The truth was sinking in to Hulk's mind. He stared at Kit with a blank expression, too many thoughts were crowding in to his head at once. How could he have agreed to this? How was he going to get out of this? What was Kit going to do? He reached a decision.
"Please! Don't make me in to a speedo. I don't wanna be something weird, I can't... please!" he felt his chest growing tight, his breathing becoming difficult, and his eyes began to sting.
"Dude. Don't cry." said Kit, standing up and looking down at Hulk sitting despondently on the sofa.
Hulk hadn't cried in years. He had forgotten what it felt like. He looked at Kit, their eyes met, and he began to sob pathetically, his shoulders shaking. "Please. I don't wanna be turned in to something." he blathered as he broke down in to full emotional wreckage.
"Look. It's ok. You agreed to this. I don't remember any of us agreeing to it, honestly, but we were drunk. Just relax."
Hulk seemed to visibly relax, his hands unclenched from the pillows he was nervously gripping. Kit smiled, it was already working, he could tell Hulk to do or be anything and he would.
His mind started to fill with ideas. So man nights ahead of him. What would he do first with his new Hulk? He looked him up and down appraising his new toy.