Indeed, the gun had reversed, but only halfway. The top of Sharon's head was now just about even with Jim's eyes. "Again, Jim," Sharon urged him, "quick, it's working." Click, click, click; pull the trigger though he did, the gun had given its all. Jim held out the two inert halves of the defunct ray gun. "Shar, that's it." he said, "It won't do anymore." Sharon looked slightly up at him, then down at herself. Her breasts were still way out of proportion to what they had been, but not as bad as before; she could see her feet. "Well, at least you're a nice, manageable fifteen feet." Jim tried to sound cheerful. Sharon looked glum, "manageable? Jim, I'm still a freak. I can't fit in my house, my clothes, anything. My crazy neighbor's probably calling the CIA or somebody. I hate this." Jim wracked his brain for a solution, while Sharon strode across the yard to commandeer the awning from the patio to use as a toga. Just then...
Sat May 20 20:15:10 2000