"Guys, what the hell!" you shout up to them. Their bodies are twice your size and seem to surround you in all directions. You can't even see properly out the windshield anymore.
"See, we told you it would be less cramped!" Chad laughs, and it is confirmed in your head that your friends have been planning this. If it weren't all so impossible, it would seem like a funny enough joke, but you needed to assert yourself immediately to stop things from getting out of hand.
Your seatbelt had not contracted around you, so you immediately began wriggling to escape the eight-inch band that crossed your lap. Because Jack had been the one to suggest you wear the band (which would not come off your wrist), you turned on him as quick as a tiger, punching his upper arm as you stood up. "I don't know what the hell is going on, but you'd better grow me back right now!" you shout. Chad laughs at the ineffectual squeak of your voice, but Jack winces. "Hey, get him to stop, I'm going to drive off the road!"
And then massive hands, a foot across each, grab your muscular upper arms, pulling you back away from Jeff's chunky form. "Easy now little feller," soothes Chad. "Be good and we'll grow you back later."
"Grow me back NOW!" You writhe in his grasp, even though you realize that it would do no good. You're standing up on the big seat and your head is still only level with his.
"I thought he'd be a better sport," Jack mused.
"We can at least make him a quieter sport," Chad replied as if you weren't there. He reaches into the glove compartment for a certain device, and suddenly your world shifts again.
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