They encounter some difficulties.

As they sped away, Jen handed Mark the bottle of liquor. "Drink."

Mark looked it over then tipped it back, downing the whole thing in one pull. When he finished, he let out a delicate burp and a hiccup. "Whew, that's harsh." He fluttered his eyelashes and leaned his seat back.

Jen drove to a drugstore about a mile away and parked around back to wait for Mark to transform. He drunkenly craned his neck around when they pulled to a stop. "Oooh, why are we stopping?"

"We're waiting."

He considered this. "Oh yeah, Grink made me stupid. He also gave me these-" he gave his breasts a hard squeeze "-so I guess that's going away. I know I'm no use and you need old Mark back. Still, I'm gonna miss em." As if to emphasize the point, he squeezed them again.

Jennifer felt a slight wave of dizziness was over her. When it cleared, she saw black nail polish at the end of her fingers. No, no, no! Mark was starting to influence her! Why wasn't he transforming? The booze should have been more than enough to destabilize his identity!

"Uh, Mark, how you feeling, buddy?"

He pouted. "Not much different. Pretty tipsy though. I think I mighta had too much." He burped again.

Jen was starting to panic. If she didn't do something soon the cognitive effects of the influence would set in. She shuddered to think what Grink's fantasy's fantasy looked like.

As if in answer to her thoughts, her phone buzzed. Picking it up, she saw a text from Mark. Shit! Mark left his phone at Grink's!

While Mark idly fondled himself in the passenger seat, Jennifer opened her text messages with trepidation. There was one new text from Mark:

we need to talk