Date: Sat, 22 Mar 1997 23:46:41 -0600

From: jerthomp@badlands.nodak.edu (Jeremy Thompson)

Subject: SRU: Hair Tonic









        Well, here's another one, a little different than my previous story,

and, I think, quite a bit better.  I don't haev much to say other than

something I should have said wiht my first SRU story and that is to thank

Bill Hart for creating the SRU universe and everybody else that contributed

to it.  That's all i have to say here, there'll be a little more at the

bottom but anyway here's the story:





SRU: Hair Tonic



	Mortimer Smythe was going bald and he didn't like it.  Not one bit.  He had

tried everything her could find to remedy his rapidly receding hairline but

it was all for naught as, month by month, fraction of an inch by fraction of

an inch, his hairline crawled away from his forehead, seeking to find what

happened on the back of his head perhaps, Mortimer mused in his more

cheerful moods.

	On this day Mort, as his friends called him, all two or three of them, was

walking through the mall.  He had gone to pick up some everyday stuff and

had decided to explore a bit.  As he was walking a stray shaft of sunlight

from the skylight overhead reflected off a sign to his right, drawing Mort's

attention to it.  There, written on a large window, was the curious title

"Spells R Us" the lettering seemed to be very ornate to Mort, and yet he had

the feeling that it might not always be this way, but this thought didn't

stay in his mind for very long, in fact, by the time he got to the door, it

was completely forgotten save for the dim feeling that this store might be

more than it seems.  As Mort opened the door to walk in this too had almost

departed his mind and he thought nothing of it until much later.



	When Mort walked into the store his eyes went wide with astonishment, this

store had everything.  In the back of his head Mort also thought that

perhaps the store's insides were larger than its outside, much larger, but

like his thoughts about the sign, this too was forgotten before it even

registered in his conscious mind.  He was knocked out of his staring by a

voice that said, "Hello Mort."

	He started a bit and then looked to see an old man in a bathrobe walking

towards him.  "What, how'd you know my name?" he said.

	The old man just ignored the question and said, "Is there anything I can do

for you?"

	"Oh I was just looking," Mort said, and then he chuckled and scratched at

his thinning pate, "Unless you have a cure for baldness somewhere around

here," he added.

	"You've come to the right place Mort, hair is one of my specialties, from

taking it off to putting it on," the old man said with a smile, "How exactly

would you want your baldness cured, new hair or just re-growing the existing

hair, I could get the color to change too, perhaps something in a blonde?"

	Mort just stared for a while, "could it really be true?" he thought to

himself.  Then he thought, "Nah, can't be I've tried everything and nothing

works," to this a little voice at the back of his mind replied, "so why not

try this too, it can't hurt can it?"  Mort's mind was made up, he would try

yet another remedy.

	He looked to the old man and said, "Sure, why not?  So you have anything to

recommend?"

	"Well," the old man replied, "I'll personally guarantee everything that

I'll give you, if you don't have a full head of hair when the treatment's

done you can have your money back or exchange for another option."

	Mort did a double take, this was too good to be true, he couldn't lose.  He

said, "Okay, you said something about re-growing hair, let's try those first."

	"Wise decision," the old man said, "wait here while I go to the backroom to

get what you need," the old man turned to leave but then looked over his

shoulder and added, "Feel free to look around for the store, just be

careful, some of these items are very rare,"  He turned again and walked to

the backroom.



	When the old man reached the back of the store he looked over his supplies

and pondered just what formula he should sell to Mort.  He had plenty of

potions and gadgets to choose from but his conscience was troubling him,

Mort had seemed so earnest in his desire to get his hair back.  "But," the

old man thought, "that's a very vain thing to want, perhaps I should give

him something to really be vain about."

	The old mans mind was made up, he had decided what might happen to Mort if

he misuses the potion, but his conscience once again reared its head and he

changed the formula just a bit from its original configuration, just enough

to change what he wanted to change.   He was satisfied, now once he sold the

concoction to Mort, his costumer took his fate into his own hands.  He

walked out to sell Mr. Smythe his hair tonic.



	In the main portion of the store Mort was browsing through the vast

collection of, well, stuff, that the shop held, from the mundane to the

mystic this shop had everything, there were even a few costumes in display

cases waiting for Halloween to come around once again.  His eyes traveled

along the shelves and came to rest upon a rack of movies, he walked over to

the case and perused its titles.  His eyes caught upon a copy of Barbarella

and he chuckled a bit, "Who'd wanna buy that?" he thought to himself.

	He had just started to look at some more of them when the old man said from

behind him, "Those aren't for sale."

	"What, why?" Mort asked.

	"They're, well, they're unpredictable, its a new format that still has a

few bugs in it."

	"Oh, okay, got it."

