Practical Balloon Magic

(or, "Tricks, and Definitely a Treat")

The door opened and there was Sandra Bullock, wearing tight jeans, a black T-shirt with an embroidered "Witch" on it, and a black pointed witch's hat. She looked hot in a sort of pre-Ya-Ya Sisterhood sort of way. I was so stunned I forgot to say "Trick or treat."

"You're a little old for trick or treating, aren't you?" she asked me.

"I'll accept money or liquor, ma'am," I said, recovering from my surprise.

"Come on inside," she said, and turned around to shout, "Nicole! We got us a live one!"

I stepped into the house and was of course not surprised to see Nicole Kidman in an outfit matching Sandra's, looking hot in a sort of pre-"Whatever the hell she did after Eyes Wide Shut" sort of way.

"He wants money or liquor," Sandra explained.

Nicole gestured me to their living room couch. "Have a seat. I'll be right back." Before I could explain that I was joking, Nicole left for the kitchen--leaving me with a good view of her tight ass, which I would have enjoyed longer had Sandra not grabbed my arm and practically tossed me on the couch.

"Let's see what you look like," she said, yanking off my Al Gore mask.

I brushed back the hair that had been swept out of place.

"Put it back on," she told me, and I complied.

Nicole came back with what looked like a champagne bottle. Sandra looked down at it, and her face lit up, sharing what looked like a prankish smile with her friend. Nicole stuck the bottle in front of me. "Drink." It was not a request.

Well, I knew a set-up when I saw one, but hell, like I'm going to ruin the evening for Sandra Bullock and Nicole Kidman? Bullshit. I practically swallowed half the bottle before I had to stop for air.

Nicole took the bottle from my hand, and she and Sandra stood back, waiting for something to happen.

I belched.

I don't think that was what they were waiting for.

"If that was supposed to turn me into a frog or something, it didn't work," I boldly proclaimed.

"I know a frog story I like," said Nicole. "This frog tries to blow himself up bigger than an ox--"

Sandra interrupted, "And he blows and blows and blows--"

"--and inflates and inflates and inflates--"

"--and gets bigger and bigger and bigger--!"

"--and blows and blows until--"

They said it together: "--he POPS!" They giggled at each other.

"I don't see where this is heading," I said.

My stomach billowed out from under my shirt.

"Oh," I said dumbly, before my arms jutted out to my sides, having been forced upward by my expanding midsection. I was inflating in all directions, the sound of hissing air mixing with the sounds of my shredding costume. Sandra and Nicole just smiled as my extremities puffed up--I honestly can't say what happened to all my extremities, but definitely my arms and legs--and my body became rounder and larger as I filled up the couch, later exceeding it in size. I began to let out rubbery squeaking sounds. "Excuse me," I said about the embarrassing noises.

"Don't sweat it," Nicole assured me. Sandra just smirked.

Before I knew it, I was huge rubber ball and I noticed Sandra and Nicole getting farther away. I was beginning to float upwards like an out of control helium balloon. As I floated upward, I continued to expand like a balloon, and I twisted helplessly around in the air for a few moments before I felt my back bounce against the ceiling. The hissing continued, and I looked down at the smiling women, bracing myself for the big bang. "I'm still getting bigger," I found myself saying.

"This one's observant," said Sandra.

"I'm going to pop," I said calmly.

"The man speaks the truth," said Nicole. And they watched me grow with anticipation on their faces.

I let out another loud squeak, but I didn't apologize for it. I just prepared for the inevitable result of overinflating a balloon...

Then the doorbell rang.

"Hold that thought," said Nicole. And just like that, the hissing from my body stopped.

She opened the door to see a bunch of kids in Holloween costumes. "Trick or treat!" they shouted. Nicole bent over to talk to the kids, giving me another nice view. I didn't bother to shout for help. In the first place, what could the kids do? Besides, most seemed to think that the Al Gore blimp in the living room was part of the Halloween decor.

For the next hour, Sandra and Nicole ignored me, instead directing their energies to placating trick-or-treaters, occasionally giving me a good long view at the backs of their jeans. I decided not to call attention to myself by speaking. Presumably they knew there was a huge balloon floating above their couch; and I figured, the longer they were distracted, the better for me.

