Magical Potion

I am a certified test subject, certified is something I say so it sounds classier than it is. Really, to be a test subject, you just have to be a human, alive, and the lab usually prefers that you're in good health. The lab I give my services to is a small lab that specializes in Oddities. Oddities are little known drugs that cause reactions that are classified as strange, not normal, and odd. They are usually controversial, and have been known to have little to no side effects. The testing of such drugs is usually done for the humor of seeing what 'this' mixed with 'that' will do when ingested.

I enter the lab, say hi to the front desk girl, and proceed through a pair of double doors.

The doctor I usually work with turns to me and nods. He holds up a beaker full of a bubbling liquid that keeps changing color. I look at it closely.

"What is this?" I ask. It has no scent.

"The latest," the doctor says. It's his usal reply.

I shrug my shoulders and down it.

The potion works fast and before I know it my skin is green and I've grown a couple feet in height. My muscles are larger as well, and I feel a terrible pain in my head. An insatiable need to be destructive over comes me.

I stand breathing heavily over the doctor who acts as if this is not an irregular circumstance.

"The potion's properties will probably change every few minutes for the next hour, after that everything should be normal," the doctor tells me. "I will be keeping track of what happens to you, how you feel, you know, standard procedural stuff." He clears his throat.

I don't think 'stuff' is something a doctor should say, but right now I don't even think of that. All I want to do is break something. The small rack of glass testing tubes on the counter look lovely. Too lovely. I grab them and throw them on the floor. They shatter and the wooden rack splits into two peices, much to my delight. But it just isn't enough.

"That was fun I want to break more stuff!" I try to say, but it comes out an unintelligible growl.

The doctor clears his throat and puts his hands in the pockets of his lab coat. He looks at the broken tubes on the floor, and then at me.

Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a forefinger he says, "That was unnecessary."

I apologize profusely, a series of grunts and snorts. My body starts to tingle as I swipe my arm across a set of beakers that crash to the floor. I look at my arm and it is no longer green. The muscles are no longer bulging. I look up and the doctor seems to be growing larger by the second.

He chuckles as he looks down at me. I’m no larger than his shoe. He places a mirror on the floor and I notice a pair of small black eyes, whiskers, a twitchy nose. Good gracious! I’ve turned into a mouse!

For the rest of the hour I experience several changes, some similar, some different. At one point I become invisible, another some gaseous form; I can walk through things. In an instant I turn into a woman, then a dog, then the doctor himself, a perfect clone. The doctor merely chuckles at each change. I’ve gone from being his guinea pig to his mode of entertainment.

When all is finished, I feel fine, exuberated even. The doctor notes my health, vital information and how I personally feel. He hands me a check for the amount we had agreed upon.

“If you feel anything, don’t hesitate to contact me,” he hands me a card. “I will keep in touch in case I need you again.” He forces a smile as his eyes shift to the smashed articles on the floor, then back to my face.

I look at the check and am very pleased with what I had negotiated. I leave the office in high spirits and head for the bank.

On the way there, I start to feel an insatiable urge to break things.


Word Count: 712