>”Guys, I said no strippers,” Jeff laughed as his friends tied him to the table. “If Mary found out she’d…”
His voice and his laughter trailed off as his best man brought into a room not a stripper, but a can of pink spray paint. As they coated his body with it, he felt his skin thicken into gaudy, pink plastic and his flesh melt away. In no time at all, he had become a love doll tied to the table in the back room of some seedy club.
It is a bachelor party, he reasoned, as his drunken friends shoved a funnel into his puckered mouth and began to drag a keg of beer over. This sort of stuff is supposed to happen.
The beer began to flow into the funnel; the room swam around his head as his body swelled with alcohol.
I just hope one of them is sober enough in the morning to remember to change me back.