News Flash (musc AR)
by Aardvark
"Dude, get out of the way!"
It was a sentence Randall Robertson heard all the time on his daily walk home from work. He wanted to beat the crap out of the kid, to let him know that he had been voted most eligable bachelor of Oakville three years in a row, that women had thrown themselves at him, that he was the wildest partier in the city and that his reputation as a rebel only cemented his status as TV's hottest anchorman and vaulted him to the top.
But that was all 30 years ago. Now, Randall was sixty-two years old. He had about four hairs on his head, all of which were white. He had managed to stay at about 150 pounds, but his entire body was rather chubby. His face, once handsome, now had jowls and wrinkles from years of work and stress. His body had brown spots all over it. He hadn't worked out in years, and he was only too aware of how out-of-shape he was when he had to run home to avoid the falling snow. His company's annual Christmas party was tonight.
Ugh. His company. He hated his work now. When his ego had gotten too big, he quit, thinking everyone would want him. He quickly discovered no one did. Not being able to find any place to work, his boss accepted him back but gave him a position as cameraman, and that's what he'd been doing ten whole years. He couldn't wait to retire.
His key entered the lock and turned, and his posh apartment welcomed him. He had a pretty nice digs for a cameraman, but his salary when he was big was quite sizable and he'd had several relatives leave him good-sized inheritances. You could say Randall was well off, giving him even less of an excuse for his laziness.
That's when he saw the ring. It was solid gold, it seemed. He picked it up and tried it on, and it was just his size. Attached to it was a card. It read:
"Thank you for the lovely dinner. I enjoyed myself immensely. I hope this ring gives you as much joy as it has me. Enjoy it! - Love, Susan Wright."
Ah, Susan was a lovely woman. A bit of a prima donna, but thoughtful. She was probably a good thirty years younger than he was, but she was very sweet. She also held the key to his employment. She was an anchorwoman, and she did most of the interviews for the company. If she didn't like him, he was gone.
Two hours later, dressed in a nice suit and showered and shaved, Randall walked to the company, two blocks from his home. Christmas lights and wreaths adorned the archways, and mistletoe hung above the door. Cheer abounded everywhere. The ring was on his finger, as well.
Randall walked in without much ceremony, and greeted and shook hands with many people. Sipping punch, he suddenly felt a bit woozy.
"Feeling alright, Randy?" Jackson Kappelman, the manager of the company, inquired.
"Yes.. yeah... I'm--I'm fine." At that moment, Randall stumbled and grabbed onto the table, the room spinning.
"Seriously Randy, are you okay? You look pale."
Randall barely heard him. The entire room was blending together, voices in one big chorus of noise. He stumbled and groped his way down the lobby to the men's bathroom around the corner. He barely made it to the porcelain throne, and when he arrived, he bestowed seven or eight offerings upon it.
Feeling much better, he got up and walked out. Voices from the crowd cried out, "Hey, Randall! How's the diet treatin' ya?"
"Diet? What diet?" Randall thought silently to himself as he surveyed the room, ignoring the question. "Mercy, it's hot in here," he thought. He took off his tie, put it in his jacket pocket and unbuttoned the first two buttons on his shirt.
"Randall, have you been using Rogaine?" inquired Marcy. She was new to the company and had a reputation for being nosey.
"No." Randall bluntly answered her question and walked away.
That's when he looked in the mirror. Maybe he HAD been using Rogaine, in his sleep or something, because now there was thick white hair on both sides of his head. Still bald on top, though. Panic set in, and he ran back to the bathroom.
"Okay...okay. There's some explanation to--Ow!"
His waist was sinched up tight against his pants. He loosened his belt - and watched, in horror, as it expanded and grew. He looked at his chest, revealed by the open silk shirt. The grey chest hair on it changed to a dark chestnut brown, and then vanished all together, revealing a pair of muscular pecs. His nipples pushed up against the shirt as it slowly began to fit him better. He looked at his hands, the spots began to disappear, and brown hair began to appear. As he watched, they became smooth and toned and muscular.
"What's haaappenninnn---" Suddenly he realized his voice was deeper and richer, not coarse and rough like before. He looked up. His shiny head began to grow thick hair, and the hair on the sides turned brown and thickened as well. His hair was gorgeous--thick and shiny and wavy, slicked back with just the right amount of gel. As he watched, his face began to change. His skin became tighter and smoother. His grey eyebrows thickened and became heavy, bringing attention to his beautiful green eyes. The jowls and wrinkles smoothed out and disappeared, a light five o'clock shadow appeared on his cheeks and chin, and there, standing before the mirror, was a twenty-five year old version of Randall Robertson.
"Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no."
He looked down at his hand. The ring had vanished.
He quielty opened the door and sneaked out. He was about to turn the corner when someone stepped into his path.
"Hello, Randall." It was Susan.
He whirled around. "How did you know..."
"Know? Ha! I did this to you." She reached into her bosom, and on a chain, pulled out the ring. "This is permanent, Randall. You're going to be twenty-five forever. Just like me."
"You... you did this to me... why...I --" He was fighting something. His brain was becoming more accepting of his change, not having any problem with it. Suddenly Susan became more attractive and beautiful. His hormones raged and he planted a passionate kiss on her.
"Oh Randall! I love you! I will always love you!" They kissed again and again, over and over. By now Randall had completely forgotten the change. All he wanted was Susan, and all she wanted was him. This gorgeous, brawny, muscular hunk of a man.
The two walked out on the dance floor and danced the night away. Two days later, they were married. And Randall had the perfect life, as he deserved.
END