You find yourself unable to do anything but stare down disbelievingly at your friend as he runs and jumps frantically around your feet. You hear him screaming at the top of his lungs, but it hardly even seems sensible. You remain staring at the frantic friend for several minutes without doing anything, when you hear movement in the hallway on the other side of the door. Impulsively, you slam the door back shut behind you, wanting to keep this to yourself for the time-being.
By now, Brandon has calmed down a bit and has plopped down on the carpet, panting as he stares up at you. You reach down, grab him, and carry him over to your bed, where you sit and set him on your knee. Brandon shifts nervously as he looks up at you, but doesn't say anything. Just as you open your mouth to speak to him, you hear your door opening. Your head snaps toward the door just in time to see your younger brother Greg, standing in the doorway.
"What are you doing in he-- Hey, what's this?"
To your horror, you spot the gun just as Greg picks it up from the floor. Brandon must have dropped it as he shrunk.
"Hey, don't touch that!" you yell, uselessly, but Greg has already picked it up and started examining it.
"Shrink or grow?" he mutters, turning the gun over in his hands. You can take it no more. Forgetting all about your pint-sized friend on your knee, you jump up from the bed, causing Brandon to fall to the thankfully-carpeted floor, and try to wrestle the gun from Greg's hands, but in the struggle, the gun goes off and...
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