	"Here's your tonic," the old man said, "that will come to fifty dollars."

	Mort started a bit at the price but didn't say anything, after all, he was

also getting a guarantee to go with it.  He followed the old man to his old

cash register had paid the money.  "How do I use this stuff?" he asked.

	The old man looked at him and said, "Very carefully," and then he chuckled

as if he had made a joke.  Mort didn't get it so he just waited fro the

spell to end.  The old man quickly regained what little control he had lost

and said, "Take an eyedropper and apply ten drops to your tongue each night

for a week."

	"My tongue?" Mort asked, "why on my tongue, I don't need to have hair there."

	"This potion works internally Mortimer, it should also have a few other

beneficial cosmetic effects as well."

	Mort's curiosity was peaked, "What do you mean cosmetic changes?" he asked.

	"Oh, not much, a few wrinkles should disappear had your skin might a little

healthier in general, you see this stuff works by healing the skin, you heal

the skin you heal the roots, you heal the roots you get new hair."

	Mort couldn't see anything wrong with this statement so he just said that

that was okay.  He thanked the old man for his advice and took the bag of

materials and started to walk out of the store, as he did the old man's

voice came from behind him, "Be sure to only use ten drops a night, and then

only for a week, and be sure to call me if anything goes wrong, my number is

on receipt in the bag."

	Mort thanked the man once again and walked on  out the door.



	When he got home he was tired enough to go to bed right away, he only

stopped long enough to tale his first dose of the potion before dropping

into a deep sleep.  His dreams were filled with images of full heads of

hair, long, short, medium length, and all the colors that hair could be from

white to black.

	When he awoke he rushed to his bathroom to see what had happened, he

couldn't believe it, his hairline was no longer receding it was moving forward!

	He examined his new hair with awe, it was a little lighter than his older

black hair, and it was finer too, almost silky.  But in his excitement at

the growth of  his hair these small details were quickly passed off as being

from the fact that this hair was new while his other hair was older.

	At work that day he was amazed at the compliments he received, how he

looked younger, that his hair seemed fuller than it had been for ages.  He

rushed through his day with a feeling of euphoria, enjoying both his new

hair and that it was noticed.  He found himself smoothing down his hair and

touching it whenever he could.  He still couldn't believe how quickly his

hair had regrown.  He had been skeptical when the old man said to only use

the formula for a week but now he believed entirely that he could have a

full head of hair in a week.

	He rushed home that night, his excitement and anticipation building with

each mile.  He could barely contain himself to wait until going to sleep to

use the formula, but he heeded the old man's directions exactly and took his

ten drops right before he dropped off to sleep.



	The next morning he was once again startled by how  much of his hair had

reappeared.  He had almost a full head of hair now and his face looked

younger too.  It was like he was growing younger with each dose, but this

thought, like the other small differences were quickly disregarded in his

excitement, after all these years of seeing his hair flee from his forehead

it was now rushing towards it at a phenomenal rate.

	That day went much like the last and he barely noticed all the comments on

his new look.  He once again rushed home to use the wonderful formula.  His

sleep was filled once more with dreams of hair this time the hair was

attached to faces and heads, he couldn't see the people whose hair it was,

the only impression he got was one of youth.



	If he remembered these dreams at all when he awoke he quickly passed it off

as an odd dream drawn from his anticipation.  His inspection in the mirror

that morning revealed that his hairline was almost back to where it was

before he started losing it.  It was still a little thin throughout but it

covered more of his head than had been covered for years.  He almost noticed

that he didn't need a shave as much as he usually did but his preoccupied

mind told him that this was merely because his beard was growing lighter

just like his hair was.

	His co-workers couldn't believe the difference in Mort from just the week

before, he smiled, he was soft-spoken to everyone, he had become an all

around nice guy.  If he seemed a little pre-occupied with his appearance,

his hair specifically well that could be ignored.   They liked this younger

happier Mortimer Smythe.



	That night was almost a repeat of the last, and when he awoke he saw that

his hair was filling out and had almost returned to its original hairline.

The lighter color was spreading throughout his hair now going from black to

dark brown to light brown.

	When he awoke on the fifth day he noticed that his hair was almost entirely

light colored, not blonde by any means but a very definite light brown, he

hardly needed a shave that day but he didn't notice he was still riding a

wave of euphoria at his newly regrown hair.

	He barely noticed that all of his wrinkles had disappeared or that his face

was almost as smooth as it had been when he was in college.  He also had

grown deaf to most of his co-workers surprised comments although he would

occasionally praise Spells R Us with grand terms.



