Billy chose the executive. Instantly he was transported to the top of a building in Seattle, WA. A highly built, good looking black haired caucasian man with a good tan was shuffling papers into his suitcase.
Billy, being in his ten year old form, startled the man, who jumped back.
"How did you get in here? Are you here with one of the guys in the firm? If you're LOST, I can call a security official..."
"Im not lost, Mr. Duvall. I'm here because you have a debt to pay. For your insolence and ill will towards your fellow man I am here to vanquish your silly arrogance." Billy waved his ten year old hands, and looking quite frightening in the glum light of the overcast day, shadows emerged from him and surrounded Mr. Dirk Duvall.
He felt himself lose his grip and fall backwards. When he awoke, he was on the floor, fumbling around, but had difficulty. Something was preventing him from getting up. Getting reorientated he realized that it was because the clothes he was now in were massive! Fit for a giant, really. If this was someone's idea of a joke, it was a poor one.
He reached for the buzzer and told his secretary on the intercom: "Gladys, could you please come in....here???"
His voice was as high as a girl's! He felt his face and it was as smooth as a pear. He looked up in horror to realize that his desk was just as looming as the chair, and the lamps, and the briefcase seemed a thing too large for him to even carry with his vigorous, confident steps.
"Oh, no." he said. "I'm dreaming. That's what's happening...this is a nightmare..."
"Hardly, jr," said Billy, looming up above him in his now adult form. "I scrambled the message to your secretary. She never received it, so you don't have to be all embarrassed when the "big" adults come in and find you here..."
"Who are you?"
"I am a representative of a powerful establishment. Now it's time we go home...to your home that is...some modifications have to be made now. Starting with your son, Tristan. Now that you've been DOWNsized, ha ha, if you'll pardon the pun, ha ha, someone will have to take over the family business. We feel the young tyke will be far better at giving guidance than being in need of it..."
Billy finished his speech and grabbed Dirk by the hand, and pulled him away from his desk to the center of the room.
"Here, put these on, sport. They'll fit you better."
Dirk was frantic. His eyes were red and he was at a loss.
"What are you doing to me?! It's all in my mind!" the child shrieked.
"Oh I think you'll find that we are very much real. Here," he said handing the young tyke some clothes with cartoon characters on them and some jeans his size. "Now, you'll have a lot of adjustments to make, so why not make them, the right, smart way? Be a good businessman and learn from your surroundings. Take it all in before you react."
"You're some evil force!"
"We are doing this out of compassion! You have fouled your life, and we have given you a clean break...let's just hope Tristan doesn't have your attitude!"
"My son! What have you done to him?" the child said, his words seeming to make no sense.
"Nothing...yet. You should be there for the situation to develop. We'll meet up with him at your apartment and take things from there. Luckily there's no mother in the picture; that makes things less complicated." Billy rubbed his goatee for effect, and stretched a massive bicep. He looked very Kurt Russell-ish...his mannish locks curled and brown and his wonderfully copperybrown beard shimmering with its short duration of hair.
"Now that you're dressed, let's go. It's your party, after all." Billy said, and snapped his fingers.
Dirk had forgotten...this was his thirty seventh birthday today! He had a party all planned...this was horrible! What was going to happen? Would all his friends now see him like this, diminuitive and helpless against this magical manifestation, (or more like gorgeous hunk, he thought)
Wait! He wasn't attracted to men! No matter how huge and sweaty and lovely their biceps were...all glisteny and bronzed like a god...WHAT THE???
He was so confused. He was now standing at home, in the hallway.
"Son??" he said, in his ten year old voice.