The trivia game show was an interesting idea, but sounded too risky to Dalton. He’d never been good at that sort of stuff and was likely to wind up with even more unwanted additions. He also sure as heck didn’t want to spend the entire day like this. Walking had become more of a chore than before, and he was constantly sweating. He needed to slim back down as soon as possible.
Luckily, the Transformation Fair had information booths. Dalton quickly made his way over to the closest one and knocked on the window to the get the young, bored-looking attendant’s attention.
She glanced out at the corpulent Dalton and put aside her magazine. “Hello, sir. How can I help you?”
A little embarrassed, Dalton cupped his newly acquired gut with his hands and gave it a small jiggle. “Um, where’s the best place to get rid of this?”
The attendant frowned. “You’re going to have to be more specific, sir. There are many different places and events at the Fair that could take care of, uh, that. What are you looking for, exactly?”
Dalton sighed, letting go of his belly fat. “I want the most reliable place here that can get rid of this extra fat. No games, to tricks, just a straight forward change. Do you guys have that?”
The attendant smirked slightly. She reached out the window and grabbed one of the brochures hanging outside the booth. She unfolded it to reveal a map. She pointed at the top edge. “If you want straight forward body modification, I suggest you try here, at Shape Shifter’s. It’s my personal favorite. I like to visit there whenever I’m off-duty. The only problem is, unless you have a Fast Pass, the lines tend to get pretty long.”
Great, more lines. Though, it was his rush to avoid lines that got him in this predicament in the first place. It would have to do. Perhaps he could make other alterations to himself while he was there.
“That’ll work. What’s the fastest way to get there?”
She pointed to several other spots around the map in sequence. “We have regular shuttles running around the park, free for public use. Though, if you want the absolute fastest way from here to there, I would try the Time Line.”
She pointed to a blue dotted line running North-South through the center of the park. The Northern part wasn’t too far from Shape Shifter’s. He could see the information booth wasn’t far from the south part, either.
“You may have seen it when you first entered the fairgrounds. It’s the blue ski lift that runs the length of the Fair. Just take a seat and ride.”
Dalton nodded. It was fast, he would get an excellent view of the park, and, best of all, he wouldn’t have to walk.
He thanked the attendant and took the map. She gave him an odd smile and returned to her magazine, watching him as he left. While he thought that was strange, he figured if he had to sit in a booth watching half transformed people walk by for hours on end, he might be a little strange, too.
It was a short walk to the boarding area for the Time Line. Like the information booth attendant had described, it was very similar in design to a ski lift. Benches hooked onto rails swooped down in constant motion to scoop up their passengers. The passengers were taken high above the fairgrounds, pulled along past a series of tall, blue pylons, supporting the rail they sailed on. Presumable, there were then deposited on the north end of the fair as other passengers were scooped up to be taken back down south, were Dalton was. Indeed, as he approached he could see arriving passengers hopping off their benches as new passengers hopped on.
There was a bit of a line, but it was moving fairly swiftly, so Dalton wasn’t terribly bothered. Ahead of him, he saw the attendants manning the lift seemed to have scanning devices, not unlike the ones he would see at supermarkets. The scanned where the visitors had their chips implanted when first entering the fair, then ushered into position to be swooped up by the lift.
At one point, an elderly couple was turned away after being scanned by the attendants. When they asked why, the attendants pointed to a nearby sign. The sign read: “Ride the TIME LINE! Two riders per lift. No rider’s current physical age may be over 50.”
Of course, Dalton thought that was a bit strange, but everything here was weird. Maybe it was an insurance thing? Still, despite his newfound girth, he was still sitting comfortably at 17 years old.
The line moved quickly as Dalton watched people board and depart the Time Line. Now that he was getting closer, he was able to see how new and shiny the whole system looked. It was as if someone had installed it only yesterday. He also noticed most of the people exiting the Time Line seemed to be kids and teens. Perhaps there was a youth event was happening at the south end of the fair?
Dalton felt someone suddenly grab his arm. He turned to see an attendant scan him where his blood had been drawn earlier. The attendant nodded. “Please step up to the yellow line, sir.”
Dalton took a quick step forward into the path of an empty bench. He was quickly joined by another man before they were both swept up into the booth and, within seconds, quickly climbing above the smaller buildings of the fair.
Dalton watched the ground fall away beneath them. “Woah!”
“Pretty cool, huh?” The man sitting next to him grinned as the people below them grew smaller and smaller. “We have something just like this at our state fairs.” He held a hand out to Dalton. “Randall.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Dalton shook the offered hand. “Dalton.”
Randall was a dark-haired man in his early-twenties. While he wasn’t terribly athletic, he had a fit build. It was hard to tell while sitting, but he appeared to be just slightly taller than Dalton. He had the hood of his black and white checkerboard morph suit pulled back, and Dalton could see he had a perpetual shadow along his jaw, despite being clean shaven.
Randall peered back down at the dwindling landscape below. “First time here?”
Dalton nodded. “Yeah.”
“Me, too.” Randall chuckled. “I’ve been avoiding any changes so far. I want to look at everything first, then I’ll decide how I want to change.”
Dalton agreed. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. So, find anything cool?”
Randall thought for a moment before grinning. “Yeah, I did. You’re over 21, right? We could celebrate properly at this bar I found that sells transformational drinks.”
Dalton considered it. He and Randall had never gotten the chance to celebrate his 21st birthday properly. Well, there’d been cake, but he didn’t need any of that. He subconsciously rubbed his stomach. The morph suit rubbed uncomfortably against his body hair chaffing his skin.
