Funhouse pt. 1

All Is Fun in a Funhouse

by *inflatedmuscle

ALL IS FUN IN A FUNHOUSE

Mitchell Huston and Cameron Lee had come back to their hometown to spend a long weekend with their buddies. It was cool already for fall. The four guys were sitting round the back end of Mitch’s Colorado sipping beer in the woods where they used to camp while growing up. All were now in their early twenties but hadn’t gotten together like this for well over a year. The guys were having a good time.

The four had been solid members of the jock crowd growing up and had been team mates on most every team available to them in their small town over the years. The high light had been going to state in football their senior year. The boys never got together without laughing about that last season. After graduation Cam and Mitch had gone to college where Mitch had played a year of football before giving it up. He had put his efforts into the weight room since. In the passing years the man had built his 185 pound jock body into a seriously muscled 235 pounds. The quiet man enjoyed his trips home as everybody noticed the change. He was stopped frequently while people made comments about the change in him, which Mitch enjoyed though few could imagine by his blasé reaction. The biggest response from the big man might be a shy grin or tilt of the head but the big man was enjoying every word. Cam had spent as much time throwing iron around as his bodybuilding pal and certainly had a muscled build to show for it but his tight waist and thick chest and arms didn’t quite carry the same impact as Mitch’s 50 pounds of mass. In Shreveport Indiana, people just weren’t built like that.

The group was laughing as they shot the shit. There had been some discussion as to whether they should build a campfire to ward off the early evening chill but no one had made a move. Cam got up to pull another beer from the cooler. ‘Boomer’ Morgan said, “grab me one too.”

It had been so long since “Boomer” had been called by his real name that most people had forgotten what it was if they had ever known in the first place. The man was about 5’6” tall but had had a thick easily muscled build that back in his school days all the other’s had envied. Back then they had looked up to Boomer and his jacked 190 pound frame. No matter what the kid did it seemed his muscles swelled bigger by the day. The short stud had been the cock of the walk in those days as all either verbally or secretly wished to be built like the bull. The intervening years had softened his build as the man slipped into an ex-jock mold. Still beefy and broad shouldered, Boomer had lost that hard muscle look. Few could miss the beer gut that had overtaken his prized thick six-pack.

Cam tossed beers to the others. He tapped one against the leather covered shoulder of Chris Smith. The man reached up and took it but said, “I don’t know if I need another. I ought to be going.” Chris sat on his motorcycle with his helmet between his legs as he listened to his buddies laugh and joke.

“No fucking way, dude. We never get together. You are not bailing on us.” Boomer glanced down at his watch. “It’s not even 8:30! No fucking way!” He glanced over at his pals leaning against the tail gate. “Can you believe this shit?”

Chris grinned as he glanced down at the new Victory he sat on; all chrome and shiny paint and his pride and joy. He pushed his shoulder length hair back over his left ear. His deep voice croaked, “Yeah… It’s just that I got this bitch…”

“Yeah…yeah…yeah and it’s probably your third one today. You can dip your pod after we leave town, stud. It’s not like your dick will swell up like a third leg and pop if you don’t get laid every six hours on the dot. ”

“Bros before hos”, Boomer added.

Chris was the only one of the group to skip college and stay home. He worked as a mechanic. Of the four Chris had always had a bit of a bad boy image that had made him a ‘pussy magnet’ as Cam liked to put it. Rugged good looks and a lean muscled body that seemed to need no effort to maintain hadn’t hurt the man’s prospects. Despite his slacker look at the big picture, the guys all sort of envied Chris. He lived alone in the ancient trailer on the edge of town. He loved his job and was great at it. He had enough money to afford and rebuild a classic Mustang and two motorcycles. Not to forget more girls then the rest of them had ever touched all pooled together- what was there not to envy? They always had trouble tracking Chris down and getting him to join them on their rare outings; no one wanted him to leave so soon.

