Returning home, your room mate finds you missing, and an odd device sitting on the window sill. He walks over and glances out the window.
"What the hell happened to Tommy Conner's house? It looks like nobody's lived there in years, and who's that fat hairy slob sleeping on the porch?" he asks. Looking down at the device he mutters, "Slobbifier?" Then he glances back out the window. He adjusts the controls and aims and fires at the house.
You legs feel odd, you look down to see the denim jeans becoming crisp beige khaki slacks. Your tennis shoes are now brown leather Dockers. Your t-shirt tightens up and tucks in. You're wearing a polo shirt now. You turn to check yourself out in the neat organized house's wall mirror. You run your fingers over your face. You hadn't shaved in a week - trying to grow a decent beard. But now your face is smooth shaven except for a neat soul patch under your lips. You also appear to have been freshly showered, even though the last time you showered was last night at the gym.
You hear the door open and turn around. Through the bay window you can see that the front yard is still a mess, only the house has changed. Fat hairy Tommy stands shirtless in the doorway glaring at his now spotless house. His glare locks on you.
"Get me a beer and something to eat. I'm going to watch TV," he snaps at you and then lies sideways across the sofa with the remote in his hand.
You feel compelled to obey.
You return from the kitchen wearing an apron, and carrying a tray with a frosted glass, a bottle of beer, and divided bowl with chips, dip, and vegetables. You hand Tommy a napkin as you offer him the tray. He blows his nose in the napkin, crumples it and tosses it on the floor. He takes the bottle ingnores the glass, and grabs the bowl spilling chips and veggies on the floor. The TV blares loudly in the background. You stoop to clean up the carpet of the napkin, chips and veggies.
"You like cleaning and taking care of me?" Tommy asks.
You answer truthfully to your own surprise, "Yes, sir, very much."
"Well, then you're going to have to earn the right to clean for me," Tommy said.
You are confused. Why would you need to earn the right? Most folks would welcome it. Why did he feeled compelled to keep Tommy's house neat and tidy. He continues to pick up the floor but looks directly at Tommy for an explanation.
"I think you need a uniform if you're going to clean my house," Tommy said thougtfully rubbing his beard.
His hand dropped to his trousers and disappared inside them. He continued, "Yeah, I think hot pink leather. After you make and serve me dinner tonight, we'll go to a special store and get you properly kitted out. How does that sound to you?"
"Uh, it sounds pretty good, sir. I'll get started making dinner immediately," you stay standing and spinning with the debris closed in your fists. Your apron flutters as you spin, and you march toward the kitchen. You feel Tommy's snot oozing through your fingers and regret squeezing the napkin so tightly.