Josh Pollak slouched through the store. He felt defeated. Michelle Francis was the girl of his dreams: honey-blonde hair and curves in all the right places. He'd met her in the second year of university, at a party where their limited social circles had come together. She was part of the popular crowd, from a wealthy family, who seemed to know everyone on campus. He was a loser whose only friends were lab rats and slackers. They'd struck up a friendship, which had blossomed into something more pretty quickly.
Then fate – or rather her friends – had intervened. None of them liked him at all. Dawn, all fake tan, fake nails and hair extensions, didn't find him cool enough; anyone less than a jock wasn't worth her time. She was rich, spoiled, and constantly inferred Michelle was too good for him. Maya was just as bad; a beautiful mixed-race girl with a distinct punk vibe, he got the feeling that she wouldn't have approved of anyone dating her friend - let alone him. Then there was her roommate and best friend, Charlotte: a slight, short, shy redhead covered in freckles. Charlotte was too close to her; he suspected she probably loved Michelle herself, and saw Josh as a threat. Michelle was blind to it all, but listened to her friends.
All of that would have been bad enough, but then he'd faced the worst part of all: Chloe Francis, her mother. Mrs Francis was in her 40s, but had retained an incredible figure and knew it: every time they'd met her appearance had been immaculate. She worked for some major corporation, and evidently had already mapped out her daughter's future. She'd insisted Michelle go to university in her hometown, although her daughter had rebelled enough to live on campus rather than at home. Michelle's sisters were already doctors and lawyers, and Mrs Francis had made it clear she saw Josh as a distraction her daughter did not need. Their two meetings had been frosty and uncomfortable; Michelle visited home every Sunday, and had mentioned that her mother often spoke of him in disapproving terms.
Now, here he was, late on a Saturday, walking around some second rate collectibles store, looking for something weird to cheer him up. Two days ago Michelle had told him they needed to stop seeing each other. It wasn't him, she insisted, it was her. He knew what that meant: the months of whispers had finally got to her. If only there was a way to convince her friends to say something good about him, get off his back...
He returned to his shopping. The store was full of old costumes, used models of the Enterprise, half-complete card sets and old Magic cards. He was about to give up when he noticed a small box, almost forgotten, on a dusty shelf in the back. It looked old and out of place - just his kind of thing. He couldn't resist the opportunity to walk over and take a look.
It was a small box, wooden, with letters neatly engraved on the top: “Costume set” , followed by some worn, unrecognizable initials. Weird, he thought. This is too small for a costume. Carefully, his fingers lifted the latch and brought up the lid. Inside were two pens, sat in a neat lining. One black, one brown. Both had a button on them, both a strange symbol. Weird...but awesome.
“What are these things?” he said, calling out to the shop assistant. “These pens?”
“Beats me,” the assistant said. She was cute, about 20 years old, bright pink hair pushed out in pigtails like some anime character, wearing a Firefly T-shirt and jeans. “The manager said he picked 'em up at a garage sale. Some kind of TV prop. The previous owner said the idea is you point the black pen at someone and 'pow' – turns them into an instant costume. Like a disguise you wear, or something. Pretty creepy, huh?”
“Does it work?” Josh asked. The assistant scoffed.
“Yeah, right! A pen that turns someone into a costume. What kind of planet are you from? It's a novelty, it's not real. Do you think those sonic screwdrivers we've got from Dr Who fans are real? Or that Darth Vader helmet? It's just a prop... no idea what show it's from, though.”
Josh smiled bashfully. Yeah, of course he was being stupid. The idea though... to be able to turn someone else into a disguise? Just point, click, and you were someone else? His thoughts turned to Michelle again. With such a power, he'd easily correct everything her friends and family had said about him. Or maybe he'd just get some payback on them, see how they liked it to have someone mess with their life.
“How much?” he said, closing the lid.
“Twenty bucks.”
“Sold.”
Josh scooped up the box and handed over the cash. Of course it wasn't real – it was just pretend. But what if... what if it actually did work?
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