The biker tossed his leg over the bike and stood up as he popped the tab on the beer. “All right. I guess one more won’t hurt but seriously you should see this bitch. She’s something like 38 years old but… well let’s just say those 38 years have been put to good use.” The biker lowered himself onto a large rock and stretched his long legs out as the others chuckled and hooted as he hinted at his latest. That’s about as far as Chris would ever go – hinting. If the guys got quizzing him too much or someone would start bragging about their latest conquest, he would just clam up. Chris was of the mindset that guys who spent too much time talking pussy weren’t likely the ones getting pussy. The handsome man generally would just grin when the subject came up on the rare occasions they could track him down. The look on the man’s handsome face tonight said that the subject was closed.

Boomer glanced over at the two weight lifting buddies leaning against the tailgate. He was blown away by the fifty pounds of muscle Mitch had packed on. He had heard stories of the man’s change but had never put much faith in them until the stud had walked up to his door looking like a full-fledged bodybuilder. Mitch had on a sleeveless UA shirt on with a tank over it. The man’s upper body was completely jacked: wide back, thick traps that had to be as wide as his shoulders had been back in his football days; huge chest and a tight waist that was creased with thick abs. He wore baggy cotton training pants that did little to mask his huge legs. The man’s thighs were massive and the material caught over calves that easily matched the mass of his upper legs. Mitch’s arms were packed with muscle and had to be over 20” around. Mitch had always been muscled but in school his arms might have been 16…17” around. They looked huge now.

Boomer got up and stepped up to his old pal. “Look at these bastards.” He wrapped his thick fingers around the bodybuilder’s upper arm and squeezed.

Mitch grinned and straightened his arm. He closed his hand into a fist and twisted his arm as his muscles tightened. He was proud of his accomplishments. His buddy poked and squeezed his hard muscles as he flexed.

“How big are these puppies?”

“Got up to 21.5” this winter but are down now. Maybe 20” or a bit less.”

Cam sputtered and mumbled into his beer can, “Listen to him. Trust me; he knows exactly what his measurements are down to a sixteenth of an inch at any given moment. Don’t let him fool ya with ‘maybe this; maybe that’ bullshit.”

Mitch glanced over at his pal with a grin and elbowed him in the side. “That’s enough out of you tiny.”

Cam was easily over 200 with a body fat percentage of less than 10%. Few would call him tiny but next to his jacked pal he came up lacking. The good natured jock tossed his empty beer can to the ground in mock anger as he turned to face his best friend. He tapped his own thick pecs that stood out plainly under his long sleeved t-shirt while cocking his head to one side, “Who you calling tiny, lard ass?”

The other’s chuckled as Mitch stepped away from the tailgate and pressed his chest into Cam’s. He glanced down at his 53” chest before looking at him with one eye raised in disbelief. He made his pecs bounce, “I guess that would be me calling you tiny…tiny.” He poked a thick finger into his pal’s chest for emphasis.

Cam in a flash grabbed Mitch by his bull neck and bent him forward as they began to wrestle. Didn’t take long before Mitch had the smaller man bent over as he held him close by the neck with his right hand as he squeezed Cam’s neck in the bend of his muscled arm as he flexed his left bicep while saying, “Feel that power, tiny.” The others laughed and made catcalls as Mitch shoved him away.

Chris chuckled as his deep voice added, “You been owned little man.

Cam bounced back and forth from one foot to the other like a boxer as he patted his chest, “Taint nothing…taint nothing.”

Mitch was waddling on thick legs as he handed fresh beers to Boomer and Chris before he glanced back at his training partner with mock distain.

“Hey Smithy, why don’t you gather up some firewood and make us a fire?” Boomer suggested as he rubbed his hands together. The biker was the only one of the group dressed for the cool temps and that was because he rode his bike out. Chris was the last in the area to put his bike away for winter and it usually wasn’t until there had been a snow or two. It was nothing to see him buzz past suited up like an arctic explorer in early December.

