At first, Sharon didn't notice anything wrong with the exception of a pounding headache and an awful taste in her mouth. She lifted her face off the table and spat the the side. Ugg, what an awful taste. she tought and layed her head back down, turning it to the side so as not to mush her nose. At least I'm not strapped down anymore.
Wait a minute! Mush her nose? She was strapped down on her back. "What the hell?" she asked noone in particular. She could feel the tabe on her back, yet she was looking right at it without turning her head. "What the fah?" she asked noone in particular again and sat up. She looked around the room.
There were beakers and testubes all over the place, along with the occasioal bunsen burner thrown in for good measure. Retort stands and microscopes were in a cabinet on the wall beside the door through which she remembered entering with Mr. Black. Another door was on the opposite side of the room and sharon had no idea where that lead, nor did she really care right now for she had loked down at her body and was completely supified. Down below her chin she could see her shoulderblades moving under her skin, and the knobby ridge of her spine that flowed down into her butt.
Finally it cam to her foggy mind. Oh my God! she tought. My head is on backwards. What the hell else happened while I was out?
Mon Oct 25 10:37:59 1999