The Witch

Currently, they are running the most realistic costume, and some woman in a dirty witch costume seem to be arguing with the host.

“How could I lose this?!” the witch screams.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” the host says, “The votes were cast. You lost.”

“How could I have LOST?!” her anger seems to be growing.

“Please, can you calm down?” the host asks.

“Calm down?!” the witch asks, “How could I be calm? I really am a witch. Thus my costume has to be the most realistic.”

“Isn’t that cheating?!” someone yells from the audience.

“You weren’t supposed to know I was cheating and thus I should have won,” the witch says.

“I’m sorry, but you didn’t,” the host says, “I don’t know what you want from me.”

The witch starts to chant in a strange language. The chant has a strange rhythm to it and everyone in the building grows quiet as we all seem entranced by it. After going on like this for a few moments she stops. She then looks over the crowd with a wicked grin.

“All of you are at fault for this,” she says, “You think your costumes are so good how about you try being them for real. That’s right. I turned you all into your costumes.” Then in a large puff of smoke, she disappears, only her evil laughter remaining.

At this point, mass pandemonium ensues. People are freaking out, it seems like some people have become grotesque monstrosities while others have gained the powers of characters they have dressed as.

I feel really strange now. It’s hard to think, but I know something is wrong. I run a hand over my breasts. The line that was separating the fake breasts from my body is gone now. These are my real tits now. Also, running my hand over my tit like that felt so good.