Speaking of anti-time, let me introduce to you my first new toy: The Youth Gun.

Hey kids, tired of that older sister giving you grief? Has your older brother bullied you one time too many? Well, do we have a solution for you. It’s The Youth Gun! Older people can be a real headache. Why not cut them down to size? With The Youth Gun, you can make anyone younger. Tired of being treated like a kid by older people. Show them how it feels. The Youth Gun, available this Christmas under a tree near you. (Warning: The Youth Gun is not recommended for use on parents, babysitters, or other essential caregivers.)

At my first stop, I dropped off one of these babies. There happened to be a naughty teen girl living there. I addressed the gun to her little sister. Obviously, if you want someone to get shot, you put the gun in the hands of their enemy. Then, I made sure the tag said “From: Santa” like every other tag I was using that night. Finally, I teleported it down under their tree. (Why bother doing all the lifting myself?)

I pulled out my Chrono-Viewer again to check how the toy will be received. Naturally, there’s a limit to how far into the future it can accurately see, but it would be able to see at least a few days ahead. That ought to be long enough to see if my toys were operating as expected.

A quick fast forward showed the little girl finding her gift. She put it off to the side for a while, not being particularly interested in a toy ray gun. Later, her sister was being a brat to her. The little girl tried out the gun on her sister secretly and watched as her big sister got littler. The little girl kept zapping her big sister until she had become her little sister. The poor, formerly big sister found herself suddenly on the wrong side of puberty and looking up at her formerly little sister.

The girl kept the gun a secret, but she was happy to share her hand-me-downs with her new little sister.

I decided to consider that a partial success. There was some damage done, but Santa did not get fingered for it.

The next few houses with the gun were variations on that the events of the first. Quite a few teenagers found themselves needing to borrow younger sibling’s clothes. Many tears were shed. Some even found themselves needing diapers. Santa did get blamed for a few of those messes.

Then, there was the story of poor little Billy. This one will be in the news, apparently.

***

Billy was a spoiled little 7-year-old brat. He was also an only child, so I gave the gun right to him.

Billy found the gun last out of all of his many presents. (I tried to bury my gifts under others. My hope was that they might get lost in the chaos as other gifts were opened.)

His mom asked, “Where did that come from?”

“‘From: Santa,’” Billy read off the tag slowly.

His mom looked at her sleepy husband. “I see…” she said. “Santa, right?”

“Wha?” Billy’s dad mumbled with half closed eyes.

Billy tore into my gift for him. “What does it say, Mom?” he asked, holding it up to her.

“‘The Youth Gun.’ That’s… interesting.”

“What does ‘Yoof’ mean?”

“It means, like, young, like being a kid.”

“Oh,” he said, not feeling particularly excited by it. He set it to the side and ran back to play with his other new toys.

Mom stood up and stretched. “Alright,” she said. “Let’s get things cleaned up for the party. The family will be here in a couple of hours.”

“Aw,” Billy whined. “But, I wanna play with my toys.”

“Can’t you just pick up the wrapping paper?”

He ignored her and kept playing.

“Billy.”

“No,” he said.

“Fine,” she said and started picking it up for him. “But, you are putting your old toys away before your relatives get here.”

Billy did not respond.

After she had all of the wrapping paper in her hands she nudged her husband’s foot to wake him up. “Steven,” she said.

“Beth?” he said. “Uh, what is it? Is it time for presents?”

His wife sighed. “It’s cleanup time. We need to get the snacks out and put the drinks on ice.”

“Oh,” her husband said as if he had just remembered something important.

She sighed again. “You forgot the drinks, didn’t you?”

“Sorry,” he said. “It took forever yesterday to find that silly action figure Billy had to have. You know what a monster he would be if he didn’t get it. I guess I forgot about the drinks.”

“Well, one of us has to go out and get them,” she stated, making it pretty clear which one of them was heading out into the cold to search for an open store.

“I’ll go get dressed,” he said and headed upstairs.

