A dish best served cold

Okay, Brock, keep it together. You've were magically turned into a stupid bimbo with a hyper-libido and a mad-on for your former best friend. But you're better now. You could run away. You could bash Dirk's head in when he walks in. No, no. That's not me, even after all this. Besides, what if he does it again? Is he a wizard? Or is it this phone?

Brock took a look at the silver phone again. The profile for "Funbags McDiddle" was gone. He inspected all the information about himself again, which was much more valuable now that he could read again. The profile said the following:

Name: Brock Blumfeld

Sex: Male Age: 38

Height: 5'9" Weight: 181 lbs.

Measurements: 34"x 41"x 38"

Hair Color: Brown Hair Style: Short/Parted

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Marital Status: Single

Penis Size: 3.2" Flaccid, 5.6" Erect

The rest of the information dealt with relationships, interests, and life achievements (of which there were very few), but it looked like just about anything else could be entered. Remembering how, well, stupid, he felt as Funbags, Brock decided to write in "genius intelligence." The moment he finished, he realized two things: first, the device was definitely capable of transforming a person, and second, he could totally rule the world with it.

"But would that make me just as bad as Dirk?" he asked himself. "Wait a second...Dirk? There's no way that asshole's real name is Dirk Wood."

With the help of his new brain power, Brock easily figured out how to navigate the device in his hand, and in seconds he pulled up the original profile for his former best friend (and husband).

"Inglesias Hernandez?" said Brock. "You changed that so you could sound like a cheesy porn star? Okay, whatever. The question is, what do I do to you now?"

As he whispered those words, Brock's blood ran cold at the sound of the front door handle turning. His former husband was home!