The biker had been looking down at the ground as he rubbed a hand over his thick goatee and five o’clock shadow. Even in junior high the stud had been hairy and shaved twice a day. Chris glanced up at his pals who stood in shirtsleeves as fog began to appear at their mouths. He took a tug at the beer in his hand. “I ain’t cold. You would think you boys would know to dress for the weather by now.” The man wore a worn one piece leather motorcycle suit. The black leather suit with white strips accentuated his thick build and tight waist while the pads in the shoulders gave him a look that nearly rivaled Mitch’s overblown muscles. Through the open zipper the thick shirt he wore clung to him meaty pecs and thick abs that he had sported even at 15. The years had only thickened his muscles. He stood up and stretched his back to the sound of leather straining and popping joints.

Cam smirked, “Not only do you dress for the weather but you look so fetching on gear night at the gay bar.”

Chris raised a thick leg and slapped his bubbled ass. “Yeah well you can kiss my ass, lippy. Build your own fire boys, I got plans but it’s been good to see ya as always. Enjoy your camp out.” Chris dropped his leg over his bike and pulled his helmet into his crotch as he turned the key grinning at his old friends. The bike rumbled to life as the man pulled his gloves from his helmet and pulled them on.

In a flash Boomer grabbed the keys, shutting down the engine and pulled them out of the ignition. “You ain’t going anywhere stud. Attendance is mandatory at this reunion.”

“Dude, was that supposed to be funny? That ain’t funny. Now give me my keys.” The tough guy sat on his bike and held a thick hand out

Boomer tossed them to Mitch and held up empty hands. Chris got off the bike and started to approach the bodybuilder laughing. Mitch reached out and tossed them to Cam who was on the opposite side of the truck digging for another beer in the cooler.

The biker mumbled with a grin, “You guys are fucking hilarious.” He turned course and started toward Cam.

The beefy biker grinned at the man, “Now we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your choice?” He bent forward chuckling as if he were ready to wrestle Cam.

Cam looked at the keys in his hand and to everyone’s amazement tossed them over his shoulder into the woods.

The leather covered biker jumped forward trying to push past the muscled man as he watched his keys disappear into the night. Even Mitch jumped forward trying to catch them.

Chris barked, “My keys!” He was shocked

Mitch pushed his way between the two men. “Fuck man, why did you do that?”

Cam seemed amazed that anyone would have to question something so obvious. “Shit we get together once in three fucking years. What’s the big deal? When the sun comes up we will find the keys but for now we’re gonna have some fun. So relax. Let’s get that fire started.”

Chris held the side of the truck with both hands as he faced away from the two. His face was beat red. In a flash the man turned and stepped up to Cam. “You always were an asshole.”

“I’m the asshole. You’re the one who’s is too good…”

Mitch broke in, “Come on guys. Let’s just have some beer and a few laughs. We’re all friends here.”

The two men were nose to nose now talking at the same time. If history was any example fists might fly in seconds. The big man pushed the two apart as he tried to defuse the situation.

Boomer broke in, “Shut up and listen.” He stood away from the group and was zipping up his fly after taking a piss. “Hey shut up. What is that?”

The other three turned to him and stopped talking, clueless. Faintly music could be heard coming from the timber. It sounded like circus music.

“So what? There’s a carnival somewhere.” Cam mumbled. He shouldered past the other two and dropped down on a rock as he opened his beer. “You want to go ride the merry go round?”

Mitch opened the truck door and started rummaging around the crew cab for extra clothes. He pulled out a fleece and smelled it before tossing it to Cam. He then reached back and grabbed a white down vest as he reached a thick arm back to put it on, Boomer stepped up and took a hold of it. “Thanks, I’m freezing.” The short man slipped it on leaving the muscled man empty handed as Boomer continued, “Nah, that’s just it. Town is back there.” He pointed in the opposite direction of the noise. “We’re in a 500 acre timber on the edge of a state park. There is nothing out there but trees.”