A while later, Sandra pulled out an old turntable and began playing several old scratchy Holloween 45's. Thankfully, none of them were "Monster Mash." But after a rousing rendition of "Zombie Jamboree," I heard a song that I vaguely remembered from my childhood. I recalled that it had a line about kids eating so much candy that they were about to burst.

I braced for the line, as if hearing it would cause me to burst, too.

"--kids about to burst!" There it was.

"--kids about to burst!" There it was again.

"--kids about to burst!" The old 45 was skipping.

Sandra and Nicole stood in front of the turntable, but they didn't lift the needle. Instead, Sandra grabbed Nicole's hips and they did the limbo, singing, "Kids about to burst! Kids about to burst! Kids about to burst!"

They laughed and danced, never tiring of the line. I had to admit it was kind of catchy. That is, until Nicole pointed up at me for the first time in the last hour, and she started to sing at me, but she changed the lyric to, "You're about to burst! You're about to burst! You're about to burst!"

They sang it together, pointing at me and laughing. "You're about to burst!"

"YOU'RE ABOUT TO BURST!"

"YOU'RE ABOUT TO BURST!!"

I still wasn't sure where this was heading.

Just then, the hilarity stopped. "Look!" said Sandra, pointing out the window.

I don't know how they were visible--it was dark outside, after all--yet I could clearly see three masked individuals run past the window holding toilet paper. I saw a mummy, a werewolf, and a ghoul--and, like me, they were a little old for trick-or-treating. But judging by the rolls of TP, they weren't here for treats.

"Not this year, you little shits!" said Sandra, and she ran outside.

I heard three muffled yelps, a poof!-type sound, followed by more hissing sounds. Sandra re-entered the house, carrying three full, tightly inflated pear-shaped balloons. Each balloon had an intricate design painted on them: One was a mummy. One was a werewolf. One was a ghoul.

Man, what a coincidence.

Nicole walked up to the balloons, grabbed the mummy balloon and spoke to it. "Which one egged our car last year?"

She held the balloon to her ear. I didn't hear anything. But the ghoul balloon seemed to inch away slightly before Sandra caught him. Nicole released the mummy balloon, and with a quick thrust of her fingernail, the ghoul balloon burst into shreds. Sandra applauded.

"What about these two?" Nicole asked.

Sandra put the werewolf balloon on the floor. Nicole smiled. She took Sandra's hand, and they both sat their tight, round butts on the tight, round balloon, which squeaked from the strain. They giggled. And then they bounced. And bounced again. Harder. Higher. Each time, the balloon let out a squeak that sounded like a human moan. But they bounced and giggled and bounced and bounced and...

POP! Their cute butts hit the floor and they laughed.

The last balloon, the mummy balloon, batted against the door, as if it wanted to get out.

Sandra got up and grabbed the balloon. She ran her finger over it, causing the stretched rubber to squeak loudly. "I made him squeal!" she said, and they laughed again. Then Sandra untied the mouth of the balloon. "I think he wants to be bigger," she announced. "I going to blow him up!"

Just like in every wet dream I had after first seeing Demolition Man, I watched Sandra Bullock blow into this huge, firm balloon. I didn't think it could be inflated much larger, but I was wrong. It got noticeably bigger. She puffed again, her cheeks plumping up as she pumped the balloon fuller, causing it to slowly but visibly expand. Soon the balloon was downright huge, almost as big as Sandra herself. But Sandra kept blowing and blowing. And the balloon kept growing and growing.

"--kids about to burst!" the record reminded us.

"--kids about to burst!"

"--kids about to burst!"

"Pop him," said Nicole softly. "Make him pop."

Sandra blew and blew, wrapping her arm around the giant balloon to keep it from escaping. She puffed and puffed and puffed, and it grew and grew and GREW...

BANG!

Suddenly, Sandra was holding empty air.