She headed for the kitchen, while Billy kept playing with his toys. Very soon, he started to get bored. His attention turned to The Youth Gun. He aimed it at a wall and pulled the trigger making a “pew” sound with his mouth. He was surprised to find that it made a soft hum all by itself. Then, he aimed it at a houseplant and pulled the trigger. To his amazement, it shrank into a smaller, younger plant.

“It got little,” he said.

Mom yelled from the kitchen, “Are you putting away your old toys yet?”

“No,” he said with obvious frustration in his voice. Then, an idea hit him. He knew who his next target would be.

Billy crept into the kitchen with the gun clutched in his little hands. He pointed at Mom and fired. Then, he rushed back behind a corner. When he peeked back into the kitchen he found that his Mom had not noticed anything. She still looked the same, though.

He tried the gun on her again, this time he held it for a few seconds. Although it was hard to tell for sure, he felt that she looked better now, less tired at least. For one thing, the wrinkles around her eyes were less noticeable.

Her phone rang, and she put down the veggies she was cutting to answer it. Billy aimed the gun at her again.

“So, did you find any place open yet?” she asked.

“Not yet,” her husband replied.

“Did you try the 24-hour Super Mart?”

“Closed.”

“Well maybe you could try the… oops!”

“What is it?”

“My pants almost fell down. That’s strange,” she said.

“That diet must be working.”

“Maybe,” she said. “I feel a bit funny, actually.”

“Well, I’ll be home soon after I’m done. Where did you think I should try?”

“Try the… gas station,” she said and then coughed to clear her throat.

“Are you alright?” he said. “Your voice sounds a bit strange all of a sudden.”

“I feel fine,” she said, but it was clear that her voice was unusually higher now. “I must be getting a bit of a sore throat.”

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll call again if the gas station is a bust. Bye.”

“Bye,” she said and coughed again. Something strange was going on.

She put down her phone, tightened the string on her pajama bottoms, and turned back to her veggies. There was the ping of metal hitting the floor below her. She bent down to find her wedding ring on the floor. She slid it back on her finger, but it fit strangely loose on her now. There was no way she had lost that much weight while dieting.

She walked to the bathroom mirror and gasped at her reflection. Staring back at her was a teenaged girl just on the far end of puberty. “Oh my God!” she said. “I look like a kid.” She touched her young face in disbelief. “How did this…?” she started to say, but stopped when she felt herself suddenly moving downwards as if she were falling. She braced herself against the sink, but the downward motion continued. When it stopped, her pants fell down to her feet. The whole room seemed bigger. There was the sound of something sliding down the sink, and she saw her wedding ring fall down the drain just before she could grab it. She looked at her reflection again, to see a flat-chested girl just on the cusp of puberty now. “No,” she said in a squeaky voice. “That’s impossible.”

She heard a giggle come from the hallway next to her and spun around to see Billy standing there, smiling.

“Billy,” she squeaked and pulled up her oversized pants. “Go back to your toys. Mommy’s having a bit of a problem. Don’t worry.” Billy did not move. It was then that she noticed the toy ray gun in his hand. The words “The Youth Gun” were clearly printed on its side. “Billy, did you just…?”

He lifted the gun and aimed it at her again.

“No!” she cried as he pulled the trigger again. She held up her hands defensively and shut her eyes as she felt that falling sensation once more. When it was over, her shirt felt far too loose on her and her pants had become comically large clown pants.

Billy was laughing gleefully.

She looked back at him and was horrified to realize that he was taller than her now.

“Billy,” she squeaked. Her voice sounded so babyish now. “What did you do?”

“I made you littler, of course,” Billy said. “Did you get dumber too?”

She fought back the growing terror inside of her and tried her best to take control of the situation. She held out her little hand. “Give me the gun,” she said carefully as if he were holding an actual pistol. “It’s not safe.”

