"I wonder what they're doing back there," C.J. asked Mark while Danny and Mark sat over to the side, smoking cigars and watching them.
"I don't know, man, but I hope we find out soon. What do you think was wrong with Isiah, anyway?"
C.J. glanced over at their guards whose attention was focused on a football game showing on the television in the corner. C.J. thought about making a break for it, but decided not to. They'd just hear him. He did pull out the can of tobacco, though. "I think it has something to do with this. I found it this morning when [INSERT YOUR NAME HERE] dropped it, and Isiah tried it. Then he tried to pry it away from me."
Mark took the can from him and opened it. "It doesn't look like anything special. Just tobacco." Mark moved some of it around with his finger. "It must just be a coincidence." As he went to close the can, he scraped his finger and stuck it in his mouth to stop the bleeding. "Ew. And now I've tasted it. Some of it was stuck to my finger." He turned around to Danny and Mike. "Could one of you get me some water?"
C.J. grabbed the can from him and stuck it back in his pocket, thinking that it wasn't a good idea for Mark to have tasted the tobacco. Even though it looked normal, he had a funny feeling about it. As Mark drank the water Danny had gotten for him, C.J. continued to think.
*****
In the back room, Maxwell took charge. Monty and another bear were holding Isiah down as he writhed. Lester stood in the corner, lighting up another cigarette. As he exhaled, he said, "I done know wut he needs, Pappy."
Maxwell nodded. "So do I." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tin of tobacco, identical to the one C.J. was keeping hidden. "For tarnation's sake, I don't know what Cletus done with that can he give to [INSERT YOUR NAME HERE], but I'm mighty glad I got some more of 'em." He moved up to Isiah and said, "Here now, boy, this'll fix you right up."
He took a large pinch of the tobacco and fitted it into Isiah's mouth, causing the lower lip to bulge out in a huge mound. Isiah sighed and stopped trying to break loose from Monty. After a minute of working the tobacco, he sat up and spat on the ground. "Thank you kindly for the chaw, Pappy." He paused and grew white. "Now see here, that ain't a't'all what I done meant to say. Why in Sam's hill am I talkin' like this?"
As he spat again, he reached up to scratch his itching face and felt hair. Thick stubble. He glanced around, looking for a mirror. Finding an old one on the wall, he got off the table where he had been placed and sauntered over to it. He tried to walk normally, but a bow-legged gait was the best he could manage. It was as if his jeans had suddenly become much tighter. He also felt himself instinctively shift his posture backward, but couldn't figure out why until he looked down and saw a growing beer belly straining out from under his shirt. That explained the tight jeans.
Rubbing his expanding gut and feeling a lot more hair there than before, he continued over to the mirror. There he saw himself, but a different version. His hair had grown into a long mullet, and thick week-old stubble covered his cheeks. The hair around mouth and on his upper lip was still growing, though. After a moment, a thick horseshoe moustache appeared. He reached up to stroke it. Damn, he thought, I'm looking might fine.
After spitting some more tobacco juice on the floor--an action he was really getting used to--he turned back to Maxwell. "Y'all got any clothes I can git changed into? This here outfit don't seem to fit me none too good," he asked, gesturing toward the T-shirt and baggy jeans he had on.
Lester put out his cigarette. "Ah got a change of clothes here in the back. Bet they'd fit you plumb nice there, Isiah." He got them, and after changing, Isiah swaggered back over to the mirror, seeing himself with a camoflauge baseball cap on, a pair of tight jeans held up by a huge Confederate belt buckle and masking the huge rod he knew hid in his jeans, a dirty pair of hunting boots, and an unbuttoned flannel shirt with the sleeves ripped off, drawing attention to the swirls of hair on his chest and under his arms.
"Damn, Ah look might fine in this here git-up. Don't know why Ah was wearing them other clothes afore. Them don't suit me." He spat on the floor again and looked up at Maxwell, sheepish. "Pappy, you got summat Ah can spit in here? Ah don't mind letting 'em loose on most floors, but Ah wouldn't want to be messing up yours none." Maxwell handed him an empty water bottle and the can of tobacco. Isiah thought about pudding in some more, adding to the bulge of leaves in his mouth, but he paused. "Ah got a hankering for summat else, too." He turned to Monty. "Son, you got one of them stogies?" Monty smiled proudly, took the one he had been smoking, and handed it to Isiah. The new redneck smiled back, put it in his mouth, and drew in a cloud of smoke. As he exhaled, he rubbed his cock through his jeans. "Now all's I need is a beer and a good fuck." He chuckled. "Naw, make that seven or eight beers. Yeehaw!!"
As he yelled, C.J. burst into the back room, followed by Danny and Mike, who were carrying Mark, who was lashing around like Isiah had been a few minutes ago. "What's going on back here?" C.J. yelled. He turned to Isiah. "And who are you?"
Isiah let loose a stream of smoke and spat in his bottle. "C.J., it's me, your friend Isiah. Don't know why you ain't knowing me. It ain't been that long since you saw me. Ah was jus' out front there having a beer with my buds here."
C.J.'s eyes expanded. "Isiah? It can't be you." He started to walk closer, but was repelled by the stench coming from this hillbilly who claimed to be his friend. He covered his nose with his shirt and saw, "Whoever you are, you need a bath."
Isiah lifted one arm, letting the bush underneath expand. He sniffed and said, "Ah not that ripe, am Ah? Ah didn't figger I'd git a bath till next week or so." He finally caught sight of Mark and said, "Look here, wut's wrong with my buddy? Why's he twitchin' 'bout like a steer that ain't wanting to be broke?"
Maxwell gestured to Monty to block the door through which the group had entered. "Ah guess we'll be having some more changes today. Lester, you go git some more of your clothes. We's gunna need 'em."
"Aye, aye, Pappy!" As Monty moved aside to let Lester through, C.J. looked frantically around the room.
Maxwell approached him with a can of the tobacco, and said, "See here now, son, this ain't gunna hurt one bit."