Kurt rolled our of bed one Friday morning and instantly stubbed his big toe. "Shit," he muttered, scratching the small of his back. He stopped mid-scratch, realizing that something was off. "Shit," he said again, hearing a voice different from his own. He rubbed his eyes and finally noticed that he wasn't in his own room. He had no recollection of getting there, and wondered if he had been drinking the night before. Except he hadn't- he remembered everything from the previous day up to going to sleep. He could even remember the details of his breakfast and what clothes he was wearing. But going to sleep in this room? He couldn't remember it.

He scanned the room for a minute, trying to guess where the bathroom was so he could see the owner of this strange voice. Thankfully, he saw a nightlight glowing dimly from an adjacent room, and found a full bathroom there. Looking in the mirror, Kurt was fairly sure that his heart stopped. He knew the round face and dark eyes anywhere. Staring back at him was the face of none other than Dave Karofsky.

At the same time, Karofsky was examining Kurt's face up close in his magnifying mirror. Karofsky searched the bottles and vials on the counter top for some kind of basic face wash or cleansing soap. All he could find was a tube of what he assumed to be moisturizer, although he couldn't read the French on the label. "Dammit David," he thought to himself. "Four years of French class and you still can't remember the word for 'soap.'" He reached to the tube, but his hand stopped short. He realized just how small Kurt was: the ceiling seemed miles above his head, and the floor so close. This was going to take some getting used to.

Kurt ran into Karofsky's dad while exploring the house. "Ready for school, Dave?" He asked.

"Who? Oh, I mean, right. Absolutely. Can't wait." Kurt replied, tripping over his own feet.

"Careful there, buddy. You feeling alright?"

"I'm just fine Mr.- dad. I'm fine. Just a little groggy I guess."

Mr. Karofsky laughed. "Staying up all night looking at naked ladies on the internet, are you?" He elbowed Kurt in the ribs.

Kurt laughed nervously. "Well, I guess I better run. See you, Mr.- Dad."

"Now hold on there." Mr. Karofsky stated sternly, and Kurt was sure that his stomach was about to drop out of his body. He turned around slowly, preparing himself for whatever was about to happen.

"Yes, sir?"

Mr. Karofsky shrugged. "Are you going to walk all the way to school, or are you going to let your dad drive you?" He let out a hearty chuckle, and Kurt followed him to the car.

Karofsky, on the other hand, had never been so thrilled to have once gotten lost in Kurt's neighborhood. It took some rearranging and shifting to get used to being so far away from the roof of the car, but he managed to find his way from Kurt's house to McKinley. Pulling into the parking lot, he saw his father's Camry driving off. He parked the car as fast as he could, and barreled towards his own body. The trip took longer than expected on Kurt's short legs, but he reached himself before he could get through the door.

"What the hell is this?" He asked, shoving at his own back. Kurt turned around and glared at him.

"How the fuck should I know?" Kurt replied. "I woke up in this monstrosity."

"That's my goddam body you're talking about, Hummel. I work hard for that figure."

"Well, obviously you're not working hard enough. What on earth is this?" Kurt hissed, smacking his belly, which wiggled. "That ain't muscle."

"I happen to like the way I look. At least I have arms, shit. How can you even pick up a pencil with these twigs?"

Kurt shoved Karofsky, sending him crashing to the ground. He tilted his head sideways and smirked. "How do you like it now, bitch?"

Karofsky glared at him. "You just wait, Hummel. You may be stronger than me now, but I've got your body." He brushed off Kurt's arms as he stood up. "And I know some nasty, dirty things Santana's always wanted to try in the sack. I just might give her the chance."

Kurt opened his mouth to speak, but Karofsky was already heading inside the building, shrugging as if to say, "so what?"