Reaching behind the couch, you pick up the phone, you hear a lot of noise on the other end and then a voice hollers into the phone, "Hello? Hello? A.J.? You there?"
Standing, moving away from the telly and into the kitchen you reply, "Ya, watch you need Sam?"
Listening to the loud noises in the background and from what Sam is telling you, you grasp that he or somebody is throwing a party and Sam wants to invite you over. Grinning because you were looking for something do, you tell him you'll be there within a half hour.
Making sure the apartment was locked, you have no roommates and you don't really know the neighbors well enough, you take the stairs down to the ground floor and just as you are about to decide to take your car, you figure you'll walk; after all, Sam, who has been your best friend since grade school and struck it rich playing the stock market, lives only two blocks over.
When you finally reach Sam's place, you’re ready to curse the stupid choice of walking. Knowing Sam, you let yourself into his three story house. Still awed by Sam's luck, you're a struggling writer who has managed to write at least two books, you are drawn out of your reverie as a beautiful redhead hands you a drink.
Looking down at the bottle you were just handed, you see one of the drinks advertised on the telly; this one's called Calypso.
Looking up, you notice the redhead is gone. Looking back at the bottle, as you make your way through the party guests, you notice that it has no alcohol in it and has lines on it that read one ounce, two ounce, three ounce and so on all the way up to ten ounces.
Shrugging, you take a sip, notice the sweet strawberry taste and go to look for Sam.
It turns out that the party is being held in honour of the drink you're sipping. Sam had once again played the stock market and made billions off of the drink. The chances of him ever becoming poor again had just vanished in a good tip.
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By three o'clock in the morning, the party was still going strong. Having managed to drink about five ounces of the Calypso, you also sample other drinks throughout the evening. Sam has also helped himself to a drink that you can never quite catch the name of, but at one point you do notice it has something called vixen kit berries in it.
Flagging Sam down, you notice that he has only drunk about four ounces of his drink, you say to him, "Congratulations, but I think I'm going to take off. It's been fun."
Nodding, Sam says to drop by tomorrow, he's got a friend for you to meet. Seeing Sam disappear back into the group of people, you wonder who it is. On the way out, you pass Sam's girlfriend, who looks royally smashed. As you see her, you're suddenly reminded of the cute red head and wonder who she was. You didn't see her at all after she had served you the drink and thinking that maybe she was who Sam wanted to introduce you to, you exit the house.
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Back at your apartment, you look at the drink and figuring you'll finish drinking it later, you place the last five ounces into the fridge. Stripping down, you realize that you’re too tired to get any form of pajamas on and you’re fast asleep before your naked form can hit the bed.
You are awoken by the call of nature. Feeling a pressure on your bladder, you roll over onto your stomach and slide off the bed. Stumbling to the bathroom, with out really thinking about it, you reach up and pull on the zipper to your pajamas. Unzipping them, you step out of them and pulling your underwear down around your ankles, struggle up onto the toilet.
Spreading your legs a bit, you release your bladder. Still sleepy, not fully awake, you complete your business. As you pull up your underwear and step back into your footy pajamas, zip them up, climb onto the sink to wash your hands, you gasp and nearly fall off at what you see what's reflected back from the mirror.
Looking back at you is a pale, redhead five year old with bluish grey eyes. Reaching over to dry your hands, you're suddenly awake as you realize that the person staring back is actually you. Running your hands through your hair, you wonder what the hell is going on here. "I don't have red hair," you mutter. "I have short brown hair, with a hint of blond peppered here and there. And, are those piercing holes in my ears?"
But before your attention can be to drawn to the tiny holes in your ears, you're bothered slightly by how small your hands have become.
Looking at the face in the mirror, realizing that you only look pudgy because of some baby fat, you slide off the sink and look down, finally realizing what you’re wearing.
It's a purple footed pajama sleeper with a blue and pink butterflies printed in various locations. It looks like it might be skin tight, but you know that there is enough room in it for you to shift about. The only real tight part is what's pressed up against your crotch. Afraid of what you'll find, but knowing what's there, you undo the zipper a second time.
Pulling the pajamas off, you look down. You figure that your height must be about three foot five, which would explain why everything is so big. Looking at your panties, you see a picture of Hello Kitty printed on the smooth flat surface. Pulling them forward, you gasp as you can no longer see your penis and testicles. Letting the underwear snap back into place, shocked at how weird it felt to have the soft fabric slap against smooth flat skin. Picking up your jammies, you look around the bathroom. Seeing that everything in here is still the same, you put back on your pajamas and exit out into the hallway.
Looking about your apartment, you see that nothing has changed at all. It is still a one bedroom apartment, will no sign of a woman's touch. In the bedroom, you become frustrated as you only find your old clothes. Slamming the dresser drawer, you figure that there might be an answer on the bottle of Calypso.
Opening the fridge, you’re stunned when you can’t find the fruit drink you were sampling last night. Slamming the door, you wonder what to do. In the end, you come up with three ides; play dollies, which you don't have any. Watch cartoons, but don't know anything that would be on. And option three was to either call or walk over to Sam's place, hoping that he had some answers.
In the end you decide to walk over to your best friend's house. Having some difficultly reading the clock, you figure it must be about one in the afternoon. More problems arise when you first try to open the front door and when you finally manage to get it open, the next problem is attempting to lock it after it's closed.
When you finally manage to leave, you sneak out of the apartment complex. Feeling inconspicuous, seeing as you look like a five year old girl, are dressed like a five year old girl in her favourite pajamas and are starting to think like a five year old, you stick to alleyways as you walk two blocks over. When you finally do get to your friend's house, you duck in the back way.
The party may be over, but there is still people here; luckily their still asleep. Sneaking up to Sam's room, you open the door and stop at what you see. Sleeping in your best friend's bed is.......