That's when a voice, distinctly Carl's, shouted "Jake, could you kindly come here? I am in my room!".
Jake decided he would ask Carl about what had happened. But when he went into Carl's room that thought vanished completely.
This Carl was completely different from the Carl he knew. This Carl was clean shaven and had neat short hair. He was wearing neat
dress clothing. The room was different too. Nice, neat folded clothing in closed drawers replaced unfolded clothes in drawers that
couldn't even close before. The floor was visible, and the bed was made.
"Jake, have you seen my resume? I have a job interview at an office today." asked Carl, politely. Jake knew something was wrong in his
mind, because Carl never talked like that.
But instead of saying something about things being weird, Carl instinctively snapped "Why would I know, punk? Gotta learn to keep
better track of your shit."
"Jake, I am not a punk. You do not even know what the definition of a punk is. Now I will ask politely again, where is my resume?"
replied Carl, calmly.
Jake wanted to shout out, but he found he wasn't in control anymore. His new body was controlling his actions. "Look punk, I know what
a punk is, and you're a punk. And no, I don't have your damn resume. Why the fuck would I steal that from you, you stupid punk? You
know, for a little bro, you're a disrespectin' punk. Learn to stop bein' a punk."
Carl was getting mad, it was easy to tell. Angrily, he said...