He shrinks a couple of inches, loses most of his hard-won biceps, and his hair goes from his usual blond mop to your shorter brown style.
When the changes finish, it takes a few minutes before he can speak. You just watch him pinch himself, with a "Told ya so" smirk on your face.
"Wow. You really weren't kidding."
"Wait a second..." You pull up a picture on your own iPod and show him.
"So...", he says, "does everything, you know, work?"
"Dude, go in the bathroom for that. The point is, we can be anyone. Think about it. All you have to do grab one the uniforms that your dad has, and BANG! You're walking around looking like whoever wore the jersey last. The girls are gonna be lined up around the block for you."
"Alright, I'm sold. Who do we do first?"
"First of all, there's no 'we' in this right now. You can't change again for 12 hours. I'll go upstairs and dig through his jersey box."
You get to the storage room, and open the box to find a memorabilia collection that would make most men fall on their knees. Jerseys from every sport were there: basketball, football, baseball, even a couple of hockey shirts. Does he take one of these, or does he dig deeper?
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