This choice: He's turning something over in his hands... • Go Back...Chapter #4Curiouser... by: Jubal   "Alex, where'd you get the TV remote?" You asked, confused.
Alex only shrugged, turning it over in his hands. It was almost as long as his whole arm, reaching from his palms up to the hems of his oddly short sleeves. The buttons looked huge against his fingers.
"I don't know, I just turned around and it was there on the floor, where you said the glove was!" He frowned, tugging on the shoulders of his shirt. "It was on the coffee table, remember?"
"This is weird." You muttered, pulling the controller from his hands. You ignored his brief protest.
"First the gloves disappear, and now the remote moved on its own?"
"Well what do we do about it?" Alex asked, snatching the remote back from you with a scowl and standing up in the doorway. "I mean, I'm not getting shocked again, and watching a giant TV sounds kinda fun."
That said, your little brother promptly turned on his heel and marched back toward the living room.
"Hold it," you growled, walking quickly to catch up with the little creep. "We had a deal, and if you think I'm-"
"Look!"
Stopping mid-rant, you quickly traced along your brother's finger and up to the coffee table. From below, you could easily look through it's glass top to see the gloves sitting right in the middle. You blinked.
Yep, still there.
"Alex," you whispered seriously, "I think something very, very weird is going on. And not just giant house weird."
"Is someone messing with us?" Your brother asked incredulously.
A sudden, sharp 'pop' sound startled both of you. Alex looked down, confused.
"I think they're doing something to my clothes, too." He said hesitantly, staring at the popped button of his jeans, which rested below a bare sliver of skin showing under the hem of his shirt.
You looked him up and down. It did look like something was shrinking his clothes; his shirt was too short and tight, his pants were showing an inch or so of bare ankle, and now his pants had popped open. You quickly checked yourself out; no, you seemed fine. But then, you liked wearing baggy clothes; maybe you just couldn't tell yet.
"I've seen pranks like that," you nodded, but looked up sharply at the remote, "but not like that. And we haven't seen anybody! Are they invisible or something? And how are we supposed to get out of here without the gloves?"
"Easy." Alex brightened, and firmly pushed down on your shoulder.
When you were in a crouch, your brother simply repeated what you'd tried on the door. You grinned.
"Duh. And the table's way lower, this'll be a piece of cake." You quickly winced as Alex shifted his weight. "Oof. Seriously, kid, after this you are laying off the cake. I think my shoulders are still bruised from last time; you're the heaviest midget ever!"
"Shut up." Alex grumbled as he stretched his arms out above the table. At least he didn't need tiptoes this time!
You stifled a yelp as he raised up one foot - putting all his weight on the other one! - and tried to swing it up over the table.
"I...can't...reach!" Your brother groaned, frustrated. Even if the tabletop was within easy reach, your brother couldn't get enough of a grip on the slippery glass to pull himself up!
"Now what do we do?" He asked morosely as the two of you flopped down on the carpet below the table in defeat.
You shrugged. You were officially out of ideas. Shooting a glance over, you offered your brother a weak grin.
"Watch some awesome big screen TV?" You suggested idly.
His eyes lit up like christmas. You couldn't help smiling too, thought that might have been because he accidentally ripped the sleeve of his favorite shirt when he pumped his arm in victory.
Picking up the remote, you checked to see if the power button was in the right place. You frowned. Alex, waiting impatiently for you to do something, looked over to see what was wrong.
There was the same big red button in the corner like always, but it didn't say power.
Alex turned to look you in they eye.
"What the heck is 'Click Me' supposed to mean?"  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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