"Be my Poindexter & experiment on me," he read on the back of the
note.
"Kinkee alright, she wants to play rocket scientist or maybe mad
doctor? Well, I'm game - just as long as she doesn't want me to wear
mesh stockings like Frank N. Furter in Rocky Horror Picture Show. Oh,
heck I'd wear those too, she's so damn hot," Chad said to himself as
he checked his watch.
Just inside the fieldhouse door, Chad stripped and did a quick change.
He muttered as he struggled with the lab coat that "It's too small."
He was sure it would rip but at last he got the button buttoned, and
tied the belt in place. It seemed to be fitting better, loosening up
as he walked. He adjusted the bow tie and put the black horn rim
glasses on. Then he advanced toward the fieldhouse room where he
expected to find Sinclair.
As he walked he noticed his shoes felt heavier, and that the hem of
the lab coat which had been hitting his upper thigh was now touching
his knees. The sleeves that had been up to his elbows were now down to
his wrists. He stumbled right out of his size 12 shoe. He stopped and
stared. It was his foot, but it was now clearly a size seven.
"What the hell?" Chad asked aloud as he ripped the lab coat open to
see that more than his feet had shrunk. He listened to his voice. It
had changed too. It was two octaves higher, nasal and whiny sounding.
"NO!"
"Yes, Chad, welcome to the Chess Club. You have just been nerded
out!" laughed a familiar voice.