A simple in-and-out robbery, that’s what it was supposed to be. I mean, the factory was abandoned! Let me back up a bit. To start, my name is Sillynose. No, wait, it’s Sillynose! Silly…nose… Damnit! I can’t even write my real name. Well, whatever.

 

In the words of Robert Lewis Stevenson, “every man is two men”, and I was no exception. By day, I was a very successful businesswoman who had it all: I was on the board of directors, decide my own salary, abuse my staff all I liked and none of them had the money necessary to sue me. But by night, I engaged in other pleasures, a burglar who stole things for fun. Well, I heard that a FunWall Factory had recently shut down and I wanted to swipe some technology before it was all taken away.

 

I should have paid more attention to my surroundings because the factory was an absolute maze of bright, colorful machines that looked more like they belonged at Disney World. With different giant machines moving around, I couldn’t tell where anything was and soon became lost. If I knew where the exits were, I might have avoided what came next: a machine the size of a shipping container and looked like a cross between a washing machine and a slot machine…Well, it must have had some kind of security feature because it stood up on these robot legs, sprouted arms and threw me in its washing machine mouth!

  

I was in total darkness for only a brief moment before multicolored lights began to spin around me like some kind of sickening rave party. Robot arms grabbed me and started pushing and pulling on various parts of my body. I tried to fight them off, but the arms were too strong! I heard my clothes tear and felt something like a wet, steamy pillow being pressed into my face for a brief but frightening moment. Then some kind of mist, it may have been orange but it was hard to tell due to the flashing, spinning lights, was pumped into the room with a faint hiss. I tried to hold my breath, but the machine kept blasting the mist until I breathed it in, hoping it wasn’t poisonous.

   

After all that, it suddenly stopped. I was then thrown out of the machine and landed on the hard floor. My body felt weird, it was like my proportions were all wrong. I didn’t pay any attention to this as I ran away, until I returned back home and saw what I looked like.

  

A clown, with a big goofy grin and giant exposed breasts, stared back at me in the bathroom mirror. I recoiled in shock and the clown girl did so too, her nipples, each about the size of a shot glass, turning a pale yellow like a Pina colada. But the clown’s face never changed expression. With fear, I touched my face. The clown did too, her nipples turning a more regular shade of yellow. Looking down at my body, my worst fears were confirmed as I was greeted with breasts much bigger than my old ones, with bright yellow nipples. It wasn’t just the breasts either: my feet had doubled in length too, making walking very difficult, as though I was wearing flippers. The only thing I had on was a sort of white ruffled tutu with different colors at the edge, held up with white suspenders decorated with multicolor dots.

 

Over the next hour, I examined my body and figured out all the changes that had happened to me. Not only were my breasts each made as large as a pregnant woman's belly, but my ass was as well. When squeezed, my breasts honked like a bike horn and when my butt was squeezed or sat on, it made a sound like a whoopee cushion (thankfully, not with actual gas). My face was stuck in that stupid grin and I drooled like an idiot. To compensate, I guess, my nipples changed color to reflect my mood. Red for anger, blue for sadness, et cetera. My tutu suspenders could be removed but my makeup and clown nose could not. I couldn’t wear anything that covered my breasts not only because nothing would fit, but because I would feel this sharp, shooting pain in my breasts every time I tried.

 

Figuring I could deal with it in the morning, I went to sleep, not having the most restful night due to all the honks and whoopee cushion noises my body made as I tossed and turned. The next morning, I tried to call in sick.

“Hi!” Was all I managed to get out before I recoiled in shock yet again: not only did my voice sound incredibly cheerful, as though that forced smile affected how I spoke as well, but my voice was high and squeaky as if I had inhaled a lot of helium.

“This is Sillynose! I’m not feeling too well so I won’t be able to come into the office today.” I sang into the phone, as though I had good news to share.

“I’m sorry, what is the name again?” My secretary asked, clearly confused.

“It’s me, you idiot! Sillynose! My sickness just changed my voice. Honestly… I should have hired a woman for this job.” I squealed “joyfully”. Apparently, I couldn’t say my real name.

“Wait, is that you ma’am? You sound…different. Cheerful.”

My nipples went bright red with anger.

 

No matter what, I couldn’t avoid work forever. I eventually had to return to the office despite my "condition", and try to continue on as normal. My employees stared at me as I stumbled throughout the office, my breasts, and ass dancing every which way. I had to hold board meetings with my chest exposed and greet potential business partners as “Sillynose”. It was a punishment of my own making, but the whole time, I had to go through it with a smile on my face