The recording session went fairly well. I managed to keep quiet for the most part and avoided changing reality in any noticeable way. And, seeing as how nothing at all seemed to changed, I could guess that Jeff was careful as well. He may have been lazy, selfish, and totally lacking in common sense, but he wasn't stupid.
We eventually ended the recording session, much to my relief.
"Hey, you were awful quiet," Kent said over the Skype call. "Something up?"
"Oh, nothing," I replied. "Just feeling a little tired, today. That's all."
Dan spoke up. "Yeah, it's getting kinda late. We should get together in person again, some time. Another movie?"
"I dunno, guys," said Kent. "I've got another con appearance coming up. Oh, and you didn't hear it from me, but I might be working with Markiplier on something pretty soon."
"THE Markiplier? Wow, man. You're really working your way up!"
I recalled that Kent's rise to internet stardom often left Dan and I in the social dust. He'd been available less and less as he worked with bigger and bigger internet names. We still managed to get our recording sessions in, but timing was getting really tight. The night at the movies had been the first in a long time. The gypsy curse was tearing my friend away from me.
I cleared my throat into the mic. "Well, guys. I have some... things to take care of. I'll see you later."
"See ya!"
"Bye!"
I ended the call and sighed. I looked down at my soft, round form. I had to do something about this.
"Jeff, we need to talk."
Jeff was still lounging on the couch, watching television. I was fairly positive he hadn't moved since I had last talked to him a few hours before.
He didn't even look my way. He merely scratched his fat, exposed stomach. Somehow, he looked even fatter than before. "Ya huh?" Heck, I weighed more than him, but at least I had the decency to wear clothes that still fit.
"Jeff, can you please pay attention? We have to do something about this curse!"
He shrugged disinterestedly and let out a soft belch. "I don't see the problem, man. If something's bugging you, just say something to make it better. That's what I've been doing."
I frowned. "Wait, what? What have you been doing?"
He looked up at me and smirked a little, his patchy mess of a beard shifting. He held out an empty hand. "It's a good thing I've got a full bag of chips with we to demonstrate with." Suddenly, there was an unopened bag of potato chips in his previously empty hand. He ripped it open and began devouring the contents. "See? It's not so bad."
My pudgy hands flew to the sides of my head. "Jeff! Every time we change things, it makes things worse for us! Who knows what consequences that could have for us!?"
Jeff rolled his eyes. "Dude, chill. They're just chips. You are getting way too worked up about this."
I took a deep breath. "Jeff. We need to find that gypsy woman as soon as possible. Like, tomorrow. I say we try the bus again. She's bound to ride it again at some point."
Jeff tried his best to ignore me and watch the TV. "Sure thing."
I held up a finger to emphasize my point. "In the mean time, please try to avoid changing reality. In fact, if you can avoid making any statements, that might be for the best. Jeff? Jeff, are you even listening? This is really important!"
He rolled his eyes again as he stuffed another handful of chips in his mouth. "Yeah, sure, whatever, Dad. Sheesh!"
"Jeff!" I nearly shouted as I felt another chill run through my body.
He must have felt something as well, because he stared down at his own chunky body, confused. "What? What did I say? I didn't do anything! Is this the chips thing? What the hell!"
Jeff suddenly began losing height. One moment, he was six feet or so with a messy beard and stained clothes. The next, his beard was retracting into his face and he was shrinking, as were his clothes to suit him. He was looking younger by the second. He felt the retracting hair on his face and looked down at his baby-smooth arms. "Oh my god!" he exclaimed, his voice cracking like a teenagers. He then looked up at me. "Your face!"
I reached up and felt my face. I felt rough stubble on my cheeks, which was odd as I was clean shaven just a moment ago. I made my way quickly to the bathroom to look in the mirror. I immediately wished i hadn't. I was aging before my own eyes. I had grown dark stubble, which was quickly progressing into a thick beard. The hair on my scalp seemed to be receding as well. I ruffled a hand through my hair, feeling the hair thinning under my palms. I looked down to see my stomach distend a bit as a gained another 20 pounds. I felt the body hair under my clothes thicken as I neared middle age. My hair loss slowed, leaving me with a badly receded frontal hairline, with a thin patch at the back. Several hairs on my chin turned gray, but the rest of it remained dark. I looked to be a man of about 40.
"Jeff," I growled, noticing my voice didn't sound all that different, but had some added gravel. "I'm going to murder you."
I stormed out of the bathroom, noticing that the apartment looked quite different. Jeff's belonging's seemed to be gone, for the most part. The apartment looked nice and clean, more so than it had ever been. The sitting area was clean of Jeff's food wrappers and drink bottles, and the couch looked to be in much better condition, if a little worse for wear than it had originall been. Sitting on the couch was a small, fat kid, no older than 10. I couldn't be sure but... "Jeff?"
The kid looked up at me, tears in his eyes. "Dad?"
Yup. Jeff had made me into his fat, forty-year-old dad. I sighed deeply. I wasn't ready to take care of a kid. Not now! But, then again, my memories told me that I had been for the last 10 years or so, ever since his mother had left me alone with him.
Jeff looked down at the carpet. "Dad, I'm really sorry. Maybe we can fix it. If we say just the right-"
"Jeff," I said, slowly but firmly. "Please go to your room. I have some things I've got to think about."
Jeff slid off the couch and trudged off to his room, looking downward the entire time. I sat myself into the couch, feeling relief for the aching in my ankles. Things had just gotten more complicated. Not only did I have to find this gypsy woman, but now I had to deal with a child version of Jeff, who doubled as my son. Great. I stroked my thick, but closely trimmed beard as I thought. This was not going to be easy.