A strange feeling comes over Drew...

A two. Drew nudged the fish piece up a couple of spaces before hesitantly reaching for the deck. He looked to Jen once more for strength. He flipped the card over, and read:

"No nasty mutations, you lucky guy / Playing with the apples of your eye / They might not be who you expect them to be / The apples that have fallen from your tree."

"No mutations?" said Jen. "Drew, how do you feel?"

"I... don't know?" said Drew. "Normal, I think?"

He was still not certain of the cause of Jen's transformation; his half-formed hypothesis was too supernatural to accept based on a single happenstance.

"Does your stomach feel normal?" Jen asked.

"I think so..."

He wanted to feel relieved, but that 'no mutations' line felt like it was taunting him. So Jen's enlargement did have something to do with the game, but it decided not to do anything to keep him guessing?

"Mom? Dad?"

Drew looked up. Erin was observing his and Jen's discussion with clear concern.

"Is there something you're not telling us?"

"What do you mean?" said Jen shiftily, "We're not hiding anything!"

Jen turned to Drew.

"Right, dear? Dear?"

Drew stared across the table towards Erin like he hadn't seen her in years. She reminded him so much of Jen sometimes; all the dolling up she did when they were first dating... he tried to picture those memories in his head, but they seemed so flat and quaint. The memory of their first date carried as much excitement as his memory of taking his own mother out to dinner. Erin was so vibrant, so alluring...

"Dear?" Jen repeated.

Drew sprung straight up and stiffly sidled over to Erin.

"Sweetie, you've got something on your face. Allow me."

He cupped her chin in his hand and scanned each side of her face. He never felt more lucky to have such a beautiful daughter.

Erin blushed. "Dad...?"

"Ah... very messy," said Drew, "it's all over your face, let me..."

He plucked a napkin from the table and covered his hand, then instead of the precision scrubbing that one usually employed in face-wiping, he stroked Erin's cheeks and neck through the thin cloth. Drew remembered another memory, once that he'd thought silly, but he was beginning to see in a whole new light.

Two years ago, her senior year, he caught her in her room changing. The way she looked at him, squealed in embarrassment... it was the way she was blushing right now, just like back then. He wished he'd done something, made a move. He'd have entered the room instead of leaving, complimented her on how clean and shapely her body was. She'd be embarrassed, of course, even more so as he closed the door and helped her continue to undress. She might insist that he leave, but 'no,' he'd explain. They were both adults now, and he wanted to teach her how to satisfy the lucky guy she'd someday meet. He'd put his hand on her lower back... maybe a bit lower... push her towards the bed, lay her down like he used to when she was a child, spread her legs, and...

"Dad."

"Uh—"

Her sharp tone and furrowed brow indicated that he had pushed beyond the boundaries embarrassing parent behavior into annoying parent territory. He withdrew his hand.

"Sorry, sweetie-cakes!" he said, "got a little distracted; you're fine now!"

He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and jumped back into his chair. The entire table was looking at him like he'd grown a third eye. He hadn't kissed either of his kids since elementary school, and "sweetie-cakes?" "Sweetie-cakes" just wasn't in his vocabulary. Jen had never in their decades together ever heard him use the word "sweetie" in a compound word. Drew's heart was in his throat. He the warmth of his daughter's cheek on his lips for a split-second, and he wanted more. Erin was so sexy, and he...

Drew came crashing back down to reality like a Space-X rocket, with every part of his being. Every part, that is, except for the one part standing tall and throbbing in his pants. He was getting hot and bothered... no, he was getting rock hard over his daughter, his own daughter.

Jen still felt apprehensive, but it didn't occur to her in the slightest what might have happened to Drew, if anything had even happened. So she turned to her son, causing her neck fat to jiggle.

"It's your turn, Leo."