Mitch pulled out a hoodie inside a short jean jacket and slipped them on. He pulled a knit cap from the pocket and pulled it on. “He’s right. You’d go fifteen miles in that direction before you ‘d find anything.” The short tight coat only highlighted how broad and thick his upper body was.

The men stood and listened. “Sounds like an ice cream truck.” Cam said.

“An ice cream truck in the woods in October? Yeah right.”

Chris tapped the sides of the truck. “Well it sounds like a ride back to town to me. A carnival or ice cream truck is gonna be near people in cars so I’m gonna hitch a ride. Later studs.”

The others jumped up amazed that the man would take off into the woods after dark. They all called for him to stop but in no time the leather clad biker had jogged down the hill before him and jumped the creek.

“Hey come on Chris. Come back.” The big man started after him.

Boomer gave Cam a look that said, ‘see what you did,’ before he followed. Cam sat for minute before he got up and stuffed his pockets of Mitch’s fleece with cans of beer and followed the others.

By the time the last two caught up, Mitch had stopped the biker half way up the opposite bank. The muscled man was trying to talk him into going back to the truck or at least convince him of the foolishness of hiking through the woods after dark. The others echoed his statements. The music was louder.

Chris just shook his head looking down, “When did you guys become such pussies?” The man was off again as he climbed up the crest of the hill.

“Let him go, screw him.” Cam said. All the beer he had consumed was taking a toll. Hiking was just too much work.

The other two glanced at him before they followed Chris.

The carnival music was louder as they reached the top of the hill. Chris was a couple yards down the other side. “How in the hell did that get there?”

The men stood and looked at what appeared to be a carnival funhouse. It was hemmed in by trees all around. Some big ones trunks were even growing under the edge of the trailer that was a staple at county fairs. There were faint lights blinking off and on, illuminating it. The only way it could have gotten wedged in amongst the mature trees was to fall from the sky. There were no roads or trails even leading up to it. The men were amazed at the find.

“What the fuck?” Boomer mumbled.

“Let’s check it out.” Chris was off before he had finished the statement.

It took a good ten minutes to hike down into the valley. The music got louder the closer they got. The four men stood before the building amazed. The tinny sounding music blared over loud speakers mounted high up on the facade. The lights flickered and sparked but illuminated the area in front of the funhouse. The metal front wall was painted with clowns, elephants, and balloons. A ramp climbed to the door. Rust and faded paint competed for space on the high wall.

“How in hell…” Boomer mumbled out of breath. His desk job offered little time for exercise and the hike had taken a lot out of him.

“Who the hell knows?” Chris interrupted. The man raised a hand to his mouth and yelled, “Hey anybody home? Hey!” The man put his fingers into his mouth and whistled shrilly.

There was no response; just the same creepy music and faint flickering lights. The man took a step toward the ramp. Mitch grabbed his arm and stopped him. “Where are you going?”

The man pulled a rubber band out of his pocket and slipped his hair into it; keeping his shoulder length hair his buddies loved to rip him about out of his face. “I’m checking this out? Why?”

“Oh hell no!” Boomer mumbled. The short man was leaning with his hands on his thighs trying to catch his breath.

A grin creased the biker’s handsome features as he looked at his beefy pals circled around him. “What … you boys ain’t chicken are ya?” The stout man thrust his thumbs into his arm pits as he began to cluck like a hen mocking his old friends.

Mitch reached out and gave the man’s thick shoulder a shove while Cam took a step back. Boomer said, “I’m not going in that rat trap. It will probably cave in around us.”

Chris laughed at his friends. “Where is your sense of adventure? I mean you guys act like a bunch of middle aged cunts.” The man knew how to push their buttons. He flashed his white teeth, “puu…puu…pussies!” Just like he did growing up when he bullied the group into some mischief. “puu…puuu…pussies.” Chris laughed. He took another step toward the ramp and suddenly the lights flickered out and the music slowly died.

