George slips off his shoes and the socks, tossing the magical footwear at Colby, who catches them midair. George smirks, though you can tell he's still simmering over his failed bowling attempt. "Here. Your turn. I'm going to get us some drinks."
You get up to bowl as Colby slips the socks on and George makes his way to the bar. You earn yourself another spare, a little impressed by your bowling skills. Well, your father's bowling skills. But, if you had made your body into your father's body, didn't that make them your skills as well? Now you've earned yourself a headache. You seat yourself as Colby records your score. With George still at the bar, Colby bowls in his stead. You look him over for signs of change, but he still looks like a stern, young, military man. Though, the short hair on his scalp doesn't look as dark as before. In fact, it seems to slowly be lengthening, until soon it is no longer a crew cut. He also seems to hold himself differently, his posture not quite as perfectly straight as it had been.
He sends his first shot hurtling down the lane, knocking about half the pins over. He seems a little shorter to you, now, his pants bunching a bit at his ankles. As he waits for his ball to return, it looks like his muscles are softening, his pectorals sagging under his shirt. HIs once firm abdomen begins pushing out from inside his shirt, forming a belly.
He looks down at his softening form and frowns. "Man. I'm fat to begin with. I was just getting used to having muscles."
You see red hair coat his arms and hands. Red chest hair pokes out from his shirt collar. He's quickly beginning to look as hairy as George's dad, though not as tall and not as fat. Even so, the musvle Colby had seems to have all converted into fat. His face rounds out and he develops a second chin. Despite his new hirsute body, he seems clean shaven.
George returns carrying a tray of plastic cups filled with beer. "I'm back. Whoa, look at Colby. Porking on the pounds, bud?"
Despite himself, Colby grins and pats his stomach. "Yeah, guess I am." He seems a lot less stoic, his mouth seemingly set in a constant grin. He's fairly short,now, about as short as George's teenage body. His round stomach sticks out over his waistline, but doesn't fold over. You can see lines forming around his eyes and jowls. His hair quickly retreats, leaving only red hair on the sides and back of his head, smattered with white specks. Colby is now a short, chubby man, appearing older than you, perhaps around 50. You've never been very good with ages, though.
Colby's ball finally returns. He sends it flying down the lane once again, knocking a few more pins over, but never getting a spare. He laughs it off and begins untying his shoes, getting ready to hand the socks to you.
You grab a beer and take a drink. While not good beer by any means, it's still beer. You stop and look up at George as he drinks a cup of his own.
"Wait. George, how did you get this? Didn't they card you?"
He swigs his beer and smirks at you, showing neat, white teeth. "Nope. Apparently I'm a regular here. I asked them to put it on my tab." He laughs a laugh that is not his own.
Colby laughs, too. "Funny. For being a regular you're awful at bowling."
George stops laughing and shoots him an angry glare. His new body apparently has a temper.