"-make a highly significant deposit for the family's future?" Your father asks, stroking the stubble on his chin. He's always resented the fact that it remained that way, in contrast to his father's pride and joy -- his shovel-like, amber beard. Dad has always made attempts in order to grow out his own pride and joy -- to prove that he's a man -- yet his genetics have hampered his way. A way that seemed to be open to you in any case, as your curly auburn hair is a clear indications as to whose genes you've inherited. Genes your father wanted to give away.
"Would you like to see the options?" The clerk said smiling, as he leans forward and pulls out a cross-sectioned catalog. Your dad only grunts in affirmation.
You can't really see over your dad's shoulder: despite him being lanky and slim (he hates hitting the gym), he is a good head and a half above you. Of course, you know that you will reach that height (and hopefully outgrow) quite soon, but it still slightly bothers you that you can't see what he wants with you. All you want is to return home and launch up some video games on your Xbox Two, and hopefully meet up with your girlfriend soon.
Katy. Your sister (and dad) were incredibly surprised when you brought her home that day, after a slow walk in the park (suggested by her). They had always considered you a 'dweeb' and 'nerd', and they didn't hesitate to hold their tongues, which caused great frustration from your mother as you conflicted with them. Despite wearing the traditional round glasses that all nerds do (no, they weren't broken), you yourself looked quite... atypical for one. Even though video games were the pinnacle of your life, you never skipped your legwork... nor "armwork", for that matter, always spurred on by your mom.
You glance at your dad once more, standing there and flicking through the digital touch screen catalog that has been presented to him. You know that the power has gotten to his head, trying to steer you in a direction that he wants. A direction that you are quite sure is spurned by envy and anger. Why else would he be picking you out deposits instead of your sister? It has to be that.
You glance rightward in the direction of the neighboring till and see a man walking up to it -- tall, pot-bellied, and broad-shouldered, like a dresser, -- clicks on the menu a couple of times, takes a wad of cash out of his pocket, and hands it over to the teller. A minute goes by, and he suddenly grows about two inches in height, and about the same in broadness. You roll your eyes. When will those types realize that girls nowadays weren't looking for pinnacles of masculinity, as it has become extremely easy to buy up height and weight in the modern market. Something you seem to understand better than your father, as he constantly salivates over the two properties. You weren't the clueless, little boy he thought you were.
"...?" The agitated voice of your dad resounds near you while you tensed your bicep, comparing it with the one of the man exiting the building. You're pretty sure you win that comparison.
"Huh?" You answer, puzzled.
"I asked you if you would do anything to help this family?" Your father asks. What a strange question, you think. Your dad wasn't one to ask hypotheticals, so you weren't quite sure what he was referring to.
"Well, of course," you answer the no-brainer question. Best not to get on dad's bad side. That is when you notice it: the catalog page. The flashing screen. The words that were displayed on it: Humanity and Animation.
"You do realize that I will not permit this?" You firmly state, grabbing your dad by his bony wrist. His smile remains unwavered, as he smirks and turns to the teller.
"Did he agree to this?"
The teller also flashes a smile as he presses a gray, blocky button, causing the speaker to activate and repeat your deep baritone: "Well, of course." You don't understand. Normally, the tellers wouldn't accept that as evidence. After all, to give up your humanity and animation requires serious permission from the one it is being done to. In fact, it is the only regulated trade option by government. The queue for it is long, and it is worth its weight in gold. Literally. One could get millions if he gives up his humanity and animation. Oh how many homeless turned millionaire stories there are. But few non-poor people went for it, for obvious reasons. The regulations are tight. And you just notice the teller press a button.
Did he pay the teller off? Or was it someone he knew? You don't know, but you can feel your strength, your attributes, your... everything begin sucked away, as your dad whispers nearby, "Please be a car, please be a car..."
You're shocked, you're appalled, but there's nothing you can do as you shrink and drop to the ground as...
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