The woods faded to pitch black. The moon had drifted behinds some clouds. “Ah just great!” Cam barked. There was a rustling in the brush and a loud thud. The men jumped back as something hit the ground at their feet. It was too dark to see anything. “What was that?” Cam hissed. There were some gasps… and a moan.

Someone yelled, “Fuck!”

The music began slowly gaining speed about the time the lights flashed on brighter than before. Chris stood on the ramp with one hand on the handrail as he looked at his buddies. Boomer was gone. There was a moan and some movement under the brush below as all eyes traveled down.

Mitch asked, “What are you doing down there?” He grabbed Boomer’s arm and pulled the man to his feet.

The short man’s nose was bleeding. As he staunched the flow he mumbled, “Shut up.”

“Did somebody hit you?” Cam asked slowly.

“No.” The man put one knuckle against his nose and blew farmer style. “I ran into that tree.”

Chris immediately started laughing but was soon joined by the others. The short man blushed as he tried to staunch the flow of blood. “Come on let’s get out of here. I need a beer.” He grunted. Cam pulled one from his pocket and handed to the man as he opened one for himself.

Chris waved his hand dismissively as he walked up the ramp studying the mysterious building before him. “Go ahead; I’ve got to check this out. This is fuckin awesome!”

Mitch said, “Come on Chris maybe we…” but the biker stepped through the wide door way as the doors automatically opened for him before closing behind the man.

The man faced a black wall with fluorescent arrows and flowers painted on it. The room was lit by black lights. He followed the arrow and stepped through another door that slid open for him. Chris reappeared on an open balcony beside the entrance. His buddies were in a huddle obviously debating whether to follow the man or abandon him. Chris stepped on a disc that immediately started to spin in circles. His exclamation caught the attention of the others. The beefy man in leather stepped off the disc backward only to step on another plate that spun him just as fast in the opposite direction. The man hooted as he tried to maintain his balance. His next step brought him thankfully onto a flat platform. Chris was wildly dizzy but managed to laugh as he stood with one hand against his head as the world spun around him. He panted, “Come on boys, what you waiting on? You wanted a night to remember, don’t ya?” He glanced up at the building he stood in, “I’d say this just may be IT! Four drunk bastards and an abandoned funhouse with nobody to tell us what to do. If we all were still fifteen this would be a dream come true.” The man stepped up to the railing as his head cleared. Unknown to Chris his size 12 biker boots lined up perfectly with two foot prints painted on the metal floor. As he stood discussing the pros and cons with his pals, two metal tubes rose out of the floor and slid up the cuffs of his leather suit.

Cam barked, “Well, I’m not fifteen anymore.”

To which, the biker said, “Tell me about it. You were a hell of a lot more fun back then.” The stud stuck out his thick lower lip in a taunting pout at Cam. Chris felt cold air seeping up his legs just before a loud hiss erupted from nowhere that made the man jump so bad that he might have cleared the rail. That is except that it felt as if his feet were clamped to the floor. Air from the hidden source flooded his leather suit as the loud hissing continued. The others stared in awe but quickly dissolved into laughter as the tough leather clad biker inflated before them. His leather suit ballooned forcing his arms to rise out at his sides like a starfish. “My suit”, Chris grunted as he felt the stiff leather strain. The extra material in the ass of the suit let air collect until his leather ass looked twice as big. The chest and shoulders rose up around his handsome head making it hard to look down or open his mouth. “Shut this off before I pop!” Chris could only imagine what the air was doing to his $800.00 suit. His pals leaned against one another in hysterics as they watched the tough man sway from side to side like some 400 pound biker blimp. The night was filled with the loud hiss and the sound of stretching leather. Air escaped around his beefy neck but the constant influx of air kept the suit blown up to extremes. Chris’s long hair began to slip from its binds and float around his handsome face. Mitch and Cam jogged up the ramp. They joined Chris on the balcony sidestepping the spinning discs. Boomer was following along at his own pace. He had ripped some strips of material from his t-shirt and stuffed it up his nose to stop the bleeding but by now his eyes had started to darken as two black eyes began to take shape after his mishap.

