Precious

Harry was a privileged individual, having been born into money he had not wanted for anything his entire life, thus far. After attending private schools, colleges and universities, Harry had decided he wanted to be part of politics and perhaps give something back to the community. However that community tended to be other rather rich and privileged individuals. Having been brought up in an affluent area Harry had never really mixed with anyone below his social standing, however in recent years the local council had tried to make the area more accessible. Lower and working class people had moved in and soon Harry’s hometown was flooded with ‘riff raff’. Harry had made it his mission to return his town back to how it should be, for people like him with higher status and higher class.

 

After five months of research, meetings and failed ideas, nothing had worked for Harry. His ideas always landed flat and often led to backlash, reducing the credibility of his political party and his own ability. He had just finished a lunch with some of the senior party members who shared the same views he did on the current situation. They had been staunch supporters of him when he first started his campaign to return the class back to the neighbourhood and had put a lot faith as well as money into his cause. However the negative press and poor decisions Harry had made trying to drive the hooligans and chavs out was causing all of them to look bad. They had just given Harry an ultimatum, if he slipped up one more time he would be off the project and out of the party. Harry knew there would also be other consequences if he failed, he would be blacklisted from events, important people wouldn’t want to be associated with him and worst of all his reputation and family name would be at risk. If he fell out of favour with the elite he could end up no better the losers and degenerates he was trying to get rid of.

Harry sat staring at the remaining wine in his glass, he was trying not to show the furious amount of anxiety he was feeling. That meeting with the senior members had really shaken him, he didn’t want to disappoint them and he certainly didn’t want to be thrown out of the party. As he sat at the restaurant looking at the window he spotted a group of young guys, all of them dressed in grey tracksuits, drinking cans of cheap beer and smoking cigarettes. Harry watched as they loudly bumbled down the street, chanting some dumb football song and cat calling anything with boobs. These were the exact people Harry was trying to get rid of, but nothing he had tried had managed to convince them to leave or move away. Harry looked at the group of guys with disgust, they had no understanding of style, grooming or etiquette. While he was wearing a tailored Armani suit, with designer shoes and a 10 grand watch, they were trolling around in budget store clothes. While his hair was immaculately styled, his beard cleanly trimmed, his eyebrows plucked and skin moisturized, and they looked like they had just rolled out of bed and took a razor to their heads. While he was enjoying an expensive glass of merlot in one of the most popular restaurants, they were drinking cans of cheap beer while huffing on the cheap cigarettes that they had probably rolled themselves. They were worlds apart and that’s how they should stay, far far apart Harry smiled. As he paid his bill and started his short walk home, Harry started to think; perhaps his ideas hadn’t worked because his world was so different to theirs. If he wanted them to do what he wanted he would need someone who thought like them. Problem was he never would be able to befriend someone of their stature; they would make him look bad. Harry walked up the steps to his three storey townhouse and pulled out his keys. As he entered his luxurious home he sighed “I wish I knew how those lower class morons lived and what they were thinking, then it would be so easy to manipulate them and they would be long gone from this neighbourhood.”

Tricksters often love the high life and everything that came with high society, the parties, the houses, the cars, the holidays and most importantly the multitude of rich assholes who didn’t know how good they had it. So when Harry made his wish the trickster was ready and waiting to fulfil the desire of the bratty rich kid. With a gust of green smoke the magic took hold of Harry and pushed him into his house, slamming the door behind him.

