Don't Mess With Witches!!

 2/25

I don’t know who needs to hear this! But…I beg you, don’t fuck with witches?! Not even a little. Not even a tiny little bit. Let me cut to the chase! My name is Barry. Do I look like a Barry to you? Do these big ‘ole titties look like Barry’s titties? Because a month ago I looked like a Barry. A month ago I looked like regular old broke ass Barry trying to find somewhere cheap to live so I could find a job and spend the rest of my life paying off the tuition I racked up to get the job in the first place. Except, now I am racked up with these…

You know how I got these? Desperation! See, to get the place to live to get the job to get the lifetime of indentured servitude, I need some liquidity – more debt. I know right… Except, I don’t have a job yet, so no-one is going to lend me any money for a deposit. That is, until my boy Kyle told me about a friend of a friend who knew this old lady who lends money. Oh, by the way, fuck you, Kyle!!

So, anyway, I went to see the lady – sweet old thing, and yes, she immediately agreed to lend me the green no questions asked. It was too good to be true, so I asked what was the catch and she pulled out this little figurine made of soft clay. I remember being a bit creeped out because it looked a little like me and was even dressed a bit like me, but the euphoria took over and besides I would pay her back in two weeks when I got my first paycheck.

Well, unfortunately for me, I fluffed interview after interview and turned up at the sweet little old lady’s door empty handed two weeks later, she just smiled warmly and placed the me-like figure on her coffee table. Producing a new piece of clay, she tore it in two and rolled two perfect little balls and pushed them up under the hoodie the figure was wearing – that happened to perfectly match the top I had pulled on that morning.

I stood there with my mouth wide open as two fleshy mounds grew on my chest in real time – two large bouncing and very real female breasts. I stayed away from her house after that – probably ill-advised but have any of my actions been even remotely wise? Every day that followed, every day that I didn’t pay my debt, I woke up with something new – long silky hair, soft feminine features, a curvy womanly body – no doubt that lady was sculpting that creepy miniature version of me. Today, it seems like she must have borrowed from the wardrobe of Cabaret Barbie because suddenly I am dressed like a stripper.

My options are changing and I worry what my job choices are now if I am to actually pull together this money to pay her back. I ordered this book online, ‘Voodoo for Dummies’ (see, I am even mentioned in the title) to try to find a way to reverse the process, but I am an amateur going up against a pro. All it has done is open my eyes to the arsenal of possibilities that sweet old bitch could still resort to – womanly thoughts, womanly desires, womanly pleasures… I already have the womanly body so is that what’s next? I refuse to even read the chapter on possession… Witches, man, I am telling you…stay the fuck away…!