“Nuh uh,” he said holding it high above his head. “It’s mine. Santa gave it to me. Anyways, I’m the big one now. You have to do what I say.”

She made a desperate leap for it, but Billy backed off just in time. Her pants dropped to the floor again. “Billy!” she cried, sounding like a whiney brat now. “Give it to me!”

“Go put away my toys,” Billy said as he gently pushed her back. “Then, maybe I’ll let you play with it. Maybe.”

“Billy, You have to turn me back, now. You can’t leave me like this,” she said as she gave up trying to take the gun from him. He was so much stronger and taller than her now. She became  so frustrated and scared that she almost felt like crying, but she maintained her composure.

“Clean up my mess first,” he said. “Be a good little girl.”

“I’m not a little girl,” she said. A tear dripped from her eye.

“Yeah you are. You’re a big crybaby even.”

“I’m not!” she shouted through the tears while stomping a foot.

Billy shook his head. “I don’t play with babies,” he said. “I’m going to my room. Clean up my toys, and maybe I’ll let you touch my gun.”

He walked away, and she just stood there sobbing. Then, she heard a sound that gave her hope again. The garage door had just opened. Her husband was home.

“Steven!” she called to him.

A minute later he entered the kitchen with cases of cola cans stacked in his arms. “Well,” he said without looking at her. “I got the drinks. We can party now.”

After setting the drinks down, he noticed a young girl crying in his kitchen. “Oh, hello,” he said. “Who are you?” He knelt down in front of her to be more on her level.

“Steven,” she said. “It’s me. It’s Beth!”

“Beth?” he said. “Oh? Are you one of Billy’s cousins?”

“I’m your wife!” she shouted.

“What?”

“That ray gun you bought Billy is real. It really made me younger.”

“This is a joke, right?” he said. “You and Beth are playing a prank? ‘Cause I know I didn’t buy any… ray gun.” He coughed. His voice had just cracked strangely.

“No!” the girl cried. “Run! Don’t let him hit you again!”

“What?” he said as he stood up. Then, he gasped as his jeans dropped to the floor. He pulled up his pants and looked back at the girl. She was shrinking right before his eyes. Every second she got smaller and younger, until there was nothing but a crying baby sitting on the floor in front of him. “Oh my god!” he cried and grabbed his throat after hearing the boyish sound of his voice. His Adam’s apple was missing under the smooth skin there.

It was then that he noticed Billy standing in the hallway aiming a toy ray gun at the baby. Billy pointed the gun back at him. He felt his body start to shrink and started running away immediately. He stumbled a bit as his shoes came off along with his pants. He ran bare assed through the dining room and back through living room, hounded by the sound of Billy’s laughter.

Then, Steven bounded up the stairs, which seemed far too tall now. He ducked into their bedroom and into their closet, quickly shutting the door behind him. He crawled behind a bag of old clothes and tried to quiet his breath.

He listened and heard footsteps calmly walking up the stairs. A baby was crying in the distance, his wife, he now realized. She had it even worse than he did. The footsteps passed his bedroom door and turned down the hallway to Billy’s room.

“Come out. Come out, wherever you are,” the boy said as if this were a simple game of hide and seek.

The footsteps grew closer then.

“Are you under the bed?” Billy asked. There was the sound of a hand on the floor. “Nope.”

Steven prayed his son would give up. He prayed for someone to save him.

Suddenly, the closet door flew open. “There you are,” Billy said. He held up the gun.

“Wait,” Steven said. “Wait a minute.” He sounded like such a kid now.

“Come out here,” Billy said waving with his gun.

Steven stood up with his hands held up in surrender and walked out of the closet. “Don’t shoot,” he said.

Billy pointed the gun at him again, but he did not fire. Steven noticed that they were both about the same height now. There might be a chance to wrestle the gun away from his son, he realized. He just had to wait for the right moment.

“I’m in charge now,” Billy said.

“That’s true, Billy,” Steven admitted. “You are in charge. You get to decide what to do next.”