“Weird” Harry spoke under his breath as he turned and looked at his shut front door, must have been a backdraft of some sorts. As Harry set down his keys and wallet he started to feel hot, it began as just a slight raise in temperature but soon Harry felt as if he was in a sauna. He started to sweat heavily and his clothes began to stick to him, he removed his suit jacket and shoes but that still wasn’t good enough. He unbuttoned his shirt revealing his lean body; the sweat now dipping down his six pack abs. Harry took a quick moment to appreciate his body as he wiped the droplets of sweat off his perfect physique, but after his brief moment of narcissism he started to panic. Was he ill? Was it something he ate at the restaurant? Harry headed to the kitchen to grab himself a beverage to cool him down, discarding his shirt as he walked. He had bought some mineral water that had been imported from Norway the other day and that was sure to cool him down, but as he grasped the handle of the fridge door a tendril of green smoke rushed past him. When Harry opened to the door his was surprised at the contents, it was almost empty and what was in it Harry didn’t recognise. All that sat in his fridge was a half open pack of bacon, a slab of cheese, half a pint of milk and cans of cheap beer. Where was his assortment of vegetables, his smoothies, salmon, halloumi and chopped watermelon? His housekeeper Edna only went shopping yesterday what had happened to his food and who had put this cheap rubbish in his fridge. It was then Harry heard a bang come from upstairs, which he quickly headed towards.

“Who’s there? Edna is that you? I have a good mind to fire you for messing with my things” Harry shouted as he marched up the stairs. As he reached the top step a curl of green smoke snaked its way up the bottom of his trousers causing Harry to look down. Harry was confused, his body looked different somehow, earlier when he had admired his body he had admired his muscular abdominals but while they were still there his body seemed thinner. He prodded and squeezed his abdomen, while before he was would have been met with a generous layer of muscle he just felt bone, he even noticed that when he breathed his ribs would start to show and his collar bone was certainly more prominent. Harry knew now that something was definitely wrong, he must be getting sick maybe it was the stress from the last meeting? However as Harry continued to study his dwindling body other changes had started to occur. Harry stared dumbfounded as his once smart pair of navy trousers started to lighten and turn grey, the expensive blend of fabrics changed to cheap polyester and the buttons and zip melted away as two tassels sprouted out the top and tightened around his waist. Another curl of green smoke then proceeded to wrap around Harry’s head, leaving him frozen as ratty baseball cap materialised on his head. Harry stood frightened he slowly took out his phone; he had to call someone for help. Except he couldn’t, at least not before the trickster could have a little more fun.  Instead of calling the police or his friends Harry’s fingers opened up the camera and proceeded to snap a picture of the altered Harry. Then against his will he sent the picture to everyone in his contacts.

“NOOO” Harry screamed as the message flew to all of the party members, family members and friends. Harry tapped furiously at his phone to somehow stop the photo from being distributed, but it was too late, soon everyone he cared about would see him dressed and looking like a scally. Harry threw off the cap and stumbled over as he pulled down his new sweatpants “what the fuck is fuckin appening?!” Harry quickly clasped his hands over his mouth. His voice sounded different, lower, deeper and why had he cursed? He never spoke so crassly. Then once again the heat inside him started to raise, more sweat dripped down his skinnier frame. He pushed his way into his bathroom in nothing but his designer briefs and let the cold tap run.  He lent over the sink and started to splash the water over his face. The cold water felt good, he cupped another handful of the refreshing water and dunked his face into it. With his hands over his face he tried to make sense of what had happened, clearly he must be sick. Perhaps the fridge, the clothes and the photo had all been hallucinations brought about by stress? It seemed unlikely to Harry but what else could he believe, his body and clothes literally changed in front of him. He needed to call for help.

