As the Master led Lina off to the candy aisle, Geoffrey continued to walk down the aisle of bottles and jars. He rolled the cool vial in his hands slowly warming the odd greenish yellow liquid as he strolled. He turned the corner and began walking up an aisle filled with toys. He stopped, and pulled the gold stopper from the glass vial. The pungent smell rising from the vial reminded Geoffrey of wet sawdust. He bit his tongue between his lips steeling up his confidence. He wanted this, didn't he?
He took a deep breath, tilted back as his head and drained the vial into his open mouth. The ichor inside the vial was syrupy like maple syrup, but had a bitterer taster.
"Celery syrup," Geoffrey muttered smacking his lips and wondering if such a thing really existed. He breathed out, his chest tightened.
Everything seemed to be moving more slowly, even the light. He could almost see the individual photons, it seemed. His mouth felt very dry. He seemed to be shrinking or maybe the store was growing. Oddly enough his clothing was shrinking with him, and changing too.
Geoffrey had been wearing a plaid shirt over a black t-shirt and jeans. His shirt was becoming a jacket with big oversize buttons, and his t-shirt was becoming a button down shirt, and his jeans were changing from denim to the fabric that made up his new jacket. He looked down in confusion. His body as feeling stiff all over. He turned to pull himself up on the shelf ledge before he shrank any more. He felt weak and leaned his back against the back of the shelf. His body continued to shrink and change. He felt a tug on his cheeks pulling his mouth into an unnatural smile. For some reason he felt a sudden pang of sympathy for the Batman's comic book nemisis the Joker - cursed always to wear a grin on his face.
Geoffrey's muscles lost definition. He felt heavy, it was as if his torso, arms and legs were filled with sawdust. The sappy syrup had been finished. The empty vial sat on the shelf nearby. The residue of syrup was drying to Geoffrey's hardening tongue like a coat of paint. His mind seemed to be moving as slowly and as stiffly as his body. He tried hard to focus. He thought he heard Lina scream, but he was having trouble focusing. He stared straight a head at a collection of athletic equipment. On the opposite shelf were stacked various and sundry balls, bats, gloves, Frisbees, helmets and more. Geoffrey struggled to open his mouth, but his jaw kept springing shut with a loud wooden clap every time he managed to get it open. What was happening to him.
The transformation finally stopped. Geoffrey was about 30 inches long now as he leaned against the shelf wall with his legs stretched out ahead of him. He knew he was some sort of puppet, but couldn't quite think of what he was exactly. He couldn't quite remember how to move or speak, all he could do was sit there with unblinking eyes.
Footsteps approached. They periodically stopped as the Master surveyed the shelves. Finally, he stopped right in front of Geoffrey.
"Mwaahahhahah," laughed the Master as his warm hands gripped Geoffrey around the waist and lifted him off the shelf. The hand sliding under Geoffrey's jacket flap seemed to electrify Geoffrey. His mind began to work faster. He remembered how to speak,
"What the?" he started to ask, but the Master waved a finger at him and he fell silent. He had to obey, but he was beginning to question why he had to obey.