George pulls out a pair of tennis shoes. They're pretty nondescript, other than they're white and bear their brand logo on the side. George seems to look them over, considering his choice.
You clear your throat. "So, are you going to try them on, or what?"
George takes a deep breath and slips them onto his feet. The shoes look ridiculously large on him. In fact, the shoes look bigger than your own. Er, your own dad's shoes, that is. George stands up and walks a couple steps, the shoes flopping about on his relatively small feet.
George looks back at you, an eager expression on his thin face. "How long does it usually take for the changes to start?"
You scratch at your stubbly cheeks and shrug. "Uh, it can take a minute for the changes to get going. But once they do, they don't take that long. What'd you do? Just fill a box with a bunch of random shoes?"
George glances down at his box of footwear. "Kinda. I went to our garage and threw a bunch of shoes in. I don't know who most of them used to belong to. I also grabbed some specific ones." He lifts a leg and wiggles his foot, the shoe flopping about comically. "These are my dad's."
Colby glances at both of you incredulously. "Seriously? Is everybody going to turn into their dad?"
George shrugs. "Well, he said that it was actually pretty fun being his dad. I wanted to try it. If it doesn't work out I have plenty of other shoes I can try."
Colby frowns. "After I get a turn, you mean."
George chuckles. "Yeah, don't worry. Both of you guys get to go. I won't hog the socks."
You smirk and waggle your hand at the boys. "I'm good. You kids have fun." You absentmindedly sip at your beer and wonder if there were any sports games on.
You get an odd glance from Colby. "Are you okay?" he asks. "You've been acting kind of funny since-"
He's interrupted by a sudden gasp from George. His eyes are wide and a giddy grin spreads across his face. "I think it's happening, guys!"
Colby leans forward and peers at his tall friend. "How do you know? You look the same."
George, still grinning, lifts his foot up and waggles it about again. Unlike last time, the shoe does not flop about. It fits him almost perfectly.
"No way..." Colby mutters.
As you watch, George's body seems to slowly elongate, his body increasing in height inch by inch. You also see his fiery red hair slowly change to a darker, browner shade of red. As that happens, you see the hair on his arms begin to thicken and darken, becoming a dense layer on his forearms.
"Oh my god," he mutters, his voice sounding significantly deeper than before. His eyes suddenly light up. "Mirror! I need a mirror!"
You quickly look around, trying to see if you can locate a wall mirror of other reflective surface in the room.
"Phone!" Colby turns to you. "Let him use the camera on your phone!"
"Oh! Yeah." How had you forgotten? You pull your phone out of your pocket and... hesitate. How did that work, again? You couldn't seem to remember how to turn it on, much less access the camera. It was one of the buttons on the side, but there were so many, and each did something different. Since when did phones need so many buttons, anyway? They were for talking to people, why should you need them to be a camera, too?
Colby snatches the device from your rough hands and, with surprising speed, turns it on and accesses your camera. Luckily, you had yet to set a locking code on the thing. Colby quickly offers it to George, who takes it in his enlarged hands.
He's just in time, as orange stubble begins appearing along his jaw. George's increased height had caused his shirt to ride up on his torso and his pants to expose his ankles. You can see brownish-orange hair appear to coat his stomach, especially below his belly button. The same hair generously coats his ankles. You thought you were hairy, but George was beginning to put you to shame. George takes his eyes away from the phone screen to look down at the backs of his hands, which, like his forearms, had a generous coating of brownish hairs.
"Damn." George's eyes are as big a saucers. "I mean, I knew my dad was hairy, but damn!"
His face takes on a curious expression as he puts a hirsute hand to his now equally hirsute stomach. His stomach seems to begin bloating. As that happens, his face starts rounding out underneath his new, thick beard and he starts looking thicker all over.
"Clothes!" he suddenly exclaims in a deep voice that wasn't his own. "I forgot about the clothes. Here, help me, would you?"
You and Colby, well mostly you, help George to quickly slip off his ever-tightening t-shirt. The body hair had covered more than just his forearms and stomach. The brownish forest seemed to cover nearly every inch of his torso, laying thickest on his chest, stomach, and arms.
"Holy crap, George." You let out a chuckle. "I never knew your dad to be so, well, you know."
