Back in your room, you pick up your boxers and try to put them on, but a sudden feeling of wrongness wells up inside you. Your head spins a little, and you drop your boxers.
You do a double take, and try the shirt. Same thing. "Bad..." you hear echo in your head.
"What's going on?" You say aloud. "Why can't I put on my clothes?"
Determined, you sit on your bed and pick up a sock. Fully intending to put it on your foot, you bring it to your foot, but then double over and fall off the bed. "BAD... Bad dog!" You hear in your head.
You get up onto all fours. "That's not right!" You stand up and go outside to the living room where Jack is.
"Jack - something's wrong with me. Could you call the hospital?" You remember the last time you tried to get to the phone.
Jack looks back at you and blinks. "Why? What's wrong?"
"I ... can't put my clothes on." You say.
Jack smiles. "Hah. You don't have any clothes."
"I know. That's the problem. My clothes are in my room, but whenever I try to put them on, I get dizzy and... feel bad."
Jack gets up and goes over to your room. "What the?" He says.
"What is it?" you ask.
"Where'd all these clothes come from?" He says, irritated. He starts picking them up.
"They're - they're MY clothes, Jack." You point out.
"No they're not. You don't HAVE any clothes."
"What are you talking about? Of course I have clothes! Those are mine! What are you doing with them?"
"Going to donate these. Salvation army, probably."
"You can't do that! They're mine!"
"Quiet, now." Jack says to you.
" *---!" You try to talk, but can't. "*!" your mouth moves but no sound comes out, and you hear "Bad dog!" in your head.
Jack hauls the clothes out of your room and you follow him up to the door. He closes it so that it's clear he doesn't want you to get out.
And then you're alone, naked, in the apartment.
You fiddle with your fingers for a few seconds, not wanting to go out in public naked. Finally, you decide it's too late and Jack's probably in his car anyway and down the road. With your clothes.
You slap your head. And your wallet! Your wallet was in your jeans! You rush back into your room, looking for it. As you look you catch a look of yourself in the mirror.
Your hair is changed. It's now mostly gray, and long. You'd almost call it...
Shaggy.