You make it a total of two steps before you trip and fall on your face. You then crawl to the door twist the handle and pull it open. Light streams in from the open door and you feel a sense of triumph at anticipated freedom. There's just one problem; there's no way you are going to fit through that tiny door. You look around desperately for something to help you widen the portal, and notice a small table now bathed in the light from the door.
Upon the table you see a pair of vials of liquid and a pair small cakes. They are each labelled, but rather than the 'drink me' and 'eat me' notes you would expect of this situation, they are marked with other suggestive verbs. You pick up a bottle labeled 'sniff me' and consider it. You know you need to shrink to get out, and with a quick mustering of courage, you uncork the vial and inhale.
Immediately you feel it affecting you and toss the bottle away into the dark lest its pervading odor shrink you too much. You feel the once tight dress loosen a bit around, and then nothing. A quick self examination tells you that although you are now about 8 inches shorter, you are still too big to get through the door. You look to recover the 'sniff me' vial, but it appears to have dissappeared entirely, so you return to the tray. You pick up the other bottle and read its label. 'Gargle me' is a phrase you'd never thought you'd read before, but you pop the cork and oblige.
You gargle for a good half minute before you start to feel anything, and when the tingling starts this time, you feel it localized to your nether-regions. In shock, you swallow a bit of the gargled fluid, then spray the rest across the room in a spit-take that should have been legendary. You collapse to the floor in horror as you feel your manhood shrink back into yourself. With feverish action you clutch the first cake you can reach from the table and wolf it down in two bites hoping it will undo the work of the last item.
As was the case with the last drink, the cake has a localized effect, but the growth is in an entirely different area. You find that you now have a pair of quite lovely breasts. On the verge of frustrated tears you look at the last pastry. It is labeled 'throw me.' You slump down, slip off the problematic shoes, now two sizes too small, and sigh, and wimper.
You consider the cake for a moment, pick it up slowly, and then hurl it with all your strength at the small door. The small cake strikes the small door, the small door slams shut, and the wall around it falls away with a great crash. As the dust clears, you can see a great gaping hole to the outside before you.
Free now, but feeling less than triumphant, you pick up your shoes and walk out into the sunlight. Surveying your options, you decide to...
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