelling and becoming more defined as thick, dark brown hair swirls around your nipples and down across your abs, which grow to a four pack, and then to a six pack. The hair thickens and spreads down your legs and your feet swell three sizes, popping and cracking. Your legs tauten and cramp, then suddenly bulge with muscles. You look at your arms and see them thickening as dark, thick hair begins to sprout on them. Your biceps grow to an enourmous size, perfect for hitting home runs. You raise your head and notice that your previously lank blond hair is shrinking into your head, turning into a dark brown crew cut, matching your beard stubble.
You appear to be about 18 years old. You appraise your new physique in the mirror. However shocking, the transformation might be, you could grow used to your new body. To top off the transformation, a uniform materializes around your body. The shirt, which displays the mascot of the high school baseball team, the Night Hawks, barely conceals your rippling pecs and biceps. Your hat is blue and gold, the team colors.
You turn around, admiring your gluts in the mirror and striking a bodybuilder pose when you start forgetting your past life. Your memories are replaced with new memories of your life as a jock. You are Jake Barlow and the star player on the varsity baseball team at Glendale High. You grab your bag of gear, which materialized on the doorknob to your bedroom, and hurry out of the house. Even if you are the star player, the coach will not cut you any slack for being late to practice, and you want to meet your girlfriend by the fountain in the park before heading over to the baseball diamond for practice....