Wendy Cushner sat eating with her friends at the outdoor picnic table. As usual. it was a ruckus, and as usual it was Wendy and her two friends, Jen and Tina, messing with Dylan, the only boy in their group of friends. Tina had grabbed Dylan's drink pouch and was agitating him by keeping it just out of his reach. He was yelling and reaching over the table toward it, trying to snatch it away.
Wendy shook her head and smiled as Jen leaned over the table to her. Whispering conspiratorially, as though it were some important mission, Jen suggested that Wendy inflate her drink pouch and put it on the seat for Dylan to sit on. With any luck, his shorts would get wet. At the very least, it would make a funny sound. Wendy giggled as she blew into the pouch. It was such a pointless thing to do. Dylan recovered his drink pouch and slammed himself down, annoyed, directly onto Wendy's pouch. It exploded not with a farting sound, but with a puff of vile smoke, which blew itself all over Wendy.
Events had been set in motion that would change Wendy Cushner for the rest of her life.
Wendy and Jen screamed at the unexpected result. Dylan sat there, confused. Tina wasn't sure what had happened, either. She just figured Wendy had set off one of her firecrackers again. Wendy began to cough as the dust settled onto her and dissipated. She stood up and dusted herself off.
"Wendy, are you alright?" Dylan asked with concern. He had noticed her skin turning a light shade of red.
"I'm fine..." Wendy stopped brushing as her skin deepened into a bright pink. "Maybe I'm allergic to whatever was in these drink pouches."
"Maybe you should see a doctor or something" Tina piped up. "You're starting to swell up."
Wendy watched her pink hands start to swell up. It began at the wrist and her palms began to grow. Wendy whimpered and rubbed her hands together, but they just kept swelling up. Bigger and bigger, the palms and backs of her hands were absorbing her pink fingers, leaving only the middle digits. Her remaining fingers ballooned out like sausages. Her other fingers were being sucked into her rapidly inflating hand. Before long they had disappeared completely. Wendy's hands were nearly a foot wide. She clapped her 'hands' together in a panic and realized they were filled with nothing but air. Her middle fingers were like balloon necks and the pressure caused them to pop, letting all of the air out with a bizarre farting noise. Frt. In a crazy twist of prankster irony, Wendy Cushner had grown a pair of whoopie cushions for hands.
Wendy only whimpered "whoopie cushions..." as Jen ran off to find help.
Dylan glanced down and began to back away. "Wendy, your feet... "
The skin all over Wendy's body had begun to feel rubbery, as though it were made of latex. Her feet began to swell out much as her hands did. Wendy wisely kicked off her sandals. Her heels ballooned out as her feet became rounded circles. Her toes disappeared quickly into the smooth, growing masses, except, again, for her middle toe. This became abnormally long. Wendy's feet had become nearly a foot wide; two giant whoopie cushions seamlessly attached to the ankles of her rubbery legs.
In a daze, Wendy began to walk home, unsure of what to do. Tina had freaked out and run off. Dylan was not much help, standing there staring at her. Who knows where Jen had gone to. With each step she took her whoopie cushion feet let out a *frt frt frt* sound. Fortunately Wendy's house was only a block away from the park. Hopefully not many people would see her like this. Wendy began to walk faster, whoopie cushion arms flailing awkwardly around her. She could feel each slap against the pavement, even though her feet held nothing but constantly inflating air. It was too much for her to process and she began to run.
Frt.
Frt.
Frt.