Jeff saw an option called Scally. Having grown up in the American suburbs he was unfamiliar with the term and clicked on the option hoping for more information.
"Transformation sequence commencing... 2.00... 1.59... 1.58"
"Shit shit shit!" Jeff shouted, realizing his mistake. His eyes desperately searched the screen for the details of his transformation
Transformation Selected: Scally
Transformation Length: 2 Weeks
Alter Clothing: Yes 100%
Alter Appearance: Yes 100%
Alter Personality: Yes 100%
Alter Intelligence Yes 100%
Alter Environment: Yes 100%
Alter Memories: Yes 75%
Alter Reality: Yes 100%
"Fuck me... two weeks and I don’t even know what I'm becoming!"
Jeff's attention was drawn down to his slightly baggy blue Volcom jeans which had begun to darken significantly. In a matter of seconds they settled on a uniform jet black. The material started to become thinner as the crotch and most of the pockets began to seal themselves up and a zipper appeared at the bottom of each leg. His web belt disappeared and his belt loops pulled into the waist of his formed jeans just before the waist itself became elastic. Jeff stared bewildered watching his jeans become a pair of black polyester trackies. 3 raised red stripes raced down the length of each pant leg and the Adidas logo appeared on the left thigh.
Distracted by his changing pants Jeff hadn't noticed that his hoody had lost its hood or that the white t-shirt he wore underneath had begun to alter itself dramatically. It wasn't until some unseen force attached the two sides of his open hoody and began to zip up the front that he shifted his attention upward. He noticed some kind of logo across his chest and an unfamiliar patch across his left peck, but before Jeff could inspect either his zipper completed its journey upward. Still, he could feel the fabric against his skin as it suddenly began to feel smoother... lighter...
"A jersey?" He wondered, but his attention was drawn quickly to his former hoody which was already the same color and material as his new trackies. The neckline had begun to pull in closer and raise up higher around his neck. Grey piping appeared down the front of his new jacket and 3 red stripes ran from his neck down to his wrists. The Adidas logo appeared again, this time across the left breast of his new track jacket.
Jeff noticed his feet had become uncomfortable. His shoes were becoming tight. He realized that the Chronivac had begun to alter his body while he’d been preoccupied with his clothes. His feet felt like they were about to burst free from his worn skaties but just as the fabric started to give the shoes themselves began to increase in size. Suede became mesh and pleather as his flat laces became round. The soles groaned as the heels popped out into 6 round pads and a big swoosh appeared on both sides of the rapidly changing footwear completing his extra fresh black and silver Nike Shox. Jeff pulled back the tongue and read size 14. He’d used to joke about shoes this being like small boats. Now he found a pair on his own feet fitting them perfectly.
Suddenly his ankle socks pulled upwards stretching to crew length moments before swallowing up the bottoms of his new trackies. He reached to pull his pants free from the socks, but stopped himself… something felt strangely… right… about wearing them like this.
As Jeff looked up he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked well… better… than he remember. His formerly non-existent pecs seemed to be filling out the jacket nicely. He could have sworn he even looked a couple inches taller. His face started to display a very un-Jeff-like grin. He was becoming more and more enamored with his own appearance. A smugness was creeping into his brain, and that’s when it hit him… The mental changes!
1.00… 0.59… 0.58…
“Fuuuuuuck!...” Jeff screamed in a deepening voice. It felt like someone had just put a knife through his skull. “Fuck’in eh’ mate! What da’ fucks going on!?” Even his voice had changed. It sounded rougher, deeper, and it had a definite edge to it… not to mention a British accent. His IQ started to drop like a brick. Jeff’s IQ had started around 130 but by the time the Chronivac’s timer hit 40 it had fallen 95. His head felt heavy… it was so hard to think… so much easier just… not to. The mirror in front of him displayed harsh eyes which betrayed no intelligence.
“Ah yea mate… look’in so fuck’in hard.”
The old Jeff screamed internally at the sound of his voice and at his own words. He felt a pulling sensation as his hair retracted into his skull leaving a fresh buzz on the sides. The hair on the top was almost as short with a little extra length in the front. Gell sparkled through and pushed the remaining hair forward into a harsh fringe. As Jeff had been staring at himself in the mirror the changes to his personality and memories had accelerated finally beginning to corrupt his internal voice. His thoughts were changing. Jeff fought desperately to hold on to the old him… but… what was… the “old” him? He had some vague recollection of being… different, but… this just seemed so… right!
The new Jeff looked up once again and was greeted by his new visage. He grabbed his fat 9 incher through is trackies and said to himself in the mirror, “Ya mate! One good look’in mother fuck’in scal right chere!”
Jeff realized he had to meet his buds for some footie and beers down at the park. All thoughts of school and learning had been eliminated from his mind and his friends had been replaced with new ones. A pack of cigs and lighter appeared on his desk and Jeff shoved them into his pockets before unlocking the door to his room and checking himself out in the mirror one last time before heading out…