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Come on, coolness isn't everything

"I don't really want to come. I'm busy with, um... stuff," you growl into the phone.

"Fine, I'll tell the others you chickened out," Mike sneers. Your popularity, if you ever return to normal, will take a huge nosedive. But who gives a damn? How can you go out three inches taller, about 40 pounds slimmer and with three feet of red hair, not to mention... your... y'know. Chest-decorations. You go back up to Grampa's room and sit in the chair, despairing. But as you do so, the chair collapses, depositing you once more into the lab!

Great! So what to do now?

Written by an anonymous author (edited by wanderer)

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