"You alright, Jon?" Jon heard his father's voice. He peeled his eyes from his approaching, ridiculously hot mother, and found his father standing in the doorway from the kitchen, a cup of coffee in his hand.
"Um, yeah," he said from the floor, "Just tripped on the vacuum cord."
"Well, you'd better let your mother check you out," Jon's father said, crossing the room, passing the roaring fireplace, the heart-shaped bed, and the Victoria's Secret model of a wife now seductively approaching his son, "if you don't, you know you'll never hear the end of it."
Jon knew his mother was a bit of a helicopter parent, or at least the previous version of his mother was. As he watched his father head up the stairs, leaving him alone with the new, extremely sexy matron, he wondered how the Sexiness Remote had translated that trait.
"First thing's first," the lingerie-clad woman breathed as she bent down to hold Jon's hand, "Let's get you on the bed so that I can take a good look at you."
Jon let himself be led by the woman, her scent filling his nostrils. He was having a difficult time reminding himself that this was the woman who had given birth to him. Or was it? Had reality changed so that she was no longer his birth mother? She couldn't possibly be more than eighteen, after all. Was she some sort of step-mother?
He paused in front of the bed, then turned to leave. This was ludicrous. He couldn't allow this charade to continue! He needed to use the remote and fix this! It was only then that Jon realized that he was no longer holding the remote. He must have dropped it when he fell! His eyes scanned the floor, but couldn't locate the device. It was there somewhere, he knew it, but it must have slid underneath something.
Before he could search, though, this version of his mother stepped up to him, put her hands on his shoulders, and pushed him backward onto the bed.
"Now," she breathed again, stepping up and straddling his body, "why don't you tell mommy where it hurts."