"Pants," he mutters with a pained expression on his face. You look down, seeing his stomach was slowly increasing in size, its round shape becoming the dominant feature on his body. The waist of the pants looked as though it was beginning to painfully cut into his new gut. You quickly get him seated and, with some struggling, you and Colby manage to yank the tight denim off his thick, hirsute legs. All that remained on him were his too-tight boxer briefs, the magic socks, and his father's shoes. Out of context, he would have looked absolutely ridiculous. Heck, in context he still looked ridiculous.
You look up and see George's beard had grown thick and bushy, perfectly matching his father's unkempt facial hair. His whole body had thickened to a significant degree, his large gut hanging over his waistband and spilling onto his lap as he sat. Though he wasn't morbidly obese, he was by no stretch of any definition skinny. His pecs had long ago sagged into hairy moobs and his body looked soft all over. His bushy beard covered his round cheeks, and maybe even a possible second chin, though it was impossible to tell. Although, you could tell there may be some muscle under that flab.
You watch as the the changes enter their final stages. Lines form under George's eyes and etch themselves into his forehead. A couple streaks of gray reveal themselves in his thick beard and his scalp hair starts to dramatically thin out. His hairline recedes to about halfway across his head and a large bald spot forms as all the hairs there vanish. The hair left in between thins out, but doesn't vanish altogether. The remaining hair on the sides of his head stays thick and bushy, not unlike his beard.
From what you can tell, the changes have finished. George peers into the phone screen, looking deep into the face what was once his father's, and was now his. He grins.
"Amazing..."
With some struggling, he stands back up and examines the body he now occupies. You note that your brief time as the tallest among you three had ended, as George now stands a full 6 inches taller than you. He delicately pats the thin hair on top his scalp, then vigorously rubs it. He combs his fingers through his big, bushy beard, feeling the flesh underneath. He cups his large belly and shakes it slightly, feeling its weight. You might not be the tallest anymore, but at least George couldn't give you any guff for your beer belly. Your gut was tiny compared to his.
George hands the phone back to Colby. His eyes are wide and he has a wild grin. He chuckles slightly. "I'm my dad."
You start chuckling as well. Soon you're both laughing. Colby glances between you two, not entirely sure what was so funny. "I don't get it."
You shake your head at the kid. "Don't worry about it."
After he calms down, George thumbs the elastic of his much too small underpants. "Um, Colby, I didn't think to bring any bigger clothes. Ah, do you think you have any underwear here that might fit my new size?"
Colby frowns. "You could always change back. Your underwear would fit you, then. So would the rest of your clothes."
George shakes his head, the motion causing his beard to bounce about. "It's your turn for the socks, bud. Like I promised. Also, these underpants are getting REALLY uncomfortable and the last thing I want is for the elastic to snap in front of a kid."
Colby sighs. "I'll see what I can do."
After he leaves the room, you and George share glances. "What's eating him?" George asks.
You shrug, relaxing on the couch again. "Who knows with kids these days." You go to take another sip of your beer, only to realize the can was already empty. "So, how do you feel?"
George begins examining himself again. "Great, actually. It kinda feels, right, you know? I mean, it's really weird, but it's kind of familiar at the same time. Does that make any sense?"
You nod. "I know exactly what you're talking about."
George sits down next to you and goes to remove the shoes and socks, only to find his gut gets in the way. George attempts several positions to reach his own feet, until he finds one that works. "How do people get used to this?"
You offer to help but George ignores you, eventually pulling the shoes and socks off on his own, with some struggle. Colby comes back with several pairs of underwear in his arms, all of varying shapes and colors. He hands them to George. "I think some of these might fit. Some are my dad's and some are my older brother's. I don't think any of them are quite your size, but they should at least fit you better than what you've got now."
"Thanks." George tousles Colby's hair before going to the bathroom to change underpants. He comes back out soon after wearing a pair of green boxers and a pleased expression.
Colby then tosses a mass of grey fabric at him. "This is my brother's sweat suit. It's probably a little small, but I'd appreciate it if you weren't mostly naked in my house."
"Alright," says George, looking the clothes over. "Fair's fair. It's your turn by the way. You can use any of the shoes I brought if you want. Or any of the ones you've got. I don't care."
As George begins attempting to pull the sweat clothes on, Colby takes the socks and looks them over, tracing one of the vertical green pinstripes with his finger. He looks at the pile of shoes near George, then inspects his own box of shoes he'd brought for himself. He weighs his options.