The food truck guy was right. Dalton felt stuffed to the gills. Even if the diet food could make him lose weight, there was no way he could force himself to eat any more. This being the transformation fair, though, there were probably dozens of other places to try and get rid of his unwanted new addition. He supposed the best place to start was with the food truck guy’s other suggestion, the quiz show.
While he wasn’t morbidly obese, he was still quite fat. Long distance walking had become an effort, a hot, sweaty effort. His dark blue morphsuit wasn’t making anything better, either. He eventually pulled back his hood, letting his short, black hair free. At least the morphsuit hid the sweat stains.
After asking for directions from what he at first had assumed was an ordinary dog wearing a morphsuit, he found his way to the building hosting the quiz show. It was a hastily constructed warehouse called “the Events Pavilion” with large signs proclaiming the myriad of games and events held there at different times. Luckily, the quiz show seemed to be running for another couple of hours, or, as the signs called it, “The Transformational Super-Quiz!”
Dalton sighed to himself as he saw there was another line, but was relieved when I saw it was moving fairly fast. He stepped in, feeling a little self-conscious about his body. He’d never been fat before, and kept wondering what other people were thinking about him. He tried sucking his stomach in, but there was just too much of it. He tried reminding himself that everybody was here for transformations, but he still couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed.
The line sped along and he soon found himself at a row of tables that was quickly sorting the people in line through.
“Next!” a man at one of the tables called out.
Dalton stepped up and the man plastered on an obviously fake grin.
“Hello, sir. Are you spectating or participating?”
“Uh, I want to take part in the quiz thing.”
The man nodded. “Participating, then? Alright. Do you know the rules?”
Dalton shook his head and shrugged. “I’ve never done this before.”
The man nodded. “Fine. They’ll explain it to you later, but I’ll give you the basics now. All games are 1 vs. 1, you competing against another person. There are five rounds. Each round, a trivia question will be asked. Before the question is asked, you will be given a category, such as ‘Geography’ or ‘Pop Culture.’ You will then have to opportunity wager a change, such as…” he looked Dalton up and down, “lose 20 pounds, or grow 6 inches. If you are able to answer the question correctly you will earn the change, and, just for fun, the opposite change will be applied to your opponent. The first contestant to buzz in gets to try to answer first. So, let’s say you wager to lose 20 pounds and buzz in and answer successfully. Not only do you lose weight, but your opponent will gain the 20 pounds you just lost. Do you understand that?”
Dalton felt a little overwhelmed. He nodded anyway, if only to move along quicker. “Sure.”
“Good. Like I said, they’ll explain it to you again when you get to your quiz room. You’ll need these…” The man handed Dalton what looked to be two leather wrist straps. “Put those on each of your wrists. Those are to make sure the changes are implemented during the quiz. You’ll also need this.” He handed Dalton a ticket. “Go down the hall and to the left to quiz booth 5. Next!”
Dalton made his way down the hall and saw a row of black doors, each with a white number printed on them. He entered the one marked 5, finding a rather small room. In the center, there was a table with two chairs facing each other. On the table were two screens, each facing a chair. On the far wall was a television screen, mounted below a camera.
Dalton guessed that these quiz competitions were broadcast to some viewing area somewhere else in the Event Pavilion, for the spectators to watch.
He hefted his bulk into a chair eager to get this over with. As he fastened a strap of each or his wrists, he mentally went over all of the bits of facts and trivia he’d learned in all of his seventeen years. Dalton did not have to wait long. The door opened and his opponent stepped in.
It was time for the quiz to begin.