Thursday, April 10, 2014

April Fool's Day: 1927 - Trading the Old For the New

Mr. Horace Glass had become quite rich in his older days. He had had to sacrifice a great deal however, in order to get there. Spending so much of his days making money on his company, trading sums and overseeing factories, he had wasted much of his youth and more toiling to get to the top. Now that he was substantially wealthy, he had to contend with his greedy family. A wife he could never have sexual relations with (he did early on but with his deviancy for men it was simply a marriage of convenience now) and a son who was a nightmare. His son spent too much money on loose women and illegal booze and could never be bothered to work very hard. All he wanted was to inherit his father's fortune and not bother to earn his father's love or pride.

One day, Mr. Glass went to his doctor's office. There was a new doctor in to take over for his regular one, a Dr. April. He had gone because of sleeplessness and nerves. The man listened to him and inquired about his home life. He said that if one had stressful vibrations within the body it could lead to unhealthy heart palpitations.

"I wish I could take a pill that could make my son into something I could be proud of again."

"Well, children often don't turn out the way we think. Open up and say "ahhh". Thank you."

"I wish I could take a pill and be young again. I have so much money and there's no money in the world that could pay for that. Money can't buy happiness, doctor."

"Well, yes, but let's try anyway. Here." The doctor gave him a glass of strange looking fluid.

"What's this? I'm not sick."

"It's a tonic. It helps soothe the nerves."

"I need it! What's in it? Not coca?"

"Oh no, something far less stimulating."

"Splendid. Woo! That packs a wollop!"

"It's Youth Potion."

"Youth Potion! As if there were any such a thing!"

On the way home Horace felt energized. He had a spring to his step. He noticed he didn't feel any of the aches and pains he had been feeling these last few years, hell, decades. Whatever was in that stuff, he had to get more of it! What good chance to find a doctor who knew what he was doing.

Horace caught a glimpse of himself in a store glass window. Strange. His hair seemed darker and not gray. And his face seemed to be that of a 40 year old man. My eyes must be playing tricks with me, he thought.

He got home and hung up his hat. He felt constrained by his jacket. It felt tight. His muscles were throbbing from the walk. He could have taken the Model T but he thought it healthy to walk now and again. It invigorated the body. He promptly called his butler to make his lunch, which he wolfed down. Even asked for seconds. Rare for him.

He dozed for a few hours and got up. This day had been so strange. He normally would be working but he felt the need to call in this once to let the staff know he would be occupied. True, other rich men like himself went to work even less but he couldn't help but work hard. It's how he was taught growing up. He stretched out a firm strong arm and flexed. Wait. That couldn't be right. He sprung up and flexed again. He couldn't see his arm entirely since he was wearing a thick shirt but it felt amazingly hard and big, which was impossible. He took off his shirt. He gasped. He was hard and sinewy like a young man. He gasped.

"Holy Moses this is incredible! My voice! I sound like a" He looked into a mirror. He couldn't believe it. He ran into his bedroom. He felt like he could run forever! What marvelous legs he now had! Still, this had to be a dream. He stripped even further and grabbed his hat.

"Look at me! Holy kazoos this is the bees knees! I look like Hercules!"

He posed several times, noting how incredibly chiseled his face had become, how perfect his chest and arms and they felt even better. Why, other men paled in comparison to his new physique.

"This is remarkable!"

The phone rang. He picked up the speaking end and the listening end and eagerly said "Hello?"

"Hello, Mr. Glass. I was wondering what you thought of your Youth Potion."

"It's incredible! You should market it, you'll make a fortune!"

"I'm afraid it's just for you. And your son had some earlier as well. I made sure to treat him with a proper dosage."

"But that must mean..."

A shrill scream broke out. A child's scream.

"Oh that would be him. And just so you know, everyone will think of you in the same fashion. That is to say their memories will become one of you as an energetic young Grecian figure of a man. And your son is just a mere lad. No need to try to convince anyone the new strongman before them is indeed you. They will believe you."

"But why, doctor? Who are you? How did you pull this feat off?"

"It's April Fool's Day, Mr. Glass. I do it because it amuses me."

The phone clicked. Mr. Glass rushed outside to see his once huge adult son swimming in his too big pants and suit, the shirt and tie awkwardly huge as well.

"Well, sonny boy, looks like you get to look at things from a different perspective.

"Who are you? F-Father? Is that you? How did this happen? We've gotten much younger!"

"Yes and it's the perfect opportunity for you to be raised right this time!"

The boy objected to this. He was used to womanizing and pushing people around with his money. Mr. Glass called the butler to give the boy a taste of the paddle.

His son would indeed learn the value of listening to adults this time around. Mr. Glass found himself working hard with his fortune intact. In this reality he had inherited from his father but had made a substantial sum himself. He had also been given the friendship of another gentleman who lived with he and his wife. His wife and he had an arrangement to live in the same house but never really be confined to have sexual relations. That was what Thaddeus was for.

Thaddeus had been a sailor but now he served as a private servingman, servicing all of Horace's many, many needs and would for the rest of their lives. It was so fortunate that he had met the good Dr. April before the man packed up shop and left town. 

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