With a grin, Steve said, “Oh, hey, I was wondering if you were ever going to come back here and see what was going on.”
I closed the door behind me. “Up,” I commanded.
Steve got up from my desk chair, but said, “Okay, but I don’t think that’s going to do you much good.”
“What do you mean?” I said, sitting down and unconsciously crossing my legs in front of me. I turned to face the screen and was suddenly hit with a severe bout of nausea.
“Oh, my God,” I moaned, my only thought becoming getting to a toilet. But as I got up again, in an instant I felt perfectly fine.
“What did you do?” I asked Steve. I turned back toward the computer, but the instant the screen got in my field of vision, the nausea returned. I had to turn away again and say, with an edge in my voice, “Steve, fix this.”
Steve had a bigger grin on his face. “Wow, everything I type into this program just works. I made it so if you look at the screen while it’s running , you would feel really sick.” He sat down at the computer again and cracked his knuckles. “Let’s see -- what should I do now?”
“Turn things back to normal,” I said. I couldn’t look in Steve’s direction without seeing the screen, so I had sat down on my bed, facing my closet, which seemed to hold nothing but skimpy female outfits.
“You’re kidding, right?” asked an incredulous Steve. “I don’t know how much you saw on your way back here, but I turned all the women in the world into hotties! Or, at least, that’s what this thing claimed -- I couldn’t believe it when I found those options, but then when I changed something and the stuff in this room changed...“
I sighed a bit. Okay, I guessed I should let him have his fun for now. The really important matter was something else.
“Whatever,” I said. “Just turn me back into a guy.”
“But I’ve been kind of using you as a template for everyone else,” said Steve. “Oh, and the best part -- colleges have co-ed roommates now!”
I rolled my eyes. “Then make it so we’re not roommates anymore so we can both be guys.”
“I can’t do that,” Steve protested.
“What? Why not?!”
“It’s this program,” said Steve. “There is something it won’t let me do -- I can’t move it off this computer, either by trying to use the program, or, you know, any other way I could think of.”
“So?” I demanded.
“If we weren’t roommates, I wouldn’t have easy access to your computer.”
I groaned. There were a few seconds of silence, and then I heard typing.
“What are you doing?” I asked cautiously.
“I just got an idea,” Steve said.
“What?”
He didn’t say anything, just kept typing. Finally, the tapping of the keyboard stopped for a couple of seconds, and then I heard one key click loudly -- Enter, I surmised.
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