Zack walked into a grungy modeling studio lead by a pig named Randy, clearly shoved into clothes that fit years ago. Zack just wanted a little cash. He heard about this modeling opportunity from a new teammate on the football team, John. Zack just couldn't place John as a model.
John was more than a little weird. Shortly after he joined, John became a skinhead. His locker quickly became the most rank. It was definitely the pads, since whenever you were tackled by him it was like getting hit by a wave of the stench. Not to mention the dirt that dropped of John. His uniform was almost an entire shade darker by the end of practice and games. The stains couldn't even wash off completely now.
The weirdest change by far however was when he started going fully commando, the only undergarment now a wife beater that barely draped over his jewels. And the boys knew he wore the same tank every single day, cause that wasn't the worst part. Every player recognized the dry patches that spotted the shirt from their own experience. Patches that would have disappeared if the shirt was washed. The team though was too scared to mention it, pretending to ignore it.
A few players had gone to coach, asking him to talk to John. Zack wasn't even sure if that had happened. He thought he noticed John and coach talking after practice when everyone had left. When Zack saw John in the wife beater when John was leaving, it looked as if there was a new moist spot on it. If the team approached coach about it again, coach would shut them down.
John was supposedly on the dean's list before he showed up for practice. But, most guys were convinced that John wasn't studying, tending to disappear during the nights, none of them wondering where John went.
The manager Zack followed into the studio pointed to some clothes on the ground. "Put those on, and get in front of the backdrop" He said, before sitting behind a camera setup.
Zack took a breath. If John could do it, he could do it. He put on the clothes, a pair of jeans, belt, socks. No shirt though. "This good?" He shouted, the manager nodded.
Zack stood up to the camera in front of the backdrop, widening his shoulders, flexing a little, confident in his body.
Randy gasped as he watched tendrils of hair snake across Zack's body, shoulders beef up, wider as a beard thickened onto Zacks chin. Zacks skin darkened, beaten by constant field labor.
Randy sat back, a little worried, his camera clicking. His client would be here any moment to pickup a new redneck boy, dumb, compliant. But his model was already obedient, swag, strong, not needing any help to initiate change. It barely influenced his mind, all his old memories still there, intelligence clear in his eyes.
Randy popped up from his seat, mentioning to Zack he'd be right back, a picked up pace as he waddled back to the wardrobe room.
Zack stood there for a moment alone. He ran his hands along his body, confused when he felt a prickling.
He looked down, observing a massive pelt of hair spread across his body. His brow furrowed. Hes always been this hairy, right? Working out on the fields, farm, always shirtless, sweating in these jeans. But that couldn't be right. He was on the football team, at college. He couldn't be there if he was a redneck. So why did he think he had worked on a farm?
Loud country voices boomed from the entrance of the studio, boisterous, loud. He heard a soft pit pat behind him, turning to see Randy returning, a grey sweat stained hat in hand.
"I'm going to put this on you, alright?"
"Uhh, sure?" Zack said, still confused in his predicament.
Randy forced the hat on Zacks head, tightening his hands around the crown as he brought the hat down, its brim facing back. A startled look materialized on the boys face, almost panicked.
Zack felt the tightness of the hat around his head before a new feeling flowed in. It was like heavy pressure in his head, surrounding his brain, squeezing. He flinched, the headache pushing more, and more, tension spreading across his forehead. Like a cork popping off, the pressure released, and he felt his mind relaxing, disappearing as if it were draining out.
Randy watched as Zacks expression softened, an eternal stoupor settling in, eyes glazed over, aimless, unintelligent.
"That our new farmhand, ready tah go?" One of the approaching ruralers drawled.
"All yours" Randy replied, turning Zack around as the two approached to inspect.
They started feeling up Zack, pressing his muscles, Zack vacant.
"He seems a lil empty, donchya think?" The other said, Zack looking a little confused.
"You're saying that as if its a bad thing" Randy said, quickly thinking, nervous.
The country men exchanged glances, and started to laugh. "Ha I guess it don't"
Randy let out a little chuckle letting the nerves out. The two men started laughing even harder when Zack joined in with an empty laugh.
"Hey, sent back a pic when you can, love seeing what you get them up to." The country men nodded. Randy was a little upset he didn't get a before and after pic to post, but hoped they'd be able to return the favor. He watched as they led their new boy away like a prized pig coming home.
Randy got his wish a week later. A picture popped up on his phone of the boy in the same exact attire, posing for the men. He liked the changes.
Zacks disappearance wasnt paid too much attention too. People thought it might have to do with John, but nothing clear. Zack lived happily will the men, well fed, strong, ignorant, working good labor, never wearing a shirt again proud to constantly display his work. It was a good life, simple minded, never having to worry about himself ever again