The two bodybuilders stood around the inflated biker laughing. “Shut this off”, the man grunted as he shifted his eyes back and forth between his pals. For their part the muscled men were in no hurry as they squeezed and poked the inflated leather. The tight belt at Chris’s waist gave him a wild V-taper and by now he dwarfed even the seriously muscled Mitch. The bodybuilder patted his massive chest as he looked across the inflated man at his training partner as he grinned, “Who knew building a body could be so easy and here we have been busting ass in the weight room. Cam laughed as he squeezed the man’s arm noting that it felt as tight as a football. Mitch looked down laughing before he raised his foot and stomped down hard on the platform between the blimp’s legs. The hissing stopped and there was a whine as the tubes retreated back into the floor. As soon as Chris got some movement to his arms he started patting the suit forcing air out as he did his best to examine the expensive suit. He backed away from the railing quickly deflating to his normal size though his suit looked baggier now as if the inflation had force it to grow larger.

Next to the platform were two long metal plates that rose in a slant several feet to another door. The plates rose up and down in independent motion making it hard to walk up the slope. There were handrails beside the jostling walk for balance. Mitch and Cam were up it in seconds. Boomer saw them disappear through the door as he came onto the balcony. He hit one spinning disc and then the next before throwing his head over the railing and hurling the contents of his stomach into the weeds below. “You never could hold your beer and yet you still managed to blow up that beer gut just the same.” Chris sneered as he patted his own tight waist. Boomer managed to flip him the finger as he leaned over the rail panting. The biker laughed as he followed the others through the door way.

Boomer was too drunk for this shit and tired. He just wanted to go somewhere and sit down. He had looked forward to a quiet beer party not some Hardy Boys adventure. He spit into the grass hoping to get rid of the taste in his mouth.

Chris joined the others in a long room. The walls were lined with crazy mirrors that were a staple of this sort of place. The twisted reflection could shrink a 6’5” tall man to the size of a dwarf or play with a stick figure’s torso until look as if he weighed 500 pounds. The boys had learned on a class trip in grade school it was done by bending the mirrors to reach the desired effect. This knowledge didn’t dampen the amusement for Mitch and Cam who were down the hall laughing their heads off as they pushed one another out of the way for a chance to study the effect the mirror would have on their muscled builds. The biker had few doubts that beer previously consumed might be adding to the enjoyment. Chris walked down the hall of mirrors sometimes chuckling as his body morphed, sometimes pausing before one that had an unusual effect. As he neared to two bodybuilders Cameron grab him by the arm and pulled him laughing before what must have been the boy’s favorite. Chris watched as his 6’2”frame shrank before his eyes until he looked no taller than 4’. Not only had he shrunk but his beefy body had widened until he looked as wide as he was tall. “Bad assed midget biker”, Cam chuckled followed by his hyena laugh that appeared when he had a few. Chris turned sideways even laughing himself at his leather clad muscled but tiny reflection. Cam could hardly catch a breath but pushed him aside as he pulled the huge muscle man in front of the mirror. “Get a load of this” he whizzed.”

They all laughed at the four foot tall muscle man. All that muscle packed into a short frame made Mitch look as if he weighed 435 rather than 235. For his part Mitch flexed and turned before the mirror as his friends laughed. The trio had quieted some when Mitch glanced up to see his training partner standing mesmerized before a mirror on the opposite wall. Cam was amazed at what he saw reflected. The image wasn’t distorted or freakish looking. The image was a fair refection of his everyday appearance except that he looked as if he had gained 50 pounds of muscle. That is he had swelled to Mitch’s size and beyond. Cameron pulled the borrowed fleece over his head and flexed in his skin tight long sleeved shirt.

