"Freeze ray."

Tiffany’s on the phone, walking across the grass of the Old Quad, chatting to an old high school friend, when she hears a zapping sound. She tries to take another step forward, and can’t.

“Hey,” she says. “What just happened?” Her mouth’s still working, but her whole body is frozen, stuck in place. She can’t even take the phone down from her ear. She listens to the voice of her friend, and says “I can’t move! No, it isn’t funny! Yes, it’s probably some kind of prank, but that doesn’t mean… Stacey! Shut up! Listen, don’t make me bring up what happened at your wedding…”

Chad plucks the phone from her hand.

“Freeze ray,” he informs her, showing her the little blue ray gun. “Cute little gadget. Makes it so you can’t move.”

“Yes, I gathered that, Chad.”

“The boys down at the lab asked me if I wanted it so you couldn’t talk, either. But I kind of like listening to you complain. It’s cute.” Chad is unbuttoning Tiffany’s blouse as he talks. He tucks the white fabric out of the way and ties it into sort of a knot behind Tiffany’s back, revealing her strapless red bra to the curious students who have automatically gathered to watch.

He hoists her skirt up around Tiffany’s waist to expose her matching red panties, and finds a way to keep it there by tucking it into her waistband. Then, he writes ΕΝΦ SUX! In small letters across her forehead, and ΔΩΜ ROX! above and between her breasts. He snaps several pictures on Tiffany’s phone, sends them to Stacy, and posts them to all her social media accounts.

“Stacy says ‘lmao’,” he says, scrolling through Tiffany’s text messages. “Hey, she seems pretty cute.”

“She’s married, Chad.”

“Oh, well,” says Chad, admiring Tiffany’s underwear. The blushing blonde is positioned on the campus lawn, blouse open, skirt up, still stuck in phone-holding position and attracting a crowd of admirers. “Freeze ray should wear off in three hours or so, unless I deactivate it early. Plenty of time for the next bit.”

“What next bit? Chad, what are you doing?”

“I’m attaching these small metal weights to your bra and panties,” Chad explains, doing exactly that. Two of the weights, a bit like fishing sinkers, are hooked into Tiffany’s panties, the points of the hooks on the outside so they don’t scratch her skin. (Chad thinks of everything.) Two more weights are attached to the lower edges of the cups of Tiffany’s bra. “Looks good to me. Now, if Melvin’s maths are correct…”

Tiffany can feel a faint pressure on her underwear. Very faint. It’s almost too subtle to detect, but she can tell the weights are taking effect. Her bra and panties are being very, very, very slowly pulled down. Eventually, her boobs will pop out of her bra, her panties will settle around mid-thigh, and she’ll be left standing on the lawn effectively naked.

“Chad? Chad, wait! We can talk about this! Chad! Where are you going? CHAD!”