Ernie Wells, just some perverted nerd

(Alternate Start)

It was a sullen afternoon. I was in my house, tampering with my phone; didn't have much else to do.

"Alright," I exhaled, unplugging my phone from my computer, "and that should do it..."

Beeep.... beeep....beeeeeep. Remapping 100% complete. Please confirm administrator privileges.

I slid my hand to the device and picked it up. Thanks to a bit of reverse engineering know how, I succeeded in making a custom plug-in that allowed me to retrieve photos from any phone with just a pair of texts.

"This is going to be so awesome!" Rolling back in my chair, I stare at my screen and open the application. A gaggle of giggles came from the living room, where three in-the-flesh girls were gathered, all ripe and bright sights to sore eyes. Being the son of the manager of the SUCCEED club (a program intended to help students, well, 'succeed'), these kind of after-school gatherings were sporadic, but did happen. Currently, my mom was out getting materials for whatever project they were going to work on. Meanwhile, I couldn't help but overhear.

"Oh, is that the one that broke up with Tyler?" That sounded like Tina. A brunette girl with a slender bod and a cute pixie cut, she always seemed to like taking charge, being the poster face for the club. But she was really hot, so that was fine with me.

"Yep, but supposedly he was the one who dumped her after he'd caught her cheating," said Diana next, no mistake. She was a straight-haired blondie with a great butt, and also into skating and classic late-generation 'tude. Oh how I would love to get into those pants for a quick frisk. Then the next voice chimed in.

"I wonder what the real story is." That must have been Sammy, who was an Asian of Southeast descent and was incredibly cute, with perfect skin and long black hair, and big almond eyes. Her long legs and perky breasts were to die for, and her slight softspokenness was almost as consistent as her academic marks, which tended to be high all across the board. "You never know with celebrities..."

I listened to their giggles with a smirk. That's right, ladies... you never know.

Looking back at my phone, I was suddenly distracted by a notebook on my desk by the computer. Huh, I thought, picking it up and opening it to the back cover. Is this mine? Text was scrawled across the face and I shrugged, looking it over.

As I read it, however, my eyes narrowed. It claimed to be a reality-altering book. Old Rules could be written into it that everyone had to follow and had always known as existing. New Rules, while also followed, were just that -- 'new', and so may not be accommodated by reality, or treated with the same familiarity. By writing down the name of any organization or place that had a use for rules, you could create your own rules for that place, and everybody would follow them. I laughed, my phone forgotten. Some kind of magic rulebook like this was far too cartoonish-sounding to be true.

Yet nevertheless...

Tiptoeing out of my room, I peeked into the living room. They were all splayed out in various states of lounging, Tina taking the carpet with her back on the sofa in tights and a frilly blouse while Sammy sat across from her wearing a white blouse with two blue stripes on it and a knee-length skirt, a glass table between them. Diana was seated on the sofa chair in a tight short tee and jeans as usual, leg crossed over her other in typical boyish fashion, with her calf against her thigh.

Taking out a pencil, I opened the rulebook and wrote into the first blank page.

Ernie Wells' Home

Old Rule: All panties must be removed when inside and hung on the coat rack by the front door.

When I looked up, I noticed nothing different at first. But then my eyes wandered sideways, and widened.

Sure enough, by the front door, on three hooks of the coat rack, hung three different pairs of panties. Two white ones, one having a pink smiley face on the center, and one yellow. I blinked in disbelief, and turned back to the girls, who were still chatting as amicably as ever, in the same exact positions. Meanwhile, I was about to fall out in front of them.

Did something happen? Did I really 'make' that happen? Did I just change reality? Rubbing my eyes, I looked again. Behold, the same trifecta of panties stared back at me, dangling on each hook like proud fruits off a tree.

I shook my head. It had to have been. After all...

...there's no rational way, no chance in heaven, that these girls would have had their panties there, exactly as I'd written in the notebook, on the coat rack and without either one of us having known I was going to write that in the first place! And even if they did, that was no joke they'd be willing to attempt -- not now, tomorrow, or the year after that. The chance of this being sheer coincidence was less than 5 percent!

Recovering from my shock, I broke into a grin and found my fingers clutching the book excitedly. Well well well. Maybe it was this. Maybe it was that. Who knew. The only real way to find out for sure, as the scientific method would support, was by further experimentation...