Somewhere far from where Tyler was held a man stared in awe at the story on his laptop. Short but sturdy in build, with short dark hair and glasses, the unnamed man smiled at the Justin Bieber tfs, the only thing he loved more than Justin Bieber was the thought of turning into Justin Bieber. As he read the story one of Justin’s songs played in the background, all was perfect. He contemplated writing more to the story, maybe a big twist where everyone gets turned into Justin Bieber, a world full of Justins, a paradise. A myriad of Bieber related ideas swarmed through his mind, oh all the ideas the man had. At that moment though a S.W.A.T. squad stormed his house. Before he could protest he was knocked down, bound and gagged and carried away. See, what he didn’t know was a law was recently passed in his county that made enjoyment of teen pop star related tfs illegal and he would now be the newest subject of the scientists. When they took off the blindfold the man gasped in horror and recognition, he was at one of the centers from the story he had just been reading. To see if first hand was a gruesome sight, the painfully clean and bland atmosphere, the soulless eyes of the employees contrasted with the fear, anger and confusion that filled the eyes of the inmates and the cells, the endless cells filled with criminals waiting to be tfed. As they roughly dragged him through the halls to his own cell he caught a glimpse of the control room. There, taking up more room than the first calculator was the abhorrent machine responsible for all, the lights flashing ominously as infinite data on the people of America flashed across the screens, intelligible only to the most learned and creative scientists in the world.
The man had one glimmer of hope though, what could these people possibly know about him? Maybe, just maybe he could trick them into thinking he hated Justin Bieber and they would unwittingly make his dream come true. Wrong, thanks for playing. The scientists were well aware of his fascination and had just the plan to break it. The scientists grinned broadly, even laughing at the ingenuous yet sinister plan they had in mind. A sharp prick in his back informed the man he was now among the chipped, his physical and mental structure at the mercy of the scientist’s cruel sense of humor. Without a word, save the usual warning to behave the man was thrown into his cell. He stared in disbelief at the walls; they were covered, every inch with posters of great rock and metal artists from today and yesterday. ACDC here, Guns n Roses there, even a looming poster of Behemoth staring him down. For unknown to him, this was his poison; he would turn into a great rock or metal singer every time he thought of Justin. And upon realizing his favorite pop star was not among the legends on his wall he thought of him, wished he was on the wall, wished his chip was set to him. And those thoughts triggered the infernal device.
The first thing he noticed was the sweltering heat wave coming over him. “Fuck, is this part of my punishment, they turn the air off?” He realized this must be the transformation, starting already. His sight became foggy, blurred, sweat poured forth from him as he became increasingly dizzy. His glasses slid off his wet face and he realized they were what was making his vision blurry, he no longer needed them. Had there been a mirror he would’ve noticed his eyes were also green and pupils were dilated as if he was blazed. And he sure felt like he was as the familiar feeling from childhood of being high swept over him but much stronger, whoever he was becoming really got some good shit he thought idly, his mind already changing.
“fuck… this…” was all he could manage between heavy breaths, his voice slightly higher, different sounding and his mind weaker, feeling the effects of heavy pot use. The parts of his brain responsible for writing and creativity doubled in size but his overall intelligence dripped down a good few numbers, becoming a calm, cool, laid back guy. He groaned in pain as he stretched slightly taller, becoming thin and lean. His gut withdrew to a flat stomach, his pecs diminished and his once sizable arms were now a little frailer; far, far from Justin’s twigs but equally far from a linebacker’s brute size. He was now, average, lean, maybe a runner at one point or just active. His feet grew causing his shoes to become painfully tight before they turned into casual, low cost sneakers a few sizes larger than what he was used to. His too short jeans became designer, ripped around the knees exposing his legs which were equally lean and not nearly as hairy as before, just a slight coating of blond. His shirt, it infuriated him, he screamed and cursed in a slight southern accent trying to get it off, he wanted to be free and finally it ripped off revealing a smooth, cute pecs, he was not thin but not very built. His flat abs were covered by only a slight blond trail. His skin became a bit tanner from long outdoor concerts without a shirt. The change worked its way up to his face, his hair became long and blond and large sunglasses covered his eyes making him feel much more comfortable. Physically he was now a few years older but he could easily pass for a teen with his young, charming face, long hair and barely a hair on his chin. He gave an awkward, sheepish grin against his will, feeling the effects of pot and ADHD in full, he wanted to dance, thrash sing, roar! Energy pumped through every vein, he tried to resist, tried to think of pop stars but loud, raging music was all he craved now, he needed to hear it and make it and perform it! For the next hour he was Matt Schultz of Cage the Elephant, and picking up the microphone nearby he wasted no time starting to sing In One Ear while the scientists nodded in satisfaction. Maybe this will end his cravings if not there are so many other great bands…
(There’s your twist =D)