Randall continued, rubbing the short bristles of his well-groomed beard. “I did come across this place where you have several people sit in a bowl thing that spins them around. You know, kind of like the tea cups at Disney World. Only this one mixes all their traits around. We could try that out if you want.”
Dalton pulled back the hood of his own morph suit. Despite sitting, he was feeling a little sweaty. “That sounds interesting.” He grinned and patted his stomach. “You might end up with this, though. I’ve had a few years to get used to this. You haven’t. If you want a preview I found this food truck that sells burgers that make you put on weight.”
Randall chuckled. “I can’t imagine that’s very popular with the crowd.”
Dalton watched as the buildings passed by beneath them. He could see elaborate decorations, flashing lights, and even a few clowns. One of the clowns had a water gun that he was squirting people with. It was hard to tell this far up but it looked like the people that were hit by the water were turning all kinds of vibrant shades of purple, yellow, blue and so on.
He glanced over at Randall sitting beside him. They’d been friends for over 10 or so years. They’d been pretty close. They’d even decided to visit this fair together. Dalton noticed a slight curve to Randall’s stomach through the skin-tight morph suit. Now that his friend was entering his mid-thirties, his fit figure was beginning to slip. Dalton could also spot hints of grey in his friend’s beard. Dalton rubbed his own goatee. He was over thirty, himself. It wouldn’t be long before his own body would begin to show signs of age.
Speaking of age, Dalton could spot some chips in the paint of the once-pristine bench they were sitting on. Looking up he could spot the occasional rust spot on the rail and paint peeling on the pylons as they passed by. It looked like the Time Line hadn’t been repainted since the Transformation Fair had first opened.
He glanced at the people riding the Time Line the opposite direction of him. They seemed to mostly be young kids in their twenties. He remembered when he had been so young. It was funny how quickly time slipped away.
“Hey, Dalton. Look down there!”
Dalton leaned over Randall and looked down to where he was pointing. He saw a group of college-age kids purchasing rubber animal masks from a kiosk. As they donned the masks, their bodies seemed to shift and change, the masks becoming their actual faces.
“We should try those.”
Dalton nodded. “Sure. If you want.”
He leaned back into his own seat and looked back at Randall. Now in his early-forties, notable lines had begun forming around his eyes. His beard had become a little scraggly, not as tightly groomed, and had become mostly gray in color, while gray had begun to sprinkle the hair on his scalp. He’d also put on some more weight, a small gut rounding out his stomach and his face beginning to look a little round. Dalton knew that if Randall didn’t get his weight under control, he’d end up like himself.
Dalton patted his stomach again. He’d been putting on some weight. He was in his late-thirties, and he’d begun to notice the first signs of middle age approaching. He’d begun to notice numerous gray hairs in his goatee, as well as permanent lines forming on his face. He was also pretty sure his hair had begun to recede. At least Randall was lucky enough to keep all his hair.
Dalton tapped his friend on the shoulder. “Hey, Randall. Look there.”
They both looked down as a group of kids ran around, all carrying what looked like differently colored ray guns. As they zapped each other, different parts of their bodies seemed to either change in size or disappear or reappear entirely. They seemed to be having a blast. Oh, to be young again.
“You ever wish you settled down and had kids, Dalton?”
Dalton shrugged. “Nah.”
He glanced back at Randall. Now in his late-forties, his entire beard had gone grey, transitioning to white around his mouth. His hair was grey as well, with streaks of white at his temples. He’d also put on more weight, his face rounding out and his stomach bulging. He was nowhere near as chunky as Dalton, but he wasn’t the fit young man he’d been in his twenties. He’d also let his beard grow out more. Dalton would say Randall had let himself go, but Randall just said he’d let himself “relax.”
Of course, Dalton didn’t have it much better. Now in his early-forties, he was finding new gray hairs every week. He’d gotten his hair cut very short as his hairline was continuing to recede. Maybe he could find something here at the fair to help take care of that.
Randall pointed ahead of them. “Look over there. I can see the end.”
Past the bench in front of them, which contained a couple in their fifties, Dalton could make out a station identical to the one they had boarded on the south end of the fair. He grimaced as he observed the badly peeled paint. In fact, there seemed to be more exposed, oxidized metal showing than actual paint. Somehow, the Time Line looked even older than the Transformation Fair it was built for. Perhaps that was on purpose, hence the name. Heck, he couldn’t figure out any other reason it was called the Time Line.
After a couple minutes, the seat lowered close enough to the ground for the two to step off and to the side, allowing the empty bench to pick up its next set of riders. As Dalton and Randall walked off to the side, Dalton noted the sign on this end. “Ride the TIME LINE! Two riders per lift. No rider’s current physical age may be under 35.”
That was sort of a strange restriction. He saw the attendants turn away some college-age kids who were trying to get on. He wondered why they would do that.
Either way, Dalton certainly qualified to ride back. At 47 he wasn’t a young man anymore. He had a definite bald spot on the back of his scalp, with a severely receded hairline and only a thin smattering of hair in between. He had grey peppering his remaining hair and goatee. His weathered face and protruding belly helped to sell his maturity.
Randall was no better. In his early-fifties, his hair was grey and his beard was white. He had gotten quite flabby since his days as a young man, but he didn’t seem to mind. He’d become something of a free spirit as he aged, embracing his maturity.
Randall nudged Dalton. “Alright, now that we’re up here, what should we do?”
Dalton recalled coming up here for some reason, but he couldn’t quite recall what. Looking around, he saw a large building labeled “Shape Shifter’s.” There was also what looked to be amphitheater where some sort of indie band was playing, as well as a slew of other attractions all around them.
As he though, Dalton crossed his arms across his chest, resting them atop his belly. He’d have to think for a moment. So many choices, so little time.