“Well will you look at that! You’ll want one of these babies for your bedroom.” Mitch pushed an embarrassed Cam aside so he could see what the crazy mirror did to his already prime physique. The big man stepped up only to find a normal reflection. He scratched his head as he turned before the mirror. He pulled the leather suit Chris up in front of him and still the reflection was fairly accurate. Cam laughed as he pushed his cotton coated arm in from the side in front of the two men standing facing the mirror. He arm magically swelled with bigger muscles. Cam pushed the others aside laughing as he flexed before a mirror that only seemed to work for him as his two friends watched amazed.

Just then there was a loud clack and lights came on over an area at the end of the hall. The men turned their attention to the area as a line of what appeared to be high backed rollercoaster cars came to a stop in front of them. Chris jumped in the lead car, “This is more like it!” the man cried. He hadn’t been overly impressed with the hall of mirrors but a wild ride through the dark was more his style. Cam started to jump into the car beside him but the biker shoved a thick arm out stopping him. “This ain’t no lover’s lane get your own car.”

Mitch grinned at the man from the next car as the big man nearly filled it on his own. Cam slid into the third car. Creaks and clangs could be heard from the darkness ahead but few knew what was in store. Just then Boomer came staggering through the door into the hall of mirrors.

“Hey come on guys let’s get out of here.”

Just then the cars slowly creaked and began to move forward. “Hey wait up. Where you going?”

“Who knows? Wait here and we will get you after the first ride”, Mitch assured the man who was still fifteen feet away from the platform as the cars began to pull away. The three men hooted and hollered as the string of cars they rode in disappeared into the darkness. Cam gave the short man a pinky and thumb wave as he disappeared into the dark.

The roller coaster cars dropped and turned as they picked up speed. There were faint lights along the walls with some spooky figures illuminated below them. The route was too long to fit in the small funhouse so the men concluded the façade must have masked a cave they were now dropping into. The cars gains speed rapidly as the biker rode with his thick arms in the air yelling. The other two were enjoying themselves just the same but with hands firmly grasping the bar in front of them. The cars raddled and banged as they jerked down the course; turning first one way and then the next; always gaining speed until it felt as if they were flying at 40 miles an hour. The wheels squealed in protest as if they hadn’t been oiled in decades. Mitch and Cam kept exchanging glances as the ride got rougher. For his part, Chris had dropped his arms down to the grab bar to hold on. His hair had finally slipped its binds and was flopping in the air behind him. As the machines picked up even more speed and protested in louder squeals, the rails dropped down another slope leaving their bellies behind. Faintly the light revealed that ahead the tunnel branched off in three different directions. The biker turned to point this out to Mitch but the muscled man couldn’t understand what he was saying. As Mitch leaned forward for a better chance there was a loud metallic clang as the three cars separated. Each car was on a rail of its own as they hurled into the dark. Then with no warning the outside cars holding Chris on the right and Cam on the left veered off suddenly into dark tunnels of their own. The two could hear Mitch yell, “Oh shit!” as his voice trailed off to nothingness.

Back up in the hall of mirrors, Morgan was pissed that his dumbass friends had left him. He walked from mirror to mirror checking out the effect out of boredom. The drunk man managed to smirk as he stood before one that stretched his shorter than average frame to extreme heights. It lengthened his meaty build to boney extremes. Boomer turned before the mirror wondering what it might be like to be 7’ tall at his current weight.