However as Harry took his hands away from his face he was met with unfamiliar surroundings. His once modern marbled tiled bathroom was gone, his bathtub and power shower were gone, his expensive sundries and aftershaves were gone. In fact nothing he was staring at was his, it was as if he was in an entirely different house. He stared dumbfounded at the bare walls covered in plaster with the off beige tiles covering only half the room. The shower had been replaced with a cheap fixture with lime scale covering the nozzle and the sink which had held his moisturiser, shampoos and shaving equipment was bare, replaced with a bar of soap and well chewed toothbrush. Then a horrid stench washed over Harry, the smell was heavy and overbearing, Harry gagged when he looked down at the stained toilet bowl with waste clinging to the side, accompanied by a well-used and abused toilet brush sitting in filthy water. Harry thought he was going to be sick, but there was no way he was getting any closer to that toilet, He needed to get out, he needed to escape and Harry once again grabbed his phone and tried to call for help, but not before another green wisp of smoke engulfed him.  Harry remained frozen once again as he stared at his phone and the mirror in front of him. First his underwear began to shift and change, the designer waistband quickly faded and a new pattern appeared on them as they became cheap pair of packet underwear. Then it was his bodies turn, the skinnier frame he possessed before started to fill out but not with muscle but with fat. The last remains of his six pack disappeared as he grew a small gut, his nipples expanded as the beginnings of manboobs blossomed from his chest and his arms and legs grew a nice layer of cellulite to hide any definition that was previously present on Harry’s body. Harry wanted to run, to escape this strange bathroom, the changes that were happening to him and the awful smell but he remained frozen as green smoke washed over his face. Harry watched in horror as his previously angular and chiselled jawline disappeared, rounding out and stretching, giving him the start of double chin. His small ears and nose started to grow and quickly became oversized on his smaller face, his ears in particular seemed to grow the most as grew outwards. His brow became more prominent and his eyes sunk further back giving him a more simian appearance. His preened and well styled black hair started to become lighter and then rapidly began pulling itself back inside his head while hair on his abdomen started to grow. While Harry couldn’t see it he could certainly feel it as dense thickets of hair sprouted in his pubic area and his ass crack. His body then once again opened the camera on his phone; he then automatically stuck his middle finger up and tried to look tough. Harry screamed for his body to stop but another photo was taken and once again sent to everyone he knew.

“No no no no” Harry kept uttering in his new unfamiliar voice, he scrambled around with his phone but this time he didn’t have a chance to do anything as his expensive iPhone thickened and buttons sprouted from the screen and was soon replaced with the cheapest supermarket mobile Harry had ever seen.  Harry couldn’t take it, his possessions, his good looks and style had melted away in front of his eyes leaving behind some below average nobody. The heat inside him started rise again and his breathing started to become quick but laboured, it was only when an aggressively loud banging from the other side of the bathroom door gave him a fright did he finally pass out.

Harry woke up to thick cloud of cigarette smoke and a light slapping of his face, perhaps it had all been a dream? Perhaps that glass of wine at lunch had made him a bit woozy? Or perhaps all of it had happened and the nightmare was just beginning and Harry soon found out that it was the latter rather than the former. Harry would have shouted, screamed and ran for the hills if he had full control of his body as he woke up to man crouching over him blowing his cigarette fumes into his face. Harry could only lay there as he studied the stranger before him, although he seemed oddly familiar and his body felt comfortable around him. The man’s head was shaven, his nose was large and crooked, his ears were ginormous and stood outwards and his face was dotted with acne scars.

Harry wanted to run a mile but his body disobeyed him and instead he let the man help him up.

“What appened?” Harry almost whispered.

“You fuckin twat Hazza, you fell over in the bathroom, you’re lucky you didn’t end up face first in the crapper!”  The man then gave Harry a large slap on the back causing Harry to wince in pain. “Speaking of crap … PHHRRP” The man let out an unapologetically loud and long fart.

The smell hit Harry instantly and he couldn’t help but let out a small retch.

“Aww don’t be so precious Hazza, not like your shits don’t stink I mean look at the toilet hahaha. Now piss off while I take a shit and get fuckin dressed we’re meeting the lads in 10 minutes.” The man then pushed Harry out of the vile smelling bathroom and slammed the door.  Harry’s body then seemed to go into autopilot as he walked through an unfamiliar flat to his new bedroom. A dirty single bed, a broken wardrobe some weights and an old TV were waiting for him.  Harry knew this wasn’t really his bedroom, his bedroom was on the third storey of his house, had a 50 inch home cinema system and a walk-in wardrobe and was nothing like this hovel. However another part of Harry felt right at home, as green smoke flooded the room Harry gained some new memories.