“That’s right,” Billy said. He let the gun swing down to his hip.

Steven realized that this might be his last chance to reason with the boy. He would give it one more shot before trying to grab the gun. “You could keep playing with the gun, but if you do, we won’t be old enough to make you lunch… or dinner,” he said. “You’ll get really hungry. Do you want that?”

Billy thought for a moment. “I could order pizza,” he said. “Or, I could eat ice cream. I could eat all the ice cream, and no one could stop me.”

Billy was looking away from him now as he imagined all the foods he could have. Steven lunged for the gun, but he underestimated Billy’s grip. He could not wrestle it from the boy’s hand. Billy stepped back and pointed the gun at him. “It’s mine!” Billy shouted and pulled the trigger. Steven felt himself shrink as he lost his grip on the gun.

“Nooo!” Steven cried as he fell to his hands and knees and sank into his too large shirt until he was nothing more than a baby.

“Bad baby!” Billy said. “You two have been so naughty.” He set down the gun and picked up his baby Daddy, still wrapped in his T-shirt like a gown. Billy carried him downstairs to the living room and set the baby on the couch in the same place he had been sitting that morning. Then, he fetched his baby Mommy in her shirt and set her down next to him. They crawled to each other and held hands. They looked up at him fearfully. “Aw,” he said. “That’s so cute.” They tried to talk, but all that came out was babbling baby talk. “Heh,” Billy said. “You sound so funny now. Baba goo goo. Ha!”

Billy stood there a minute and realized that playing with them had become boring. Now, he was just watching a pair of babies. It was more fun when he was chasing Daddy, he decided. He went back upstairs and retrieved his gun.

“Alright,” he said to his baby parents when he had returned. “I’ll make you a bit older so we can play, but no grabbing the gun. You got it? Or, I’ll make you a baby again.”

He rotated the gun around in his hands, looking for a button or a switch that would make it grow people up again. He frowned. The only thing on the gun that seemed to move was the trigger. Feeling increasingly worried now, he grabbed the box for the gun and looked inside of it. There was nothing but cardboard packaging, no other attachments or instructions.

“How do I turn them back?” he asked himself.

He looked at the gun and back at the box again desperately. There was nothing.

“Oh no,” he said. He put the box down. “Oh no.” He put down the gun on the box and stepped away from it, suddenly feeling terrified of it. “Oh no.” He looked at the babies on the couch. “Mommy? Daddy?” he said. “Help me!”

His Mommy started to cry. Then, his Daddy started to cry. Then, Billy started to cry.

“I’m sorry!” Billy moaned. “I’m sorry!”

He crouched beneath the Christmas tree, surrounded by his many presents, and covered his face as he cried along with his baby parents.

And, that was how their relatives found them when their relatives arrived for the Christmas party.

***

Now, I can just hear you all saying, “Why the heck didn’t you add a way for someone to age back to normal with the youth gun?” That’s what my managers asked me, at least, after they told me that the gun was ridiculously dangerous.

Well, it wasn’t a mistake. I mean, I didn’t forget to add a reverse function to the gun. In fact, I specifically designed the gun that way with safety in mind. I get a lot of flack for ignoring potential safety hazards, but this was one case where I spotted a potential problem and avoided it.

Just imagine what would happen if kids found a gun that could make them grow into adults. They might get attacked by their parents. They might get arrested. They might even age to death. But, if the gun can only make people younger, then there is no chance for any of that to happen. In fact, the gun’s effects wear off all by themselves. Sure, it will take a long time for the effects to go away, years even, but everyone will eventually grow back to their normal ages. In fact, they will get an extension on their regular natural lives. A person could potentially live forever with one of those guns.

Granted, there are problems that could arise. Billy’s case is an example of how the gun might be dangerous if misused. And, yes, I do feel a bit bad for the boy. He was a brat, but he probably didn’t deserve that. Still, if his story will help wreck Christmas and ruin Santa, it will be worth it.

On to the next toy.