"And now look at me..." Cloud watched in horror as the rolls of fifty-year-old fat shrank and vanished from the Don's body, revealing a well-honed, muscular physique beneath. The small tuft of off-yellow hair on his head became a full, proud head of spikiness, and the stained, moth eaten dinner jacket morphed into the close-fitting, dark-coloured clothing Cloud knew so well.
Don Corneo examined his, or rather Cloud's, body with admiration. "Yeowza! The chickies must be all over you." He flexed a bicep and cackled. "That flower girl who transformed you," he mused. "She looked just naive enough to be fooled by this."
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