Scott woke up, slowly, and felt his body ache all over. The flight across the pond had been long, but never before had he felt so sore after one. Everything felt so heavy and sluggish, as Scott slowly moved over and out of the bed. His feet slapped against the floor in an uncharacteristically loud thump. Footsteps started up the hall, and the whiff of pipe tobacco came from the door (his nose told him it was Borken Riff tobacco). "Doug?" Scott said, as he looked around, his eyes still shut with sleep. Scott's voice felt odd, sort of deeper and more rough.
Doug stood in the doorway, looking at his friend. "Hi, Scott" Doug said, but stopped as his friend lumbered about the room. Doug's pipe hung in his mouth and had gone out, though Doug didn't notice. Before Scott had woken up, Doug had been looking around the house, seeing how the program had altered more than just Scott's physical body. Photos Scott had sent over the Internet were changed. One specifically of Scott in Rome, next to Hadrian's Arch had been significantly different. In the former one, Scott had been standing, dressed in nice, preppy clothes, smiling into the camera. In the latter, Scott had stood, smoking a thick cigar, smirking, as though he had just thought of a nasty joke. The attitude in both pictures had shifted completely. Doug was looking forward to see how Scott would be.
Scott stood up, his body feeling very off balance. He kept rubbing his eyes, willing the sleep to go away. His nose told him that Doug was there, from the pipe tobacco, but never before had his nose been so confident in telling him what type of tobacco Doug was smoking. Furthermore, it felt odd to Scott that he was starting to lick his lips and salivate at the smell. Scott shook his head, and he felt something swish against his shoulders. Finally, Scott opened his eyes to look around.
Everything felt off. Scott looked over his room, and he swore everything was shorter, smaller. Scott turned to the mirror, and he gasped. His body was not there. Standing there was a new man. A thick beer gut, a perfect hemisphere, hung from the stomach. The rest of the man looked bloated with muscle. Arms over 20 inches stretched out a too small T-shirt, while legs that were bigger than a normal man's waist stood underneath. Hair stuck out from over the man's collar and from out under the sleeves and hem. Long hair was tied back in a thick pony tail, but the hairline look further back than Scott thought a hairline should be. On the face of the man, a thick stubble goatee had grown. The mustache was already larger and hung over the top lip, but something in Scott said that they had both started off clean shaved. His mind was in a tizzy, as he moved to and fro, watching the man in the mirror. Scott raised his arm, and the man's arm raised in the mirror. "What the.." Scott started, as his gut started to rumble.
Scott reached out, as he looked down, and his large hands rubbed the swollen stomach. It was a gut like Scott had always wanted, but boy, it was much heavier than he imagined. He could feel the hair that covered the flesh under the shirt. Scott looked back up, and then, his eyes found Doug. "What happened?" Scott asked, as Doug stepped up. Scott saw that his eyes now rested above his friend's shaved head. "Doug, you're short!" Scott exclaimed, as his heart started beating wildly. Scott's hands started to fidget, while sweat started leaking out from the exposed brow.
"Calm down, mate, it's all right." Doug said, calmly. "You just need a smoke." Doug reached over to a humidor by Scott's bed and brought out a nice Churchill cigar, 8.5 inches long and just over an inch thick. "Here, mate, here it is" Doug said, clipping the end of the cigar and handing it up to Scott.
Scott's hands took it, while Scott looked shocked. "I don't smoke" Scott said weekly. His hands knew differently, as they shoved the cigar in Scott's open mouth. Doug smiled as he lit the cigar with a nearby torch lighter. Scott started inhaling, breathing the cigar to life. Flames licked the end of the cigar, growing brighter and brighter, as the cigar began to pour out its thick perfumed smoke. Scott leaned back up, breathing the cigar in deeply. A thick nose jet blew out from him, as his eyes caught sight of the bear in the mirror smoking a nice thick cigar. "How the...What the??" Scott started, but Doug shooed him into smoking the cigar. Scott's fidgeting quieted down, as Scott inhaled the perfumed smoke. "How's this possible?" Scott asked.
"Well, that's a long story." Doug said, his smile never wavering. Doug re-tamped his pipe and lit it up, adding to the hefty smoke that hung around the room. Doug's eyes were wide as he watched Scott smoke the heavy cigar like a pro, drawing deeply and pumping out huge jets of smoke. Doug breathed in and was about to start in on the program when the doorbell rang.