Francisco Mendes was lost in a feeling of utter pleasure. Before him both Ric and Josh stood, a look of amazement spreading across their youthful faces. Clutched in Ric's hand was a book that he'd just read some type of gibberish from. "What's up boys," Mr. Mendes tried to ask, but no words came out.
He tried to clear his throat and raising what he thought was his hand and arm to cover his mouth, Mr. Mendes stared in wonder as his appendage had just turned clear and then started to disappear.
Scared, he tried to confront Ric and Josh, but all he could do was stare as the room disappeared around him. Afterward there was only whiteness and Francisco wondered briefly if he was dead and then colours began to form around him and suddenly he could feel and what he felt was someone holding him.
"Interesting," he tried to say except his mouth refused to move. Suddenly the world shifted violently and Mr. Mendes realized that he was being carried.
A large form appeared over him and he saw that it was a very young girl and before he could try to do anything, she removed his clothes, which didn't look like the clothes he'd put on earlier, and started to dress him. Noise, possibly someone calling and the young girl - "She can't be any older then six," Francisco thought - screamed, "Be right down mother."
The world shifted again and he found his legs being manipulated by the girl and above him he heard her say, "We'll continue our tea party later, Angelina. I have to go to school." A wetness on his cheek, her kissing him, and the girl was gone.
The moment the door closed, Mr. Mendes found that he could move and the longer the girl was gone, the more the sense of being real returned. Standing, he figured that his height was about ten inches now. Looking down, he gasped in surprise to see that he's dressed in doll clothes now; a pink tank top with butterflies and flowers stitched upon the front, a pair of denim pants with a button sewn in place and sewn to his feet and legs were a pair of ballet slippers.
As he watched, the clothes became less and less doll clothes and more and more real clothes that a person would wear. Seeing a doll house mirror, he walks toward it and looks in. Gazing back is a mouse girl and Mr. Mendes suddenly remembers what the girl called him, Angelina. "My god, somehow I've been turned into an Angelina Ballerina plush." he thinks, wondering how he knows this information.
Undoing the now very real button on his denim pants, Mr. Mendes pushes them down and stares for a minute at the blue panties, hesitant. It passes and before he can talk himself out of doing what he's thinking of doing, he sticks his now white, furred covered hand down his underwear.
At first he feels nothing but fabric sewn together and then it to begins to change. Scared, Mr. Mendes pulls his hand back and instead pulls his panties down. Before his eyes, he watches as the fabric turns real and becomes an actual female genitalia covered in white fur. "What the hell is going on here," he wonders. Before he can do anything, the door opens and Mr. Mendes automatically flops down upon the floor, the odd transformation completely reversed.
A woman's voice can be heard, "Dammit, Julie! I thought I told you to pick up your room."
Noises and after a few moments Mr. Mendes feels himself being picked up. His clothes straighted and put back on him and then he's set in a rather large doll house along with two Barbie dolls.
The woman continues what she's doing and then she's gone. The moment she leaves, Francisco finds that he can move again. "So I'm inanimate only when people are around," he reasons out. He notes that none of the dolls have come to life, only him, figures it has something to do with whatever just happened to him and starts to leave the doll house.
What keeps him inside is two things. The first being the fact that he is having an effect on the place; the longer he stays in it, the more things, not counting the dolls, become real like him. The other is that when he looks around, he finds the house has grown larger and opening a door, he finds a library. A closer inspection, Mr. Mendes, who refuses to think of himself as Angelina Ballerina, finds of all things the book Ric was reading from. The bad news is that it is all gibberish and what is written in English doesn't make any sense.
"Now what am I suppose to do," Mr. Mendes asks out loud, surprised on how high and feminine his voice sounds.