Game 2Game 2 Outline| Game 2 |
Game 2 Outline |
With nothing else that you are able to reach, you beep the horn on the steering wheel, hoping you can get someone's attention. You hope your still small enough to get out of the car at all, or else some will have to pry you out with the jaws of life, or cut you loose. When no one comes, you beep again and again, starting to get a bit scared, as you feel claustrophobic, and you are sure you can feel it getting tighter. But finally, you see Albert run out of the building. He looks around, and you beep again, and he spots the car, running over, opening the door. "About time you..." he stops as a roll of flab bounces out as the door opens, no longer pushing into the door, "Little help you say," trying to pull yourself out. "Geez, have you put on 700 pounds since this morning?" he says in amazed bewilderment, as he helps pry you out of the car, having to shift your bulk little by little out from behind the wheel. The process leaves you a bit bruised and huffing from effort, but free.
"Ok... what happened." you ask as you try to catch your breath, still trying to pull your shirt a bit lower.
"Oh, right..." says Albert, looking at you, "I'm guessing you never figured out the curse," he says, disappointed.
"No," you say, "I tried everything I could think of, ripping up photos, reversing photos, even trying another picture, but nothing worked."
"You tried taking another photo of yourself!?" says Albert.
"I was desperate, and I did it to the beanbag first, I just... mistook it busting a seam for it being normal again."
Albert brings a hand to his face.
"What has this got to do with your call?" you ask.
"Well, you took a photo of Rick." he says, and you remember that was the case.
"Don't tell he he's..." you start.
"He showed up here happy as a clam, bigger then his sister's fiancé." he says, "Said he had managed to achieve his goal all by himself. Then he started getting bigger."
"Great," you say, pretty sure where this is going. Rick had already been bulking up himself, you have no idea how the photo would have affected that process.
"Yeah, first he burst his clothing, then he got hungry, and went after the buffet table. Then the wedding cake. Then he broke the stage." says Albert, sounding more and more perturbed. "We've been trying to dislodge him before he landed on the table and catapulted the cake right into his mother."
You grimace. "And... how is he doing?" you asked, a little scared at the answer.
"Oh, he's fine, ecstatic at the attention, and I think his mom said something along the lines of, 'That may be a tad too big.' so he's enjoying every bit of this." He sighs.
"So what do we do now?" you ask, holding up the camera. Albert looks at it and says...
Written by an anonymous author
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