His brain started to hurt as conflicting memories of his life rushed in, he wasn’t Harry he was Hazza. He had lived on the estate most of his life, he left school at 15 with no qualifications and no prospects but he didn’t care school was for losers. He spent most of his days lounging around smoking cigarettes and going to the pub to get drunk. Although he got most of his money from benefits if he needed the extra drinking money him and his mates would go robbing, the richer part of town was never short of posh wankers to steal from. As Hazza pulled on another tracksuit, a silver chain and some cheap white trainers he realised that he didn’t live alone, naa he lived with his best mate Dom although everyone called him Dombo coz of his big ears. He was always there for him not like his shitty parents.

No No No Harry shook his head violently this wasn’t him at all he loved his parents, he went to school and university, he had a good job. That’s when it hit him, he was turning into one of the lower class monkeys he hated so much and it wasn’t just his physical appearance anymore it was his mind as well. It was a struggle for Harry to keep control; Hazza was getting stronger and was certainly more comfortable in this environment. That’s why Harry decided he needed to leave, get back to his house, his real family and friends. However as he headed for the door he was greeted by Dombo who wrapped his arm around him, “C’mon Hazza the lads are waiting, they are all gonna want to buy you a pint”

“Why would they do that?” Harry asked confused

“Don’t be a nob Hazza, we are all looking forward to you starting on the site tomorrow, it’s gonna be a right laugh working with ya”

Harry gulped at the thought of working with these chavs, he needed a way out of this nightmare and he needed to get away from Dombo. But as they made the short walk to the local pub Dombo’s arm was like a vice around him and before long he was at the bar with a pint of beer in front of him surrounded by ten other scallies and chavs. Harry tried to make excuses so he could leave and get away from rabble which were apparently his new friends but every time he got up another drink was pushed in front of him and soon Harry was drunk. Harry didn’t realise as he sat drinking with his new pals that his body had undergone further changes, he now had at least seven different tattoos across his body, his teeth had yellowed and become crooked from the cigarettes he smoked  and his right ear became pierced and a small stud materialised in it. But after eight pints Harry was oblivious to the changes, he was too drunk to stay in control and Hazza had been in charge. Hazza happily laughed and joked with the lads, talking about football, girls he wanted to fuck and who he could beat in a fight but even he had his limits when it came to drinking. After the tenth pint he had started stumble and was beginning to feel sick.

“Dombo mate, I think errr I think I’m gonna be sick”

“Not ere you fuckin lightweight, let’s get ya to the loo”

Dombo managed to hoist Harry up and helped him to the back of the pub where toilets were. After a long night of drinking in a full pub the toilets were less than fresh and the smell did not do any favours for the already queasy Harry. The only other guy Harry could so was a large middle aged man preparing to use the urinal, but before he could start he saw Harry and Dombo.

“You alright boys?”

“Yeah all good mate, just this one ere can’t handle his beers haha” Dombo laughed while thrusting Harry towards the man.

“Ah I take it this is the new recruit, you better sober up a bit ! I want you working good and hard tomorrow, I don’t work with any pussies”

“Don’t worry about Hazza ere, he’s a good worker even if he is a bit precious haha he nearly puked when I farted earlier haha”

Hazza turned red with embarrassment he wasn’t precious, he was hard. “Fuck off Dombo I ain’t precious”

The big man at the urinal started to laugh “haha we’ll see” he then proceeded to pull down his overalls letting his fat hairy ass hang out and let rip a massive wet fart that vibrated off the walls of the pub toilet.

Both Dombo and the man began laughing their heads off, while Harry was having a little bit of trouble. The smell of the last fart was thick and smelt of stale beer and raw sewage and for Harry it was too much, he dived into one of the stalls and vomited. The last thing Harry remembered before he passed out was the sound of Dombo laughing and the man calling him precious.

