Not the Editor he expected

Brock's hands trembled as he reeled from the shock of waking up from a half year stupor as a bimbo. The outrage he felt collided with a sudden mental exhaustion and he collapsed into the nearest chair. He could not help but notice how his fat belly wobbled not unlike the ridiculously large breasts he had a few minutes ago. Then, as the absurdity of that thought occurred to him, the silver phone slipped from his shaking hand.

"Shit!" cried Brock as the device bounced off the floor.

Still out of sorts, he reached down quickly to grab the phone, accidentally brushing the screen as he did so. When he looked at the screen again a new profile stared back at him.

"Is that...Melissa?" he murmured as he stared at the image of his ex-wife. She looked perfect. A glance her her stats told Brock that she was essentially just that. Her 36"x24"x34" figure, long golden hair, and perfectly tanned skin were far from the way he remembered her, but ten years of marriage made it hard to not to recognize her. But the thing that shocked him more was the text above her profile name.

"Master User?" said Brock. "Wait -- this is Melissa's phone?!"

"Whoa! Who the hell are you?!"

Brock nearly dropped the phone again as he looked up at a tall, broad-shouldered stud with thick black hair and rugged, caramel features.

"Whu-? D-dirk?!" he stammered. "Wait! It's me Brock! Don't you remember?"

"Oh, great," said the well-dressed beefcake, "Funbags took in another delivery boy! Look, buddy, I'm not mad at you -- I know my wife has needs -- but if you don't mind I'd like to have dinner now, so hit the road. You can consider whatever you did with her your tip."

"No! I'm not a--," Brock trailed off. "Dirk, it's me I'm, er, I was Funbags! Wait! Wait a second!"

It was obvious that Dirk was about to kick his out-of-shape intruder to the curb, so Brock quickly pulled up his former husband's profile and quickly hit his reset button. A moment later, a gangly, dark haired latino man with a thick mustache and an ill-fitting suit stared at him.

"Uh, Brock?" he said. "How did...wait, you were Funbags?"

Two hours later, after both men changed their clothes, had a meal (with several beers) and began to feel a little bit more like themselves, they began to piece together what had happened. Apparently, immediately after their divorce, Brock's ex-wife got a hold of the strange silver phone and turned him and his best friend into a hyper-sexualized couple. Since Melissa was caught cheating on Brock, he won possession of almost everything they owned, and it was no secret that she hated him. The phone, however, was a mystery.

"So, Mel finds a magic phone and the first thing she does is turn you into a bimbo and me into a stud named Dirk?" said Inglesias. "I mean, I'm sorry for all the...uh, you know...sex we had, but why did she involve me in this?"

"Oh, I doubt it had much to do with you, Ing," said Brock. "I totally see her getting off on the idea of me get railed by my best friend, though. But what I don't know is where she got this thing, or how it ended up in our front yard, for that matter. But I have an idea about how to found out..."