He soon bored of this line of thought and stepped before the mirror that the two

bodybuilders had so much fun with. A blue light popped on over head casting a faint blue glow over him. Boomer grinned as it appeared that his body lost a couple feet in height. He laughed as he remembered his old adage from the weight room back during his jock days. He’d always said he wasn’t going get any taller so he might as well work on getting wider. The crazy mirror had done that. He looked about as wide as he was tall and as for his ex- jock build, he now looked packed with muscle. The man’s shoulders looked like cannon balls and too big for the tiny armholes in Mitch’s vest. He flexed his arms and his t-shirt sleeves looked packed with muscle. His forearms looked 18” around and crisscrossed with fat veins. Boomer had to laugh at the effect. As he poised before the crazy mirror a perfumed mist shot into the air. The man waved a hand in front of his face but couldn’t help but breathe it in. It was sickeningly sweet. The short man coughed. He looked up at the high ceiling wondering where it had come from or the purpose of perfuming an abandoned funhouse. Boomer coughed again but turned his attention back to the mirror. He couldn’t help but grin at his comic reflection. He hadn’t looked so muscled since his jock days and definitely not near as big as he now did. His chest and shoulders easily filled Mitch’s padded vest. His jacked legs strained the too tight pants he wore. Boomer felt tired after all the beer he had consumed. He raised a hand to his face and rubbed it over his eyes. His stubby little hand looked funny as he looked in the mirror. Like a midget muscleman’s hand; all tiny fingers but broad and thick too. He wiggled his tiny fingers and laughed. Something caught his attention and Morgan looked up. He had never realized how high the ceiling was in this place. They had to be 20’ at least. It struck him funny and made him feel small. He glanced back into the mirror and noticed that his beer belly even looked smaller. He tried to take the white down vest off but couldn’t. It fit his thick shoulders too tightly. He pulled up his tattered shirt and looked at his belly. It was creased with fat muscles like he had a baby roid gut. He rubbed his hand over it and felt rippled with muscle. The man put his hand over his face again and though, “You drunk fucker!” Boomer was so tired he wanted to take a nap. He looked toward the silent rail line and wondered when his buddies would return.

Boomer pulled his hand from his face and looked at it. It sort of looked child sized. He turned it before his face. There was the hairy backside and the scars he got in junior high track when he fell in the cinders and that big kid from Central had smashed his hand under his metal spikes. Boomer still had the scars. “What the fuck!” The man looked down but the floor was too close. “What’s happening to me?” He turned away from the crazy mirror and walked to the one behind him where at least Mitch and Chris had seen their true reflection. Boomer’s thighs rubbed together and seams began to pop open on his jeans. He swayed from side to side on muscled legs that seemed far too short. Fear grew in his gut as he approached the mirror. ‘Oh my god’, the man thought, ‘I’m only three and half foot tall.’ Things that he had noticed being well below his site range now were at head height or above. Morgan looked down at his black boot. It looked child sized.

Fear gripped him as he turned and started to waddle toward the door. The mirrored hall seemed twice as long. He wanted to run; to get out of the crazy place as fast as he could so he would return to normal but his short legs were so muscle bound now he had trouble even walking. There was a bench at the end of the hall by the door that now looked giant sized or was it the man felt child sized? Boomer was panting and puffing as he waddled down the hall. Sweat soaked his shirt. The man was exhausted as if he weighed a ton and the hall was getting longer. Close to the door he stumbled and fell face down. He was almost there he reassured himself. Boomer pulled his too short legs under him and stood slowly and started waddling to the door with his too broad and muscled shoulders leaned back. The seams on his clothes popped open with every step but he was almost to the door. As Boomer reached for the door, he felt a huge hand clamp down over his shoulder. The panicked man jumped but knew it had to be one of his buddies. Before he could turn he heard a high pitched crazy voice say, “And where do you think you are going little man?” The question was followed by a high pitched crazy laugh. The hands spun Boomer around as if he were a child and he came face to face with a pocked marked face in faint white makeup with a grotesque broad smile. The man wore and odd tight colorful suit that showed his body to be outrageously muscled.

Boomer jumped back in horror. “I…I…I… was all that came out of his increasingly foggy mind. The room began to spin just before everything went black.