The next morning Harry woke up to a familiar sight, his new dank beige bathroom and Dombo standing over him. His head was pounding and his breath tasted of vomit, he looked down at himself and saw he was basically naked except for the cheap pair of boxers he had on the day before. As Harry looked down at his body he saw how it finally changed, he felt disgust as he looked at the tattoos that littered his body and sad at the now much larger beer gut that had grown leaving him far from fit. Harry then looked up at Dombo who was holding something bright orange.

“Ere you go you twat, get these overalls on and clean your teeth we have a bus to catch”

“Wait? What?”

“We’ve got work ya dickhead and big Jon ain’t gonna like it if we’re late”

Harry stared at the grubby overalls in despair, it was hopeless he wasn’t himself anymore. The body, the home, the family and the fucking job weren’t Harry’s they were Hazza’s. He didn’t know why he had changed and he didn’t care anymore, every time he tried to escape his new life his body would stop him and Hazza would take control. Harry felt tears well up in his eyes as he continued to stare at his filthy work outfit while he sat on his dirty bathroom floor, he probably would have started crying if Dombo hadn’t walked back in with a big smile on his face.

“Don’t worry Hazza you won’t feel shit for long, speaking of shit PPHHRTTPP choke on that.”

A foul eggy smell drifted around Harry as he got dressed into his new work attire, he hated how his new best friend thought it was hilarious to fart around him his old friends would have never of dreamed of doing anything so crass and rude. However he wasn’t with his old friends anymore and neither was he Harry, he was Hazza and he needed to get to work.

Harry had very rarely gotten the bus it was just too pedestrian for him, but now it seemed it would be his main mode of transport. He stared out the window as Dombo rambled on about something that had happened at the pub, he noticed as they were driving a rally for his old political party. He looked into the crowd and saw the familiar faces of the elite, his old friends and colleagues. A couple of them even made eye contact and Harry hoped they would recognise and rescue him but all he got in return was snide dirty looks. They would never mix with such commoners plus the pictures they had been sent last night would have certainly destroyed any credibility Harry had left. As the bus stopped Harry noticed another man in high Viz overalls getting on the bus and his stomach couldn’t help but churn as he recognised him as the man from the urinals the night before.

The man seemed even larger and more imposing; his face was one of disgust as he looked at the posh snobs at their rally across the street.

“Morning big Jon” Dombo eagerly greeted the man who Harry quickly realised was his new boss.

“Morning boys, you see those posh wankers over there? They want us working class men out of their shitty little town. But it aint gonna happen, you know why?

Harry shook his head careful not to make too much eye contact with the gruff angry boss in front of him.

“Because the more they complain and try to gentrify the area the more building work it means for me hahaha” Big Jon then sat in between Dombo and Harry, leaving them very close together.

That was it Harry knew now why his previous ideas hadn’t worked, the harder he worked to drive them out the more reason they had to stay. It was then that Harry’s heart sank, it didn’t matter anymore, and even if he could talk to the other party members they would never believe a chav like him, not to mention his new body lacked the willpower or the knowledge to develop any ideas. He was just some common working class thug now, his future on a building site rather than politics.

Harry was on the verge of crying as he mourned his previous life but was interrupted by his new boss.

“Oh how rude of me” He then turned to Harry and immediately put him in a headlock. Harry tried to struggle and escape but it was futile while in the vice grip of the much larger man. He could smell the dense body odour of the sweaty middle aged builder and the dirt that clung to the old pair of overalls. Harry had no idea what was going on and with his head firmly in the crotch of Big Jon’s he heard a rumbling and the realisation hit of what was going to happen.

“Please big Jon, let me go please!” But Big Jon just let out a hearty chuckle as he raised his left leg and let out the most foul and vile fart Harry had ever smelt. It was comparable to having you face dunked in a used toilet and Harry had no choice but smell it all. Making it worse Big Jon held him there making sure he couldn’t hold his breath, Harry inhaled the vile odour that burned his nostrils and only when Harry started gagging did he release him from the grip. Big Jon laughed then gave Harry a couple of small slaps on the face and said
“Good morning precious”