Right now, somewhere in the world there is a mad scientist working diligently in his lab, he's working for you. And you know what he's interested in, don't you, and you know what he wants to do. And of course he knows your address, he knows it because he's taken a very special interest in you. He's been watching you, very closely. He's been monitoring your dreams and all aspects of your miserable life. He knows how you feel that you haven't lived up to the expectations that everybody had for you. He knows you consider yourself, deep down, to have achieved little if any of what you wanted to do. So he has decided to help you out...
Tomorrow you're going to wake up as normal turn over and punch the pillow like you always do. You'll get out of bed and make a cup of tea and eat some toast. When you leaf through the post you'll find a strange envelope with writing that you don't recognise. When you open in you'll find another envelope with the same distinctive script on it.
It will say: "Use this on the women in your life."
Inside there will be some pills, and you will instinctively know what they are and what they will do, because you'll remember something you read on the internet the previous day.
You'll get dressed and go to work, a spring will be in your step, almost like expectation.
At the entrance to the office where you work the receptionist will smile and will say "Lovely day, pity to have to come to work." This is what she says every single day, whether it is sunny, overcast, raining or snowing. You will nod and walk past with your usual chirpy "morning", you never say good morning, because you never feel that it is.
You will go to the assignment board wondering what job you'll have to do today. The board will tell you that you have to cover the opening of a fete. You can think of nothing more tedious. But if she has given you the assignment then there's nothing left to do.
You'll go to your desk, log on, skim through your e-mail and surreptiously surf the 'net. You have to be quick because you know that everything is monitored. You scan your favourite sites but you find nothing of particular interest, then you will notice a shadow cross your screen. You will turn and see her, your boss.
You will turn and smile at her steely eyes, at her grey skin and at her flat chest. That reminds you of the pills that are in your jacket pocket. And as she rebukes you in front of everyone you won't really hear her, you'll just be thinking of the pills.
She'll tell you to follow her to her office. You'll ask if she'd like a drink from the vending machine. She'll look over her shoulder with that look that tells you she thinks you're trying to curry favour with her, and she will say yes, but in a way that lets you know she's not going to let you off the hook.
On the way from the coffee machine to the dragon's inner sanctum you'll drop a couple of pills into her drink. You know it's dangerous, not knowing precisely what the pills will do, you'll think they have something to do with the mad scientist, but you won't know until she drinks some.
When she does she will complain of the heat. The desk fan will be put on, even though you will feel that it isn't particularly warm. You'll see her chest, the flat chest under the blouse will heave forwards. You'll be captivated by it and not listen to a word she will say. But she will stop speaking abruptly, and her hands will reach out to her massively inflating breasts. Surging forward towards you.
Faster and faster they'll expand, larger and larger she'll grow. Until you decide to leave, you're not sure if you should have put in two and are unsure of the consequential growth. Behind you she will be crying out, everyone in the office will be milling around outside looking in. You'll hear some pings as though some small plastic discs have struck some glass and you'll know what they are.
Then you'll go to the post room, where the girl with whom you've been flirting works. She'll be there and will smile you prop yourself at the doorway. Then she'll come across to you and tell you that your posts in your pigeon hole. You'll say something like you were wondering about her pigeon hole, because you'll suddenly feel all horny and as though nothing can harm you. Afterwards you'll think that it's a little like paranoia, or that first rush of speed in the nightclub. But then you'll look at her, into her eyes and the smile that was once there will have gone.
She'll move away from you and you'll realise that she doesn't want to flirt with you today. And you'll start to wonder why. In a moment you'll remember that you saw her talking to one of the other reporters, and you'll feel full of rage. You'll want revenge. Still you will have the pills.
When her back is towards you, you'll move quickly over to her drink, which will still be steaming and you'll drop two in, then you'll think better of it and put in another two. You will watch as she drinks her coffee and smile. She will smile back at you. But her expression will alter. She will suddenly grow very hot. Under the reasonably loose uniform you will see that the flesh of her breasts will be growing. Expanding like balloons, but they will be filling with corporeal, fleshy material rather than air. And as she screeches you'll continue to smile. As the weight of her tits become too much for her to endure she will fall to the floor. She will look at you, wordlessly trying to appeal to you. You hope that the dosage you will have given her will ensure she never leaves the post room, and she'll never talk to anyone other than you again.
You will leave without saying goodbye.
You will look around at the offices, at the stupid green carpet, at the desks and at the stupid chairs. You'll know that this is all just so tremendously stupid. Then people will start to look at you, and you'll conclude that you weren't thinking, you were talking. You will then smile at them and nod as though it is something that you do everyday. Then you'll walk away.
As you pass the water butt you'll get another idea...
In the car park you will look at the number of pills that there are left in the packet, you'll estimate it at about one hundred. Too many for the few women you know. It is then that you realise what the mad scientist really meant.
And you along with all of the other men who logged on to the site will drive, with their packets of pills to the reservoir.
As you will drive you'll be whistling and feel very happy.
Afterwards you will remember nothing.
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You will now wake up but will remember nothing until the alarm clock rings tomorrow.