Danny held the spray canister up more confidently before him ... then he sprayed.
But he knew immediately that something went wrong. The first indication was Greg's smile. The second was his sudden coughing fit. No! He must have been holding the canister backwards like he had the first time he sprayed it.
From the shock and surprise, he dropped the spray canister to the floor and stumbled backwards. He couldn't believe this. He was trying to get back to normal. Now he was going to be even more of a Goth. A look of terror shot across his face ... but the more he felt himself change, the more that sense of terror left him.
He looked at himself in the corner office mirror. His hair had rearranged into a spiky blue mohawk and he was now wearing black lipstick. The strange thing, though, was that he kind of liked it. He actually thought it was a good look. A whole lot better than that mundane look he had before.
He looked down at his clothes, watching them morph into something else, but something similar. His fishnet shirt turned into a nylon shirt, his black leather pants turned into a black ankle-length leather skirt, and his boots seemed to change only slightly, now giving him a little height after receiving 3-inch stacks. There was a spiked bracelet on one wrist and a second spiked collar around his neck. Through his shirt, he could see a demonic-looking tattoo on his right arm and another smaller gothic-looking one on his left arm. He could also see through his shirt that his nipples now had piercings.
He thought all of this would freak him out. But it didn't. In fact, he kind of liked it. He felt so dark and rebellious ... and he loved it. No fucking way was he ever going back to his old shitty mundane life. That thought sparked a memory of his wife Carol. But he didn't remember her with fondness ... only disgust and indifference. He was thinking of getting a divorce and marrying a real woman. Maybe some punk rocker, someone who hated authority as much as he did, someone who didn't give a shit about anyone or anything except for whatever they wanted. Anarchy, he thought, with a smile. It sounded so good.
But then he paused. Is that what he really wanted? To divorce Carol? He loved her, didn't he? Yeah sure, she was so plain and nice and respectable. But (he smiled) he could change all of that. He could make her love the new him. He could make her Goth like him. He looked around for the spray canister that he dropped, but didn't see it. And after a few seconds, he gave up in a huff. Fuck it, he thought. It's easier just to find someone new.
And with that, he left the office.
"Leave him be, my dear," Greg told Jenny. "We have work to do."
"Yes, Master," Jenny replied.
