From: zed@silver.lcs.mit.edu (Edward Lopez)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: morph
Summary: I saw a great need
Date: 29 Jul 92 19:58:09 GMT
Organization: Liars for Truth

He connected to netcom from home and skimmed his mail, chuckling over
the hate mail and some newbies who'd taken his bait. Then he read
news, skipping to talk.bizarre where he read only those articles the
newsreader automatically selected, chiefly those mentioning him. He
laughed aloud at some of his imitators -- they'd never get the joke.

Moving to alt.sex, he skimmed for an article he could ascribe to his
latest target, figuring he could move on to soc.culture.islam or the
K12 groups for more material later. Choosing a likely post, he typed
the false attribution and began to edit.

  >I'd like to ask for some advice about life-size inflatable dolls. The
  >last life-size inflatable doll I used broke on me -- I need a better
  >brand!

He was about to conclude M-x REPLACE-STRING CONDOM LIFE-SIZE
INFLATABLE DOLL when it instead occurred to him to add some more.

  The rip was in her left side, above her full hips -- the process had
  been done cheaply. She began changing back, her head, limbs, torso
  fleshing out. The rip became a wound, which bled profusely.

  She rose, leaning on her elbows, staring at it. "I hate this job,"
  she said, gazing at me accusatorily and briefly before she
  collapsed, a trickle of blood running from her mouth.

  I resolved to change suppliers.

Strange twist it had taken, but this thought was lost as a
hundred-word vignette occurred to him. He'd cross Rapunzel with
Medusa, and portray this castellan luring another suitor, then
strangling him with her hair as he climbed.

'Castellan?' he thought. It was only then he noticed his hands --
differently shaped, paler. He looked down and his clothes hung a
little loosely.

It was with a sickening sense of expectation that he went to the
mirror, stumbling as if unaccustomed to his own mass, and so it was
horror without surprise that greeted him. His brown curly hair had
turned dirty blond and slightly wavy. He was shorter, of stockier
build. He felt some eyestrain as he stared -- contacts with the wrong
prescription, he realized.

A sense of panic mounted; he fought to stay calm. Walking to the
kitchen, already becoming used to his new stride, he poured himself
some fruit juice and got out one of the gourmet brownies Bonnie had
brought home. Bonnie -- what would he say to her?

He noted some trepidation as he bit into the brownie, but dismissed it
-- he hadn't worried much about calories since he started working out,
and vegetarians needn't worry much about fat intake anyway. Chiefly he
was troubled that he was growing unclear as to who was the vegetarian
and who had been working out.

Returning to the computer, he aborted the article and wondered how he
could most quickly reach his alter ego, to see what had become of him.
He wondered if the information would drift into his memory, as his
thoughts, his internal voice, seemed to be further changing with every
minute.

It was only ten minutes later when the seizure began that he
remembered one of the significant ramifications of his change. Of
course it was too late.

-- 
zed@silver.lcs.mit.edu     Metaphysical Help: $.05         The Philosopher Is