“What the fuck, man?” He said, looking uselessly at his arms that were wrapped in white fabric.
I looked down at my own costume. My hands were similarly covered in nylon green fabric that didn’t even have fingers. Instead they just looked like leaves on the vine. I pulled on the bottom of the costume, trying to lift it up over my head. But it wouldn’t move much at all since the whole thing wrapped between my legs.
“How are we supposed to get these things off?” I asked.
Chris shook his head slowly, despondent face looking out from a yellow chicken beak. “I don’t know, man.” And then he suddenly shifted in his seat. “What the?” He said. He got up and looked at his bed.
“What is it?”
“Dunno. It just felt like I was sitting on something.” We both looked at his bed, and there was nothing there, the sheets and blankets having been pushed to other side. Chris sat down again with a confused and furrowed brow. And then his eyes went wide. Something took over Chris. Something a little instinctual, and something a little magical. He sat up straight, he folded his winged arms at his sides.
“Bwack-Bwack-Bwack!” Chris suddenly clucked. And then something popped in his suit right around his ass.
“What. The. Hell.” I asked, still flat against the door. Or as flat as I could make myself while wearing an oversized pumpkin costume. Chris, nervous and a little scared, stood up and turned around. A blue plastic egg almost the size of his hand sat on the bed right where he had been sitting, “Did you just lay an egg?”
“It was just in my costume, I swear. I didn’t actually lay it!” Chris’s cheeks burned inside his costume and sweat beaded on his forehead. Neither of us could believe it, but the night had somehow gotten worse.
“Fuck this,” I said, running past Chris and over to his desk. I started pulling out drawers and rummaging through his stuff. I found school work, Magic cards, pens, but no scissors to cut open this damned and ridiculous costume.
“There’s something written here,” Chris said, reaching for the egg with his winged arms.
“I don’t care,” I said, starting to pull out drawers with my leafy hands. More school work. Some porn. Still no scissors. “I’m getting out of this suit before someone turns me into pumpkin pie.”
I heard, but didn’t pay attention, to whatever Chris began to read.
“Hello Boys,
Earlier tonight you threw a number of eggs at my house and, I assume, at a number of others in the neighborhood. We also found that all my pumpkins had been smashed, and I have an eye witness account that the culprits behind these crimes was the same.
This is your just reward for your misdeeds. The costumes you now wear have no zippers, no buttons, no ties, no clasps, or any other means of removal. They are stuck to you like a second skin for the next twenty-four hours from the time you laid this egg. You should be very grateful tomorrow is Saturday and you will not suffer the embaressment of going to school. I suggest you find some way, now and in the future, to enjoy yourselves without ruining the property of others.
If I need to contact you again, I will send another egg.
Sincerely,
A friendly neighborhood Witch
Please do not try to cut yourselves out of the costumes. I worked very hard on this spell, and will not take kindly to attempts to break it.
Finally, in the deepest part of the bottom drawer I found a pair of old green scissors that I remembered Chris had in sixth grade. I hoped they would do. I jabbed the dull metal into the front of my foam costume, so stuffed and so full that there was no way I could stab myself. White stuffing immediately pushed from the open wound and I smiled for just half a second. And then the cut resealed itself before I could even reach up to tear at it.
“God damn it.” I said, readying a second stab.
“Wait, the letter says not . . .” Chris stopped. And I stopped. I don’t know how he knew. But I suddenly felt very, very strange. Not strange like like when the costume appeared. Strange like carbonated bubbles streaming up from the bottom of my toes all along his body to my head. And these imaginary bubbles started to change my body.
I felt his groin begin to shift and move on its own, and reached down with just in time to feel my penis shrank away into my body. My mouth went totally dry and I stared at Chris. I had to look up to do it because he was somehow taller than me. Not a lot, but it was noticeable. Long brunette hair mixed with costume vines fell in front of my face and grew down to my slimmer shoulders. My legs thinned and shortened, and suddenly looked very cute wrapped in green tights.
And then I felt something begin to grow on my chest. The change was completely invisible beneath the pumpkin suit. But I felt the change just the same. My breasts pushed and stretched outward and grew many times their original size. Slowly, I pushed my hand into the stuffing of my costume. And I felt them sitting on my chest.
“Boobs,” I whispered, looking at Chris with wide and terrified brown eyes. Eyes now with longer lashes and orange mascara. “I have boobs.”
“You’re a girl!” Chris jumped back, as if I carried an infectious and magical disease.
“Shut up!” I shouted back.
Chris looked down and felt along his body, hoping he would not change also. And he looked back at me with relief. “Oh, thank God,” he said. And it took just a second, but his eyes flicked down and he looked at my long, girlish legs: the only part of my body still oggle-able.
“Did you just stare at my legs!” I shouted. “You did! Stop that!” I flopped down into Chris’s computer chair and pulled my legs up to my stuffed body, pressing them against the foamy surface and wrapping my arms around them.
“It’s okay, Andy, it’s okay. The note on the egg said that the change . . . well, that the costumes are only stuck to us for a day.
“What did it say about being turned into a girl!” My voice came out high-pitched and worried.
“It didn’t. It just said not to try and cut the costumes off.”
“Oh God,” I whined, burying my face into the my costume and letting out a muffled scream. I really, really, shouldn’t have let Chris talk me into going out with him that night.