"In a day, you'll be back to normal," Jon said over the phone. "Everyone will. I swear."
"Good," replied Karyn. "Because I don't want to spend the rest of my life as a Goth."
"A Goth? Is that what you turned into?"
"You didn't know?"
"The effect of the wish was random." Jon paused for a moment. "What's it like?"
"What am I? Your lab rat?"
"I didn't mean it like that," Jon said.
"Yeah, well, just leave me the fuck alone anyway."
"What did you say?"
"Fuck off," she said angrily, then hung up the phone and tossed it aside. She continued to look at herself in the mirror. Black-dyed hair, pale skin, black make-up, piercings, black corset (which made her already too-large breasts look even bigger), black leather miniskirt, fishnet stockings, and black knee-high buckled boots with three-inch stacks. She looked quite a bit like Jon's sister Zoe, actually. She never got along with Zoe, or any of her friends. But she had a feeling that that may change, now since she was more like them. Yes, she still retained her original memories and didn't possess any new ones, but she felt like this was normal, the way things should be, even though she knew better. It was the reason she went off on Jon like that. Maybe he didn't know that the stone was different, but it still pissed her off to know that Jon would make a wish like that without first consulting her. She was supposed to be his friend after all.
She looked at a photo that used to be of herself and Jon, but was now of herself (looking totally gothic) and ... Randy Goodman? She almost laughed at the totally Goth version of the former jock. He must have been going out of his mind right about now. Especially since he didn't know how any of this could happen. Not that knowing made Karyn feel any better, though.
Randy Goodman was jacking off to one of his porn videos (something he ritually did every morning) when suddenly he was hit with a wave of disorientation. And when it was over, loud heavy metal music blared all around him.
"What the hell?" he asked aloud. He looked down at himself and saw that he was no longer naked. Instead, he was wearing what looked like a fishnet shirt and a long black leather skirt. On his feet were black buckled boots. He looked like one of those freaks he picked on at school.
Randy swung out of bed and stood up. Where the hell was that music coming from? He looked around the darkened room until he found a stereo that wasn't there before. After fumbling around with it, he managed to shut it off. "Finally!" he exclaimed. Then he turned around and turned on the light switch.
He immediately felt revulsion at what he saw. His entire room was different. Black walls, black curtains, black furniture. Just black, black, or more black. He turned and looked at himself in his mirror and got another shock. Not only was he dressed as one of those freaks, he also looked like one of them. He was still himself, it was still his face, but all of his muscles were severely underdeveloped. He was lanky and he was pale. No way could he ever play football again, not like this. He walked closer to the mirror and saw that there was black eyeliner around his eyes and yes, that was definitely black lipstick on his lips and black polish on his nails. He reached up and felt the spiked collar that was around his neck and the piercings that were in his ears and nose. Then he moved his hand up higher and felt his black spiky hair.
How the hell could any of this be happening?