A few more kids arrived at the door, and Nicole handed out candy (bending over to examine the kids' costumes--thank you, thank you, Nicole) while Sandra finally changed the record. Oooh, I always liked "The Raven" by The Alan Parsons Project.

The night wore on, and the trick-or-treaters diminished to a trickle before fading into Holloween history. Sandra took down the orange and black Holloween balloons from the porch and brought them inside, where she and Nicole played with them for a while, batting them around catching them. Hugging them and squeezing them.

They played and talked and laughed and drank for a while, having gone back to ignoring me. Sandra sat on a balloon and popped it. She giggled but stopped when she saw Nicole eyeing the wine bottle they had given me earlier, the one that was to blame for my current inflated condition.

Sandra's eyes gleamed. "Go for it," she gently coaxed.

Nicole grabbed the bottle and quaffed it down.

"Oh, yeah!" said Sandra. "Guzzle it! C'mon, guzzle it!"

Nicole finished the bottle and wiped her mouth, laying back on the floor. She looked up at me and I down at her. Our eyes met. She kept looking at me even as her stomach bloated outward, as if she were suddenly pregnant. She laid her arms out, spreading her arms and legs, welcoming the expansion that was to follow. Her breasts swelled, growing tighter and fimer, her body pushing upward as she filled with air, the "Witch" T-shirt quickly ripping to shreds, the button of her jeans snapping open, only to be torn apart as her plumping legs burst through the cloth. Her middle became a huge round ball, and she just looked up at me as she grew and grew, her chubby arms and legs disappearing into her round center, leaving only her face, hands and feet. She swelled farther, grew bigger, larger, tighter...

Sandra laughed and laughed. The hissing grew louder as Nicole filled up more and more of the room, forcing Sandra to take refuge in the doorway to the kitchen. Nicole kept her eyes locked with mine as she inflated, inflated, inflated. Soon she was as big as I was. And then she quickly got even bigger. And bigger. The giant, flesh-colored balloon with Nicole Kidman's face just kept getting larger and larger, and I watched her round middle getting closer to mine.

She finally inflated so big that our equators were touching. Her skin felt like balloon rubber, but it was warm and sensual. We pressed together tighter as she continued to billow outward, pushing into me harder into the ceiling. The pressure built. She grew larger. The space grew more confining. She still got bigger. The hissing grew louder. Our bodies pressed harder together, squeaking like competing balloons. And she still got bigger. And the pressure built as I got pushed tighter...

...tighter...

...tighter...

...tighter!!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMM!!!!

I flinched.

The room was swallowed by silence as bits of flesh-colored balloon fragments drifted around the room. Sandra edged her way back into the living room.

"BOO!!"

Sandra spun around, and there was Nicole in the kitchen behind her. They both laughed hysterically.

Witches. You gotta love 'em.

The two went back to their balloon play; but it was getting late, and they meant business. They squeezed the balloons till they popped. They sat on them till they burst. They stuck them with their fingernails and made them explode. And best of all, they put a few in their mouths and blew, blew, blew...and the balloons went pop! Pop! POP!

Finally there was only one balloon left. Me.

They just looked up at me and smirked. Then Sandra said, "Bigger."

And just like that, I grew several inches bigger.

Nicole told me, "Bigger."

So I got bigger, expanding another few inches.

"Bigger!" Sandra ordered me.

So I got bigger.

"Bigger!" said Nicole.

I inflated more.

They said it in unison: "Bigger! Bigger! BIGGER!! BIGGER!! BIGGER!!"

I felt my body swell and swell and swell, reaching my absolute limit...

"BIGGER!!"

 

POP!!

 

My eyes shot open, the dream having ended. "Crap, it was only a dream," I said. I hate dream endings--they had to be the ultimate cop-out for writers.

Then I looked over in the bed next to me. Next to me was a balloon animal. "Is that a puppy?"

"Puppy? You idiot, that's supposed to be a horse!"

I sat up. Sitting on the end of the bed, their tight asses sinking softly into my mattress, were Sandra and Nicole.

"You are so popped," said Nicole.

And then my body inflated like a balloon, rapidly getting bigger toward the inevitable result.

Witches. God, I love 'em.

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