	That night he celebrated, he did this by going out on the town traveling to

a few bars that he had frequented before.  He received yet another sharp

surprise when he reached his first destination, he was carded, after years

of going without it was quite a shock.  He spent the rest of the night

traveling to different places, he would get carded, have one or two drinks,

and then go someplace else to get carded again.  He stopped after the fourth

time though, he didn't seem to be able to hold his liquor as well as he had

just the week before.  

	He hurried home after that and took his dose of the formula.  The only

thing was that his intoxicated body didn't have quite as much dexterity as

his sober one did and he added a few drops to many, not much only three or four.

	That night his dreams returned, the images of hair had one difference

though, there was only female heads sporting that luscious hair on this

night.  They were the long full heads of hair that he had always found

attractive, the only other thing that he might have remembered was that all

the hair colors seemed to be very light, redheads blondes and a few with

light brown hair strikingly similar to his own hair color featured

prominently in his dreams.



	When he struggled out of unconsciousness that afternoon sporting a heavy

hangover he was unsurprised at how he felt, he had really been drunk that

night and now he was paying the price.  He staggered off to the bathroom to

empty his bladder, thankful that, while hungover, he still wasn't

worshipping the porcelain god right now.  His bleary eyes didn't notice that

his body hair seemed to be thinner or that his hands seemed somehow finer.

	Realization that something was wrong only came when he looked in the

mirror.  He was no longer anywhere near bald, in fact he now had hair down

past his shoulders that tickled at the back of his neck when he turned it.

The other thing that came to his attention was that it was entirely that

light brown color it had been edging towards save for a few streaks of an

even lighter almost blonde color.

	He splashed water on his face to bring himself to a more wakeful state.  He

received another surprise when he did this, he didn't have a beard anymore,

in fact his whole face seemed much, much softer.  His face was still his own

the same eyes rested under the same brows, his thin lips still stretched

tight under his nose.  He still looked like he used to before all this

happened, younger yes, and sporting a full head of wavy hair, but other than

that, nothing had changed.  The brief instant when his hand had shook on the

tenth drop of formula came to the front of his mind.

	"I must have OD'ed," he though to himself, "Not much, just enough to speed

up the process, maybe push it overboard a bit, but by no means is this a bad

thing."

	On the tail of that thought came another, "I should call the old man, ask

what I should do, see if this is too much."

	Mort reached into the Spells R Us bag and pulled out the receipt, the

number was on it just like the old man had said.  Mort's hangover had

disappeared completely by the time he reached the phone by his bed.  He sat

down and dialed the number.

	As it rang his free hand idly went up to his hair and twirled it around his

finger.  Just before Mort noticed what he was doing a voice came over the

line, "Hello, Mort, what can I do for you?" it was the old man.

	Mort's free hand dropped to his lap and he said, "Well, you know that

potion you gave me to regrow my hair? well I seem to have taken a tad more

than ten drops last night."

	"Just how many is a tad Mort?" the old man sounded a bit...anxious, was the

only word that Mort could come up with.

	"It was about three or four I guess," Mort said.

	"And what are the side effects Mort?"

	Mort wasn't surprised at the old man's knowledge of the situation, in fact

he seemed surprised that he needed to ask at all, but he replied anyway,

"Well, I seem to have grown hair down past my shoulders, it also seems that

I've had quite an extensive dye job too, all of my hair is a very light

brown, almost blonde."

	"Hmmm," the old man said, and then there was a pause, "Well, I don't think

there will he any problem, but just to be on the safe side I want you to

only take a half dose tonight," and then he paused again, "You don't sound

upset about it Mort," he said finally.

	"Upset, no, I guess not, in fact, I love the new look, after going so long

with almost no hair it seems wonderful to have such an abundant amount, I

was just calling to tell you and ask what I should do is all."

	"Okay Mort, give me a call tomorrow when you get the final results, I will

want to know how this turns out," with that statement the old man hung up

the phone.  Mort stared at the receiver for a while and then put it back in

its cradle.



	He spent the rest of his day sitting around and watching TV, there wasn't

much on so he spent most of his time flipping channels.  After a while he

got up and fixed some food for himself, his hair kept on getting in the way

but he didn't mind the constant reminder, his only concession to controlling

it was to use a rubberband to put it in a ponytail when he was washing dishes.

	By the time he had finished with that it was time for Mystery Science

Theater 3000, he had got the Scifi channel specifically for this reason.

Tonight's movie was Deathstalker, it was very edited, the scifi channel

might have been on cable but it still couldn't get away with much.  When it

was done at midnight he decided to take a shower and go to sleep.

	He had a hard time washing his newly grown hair but he did as good a job as

he could.  The air was misty and the floor was wet as he stepped out of the

shower, he walked carefully over to the counter as he toweled himself off,

he didn't want to slip on the tiles.

	He reached into the bad that had sat on his bathroom counter fro a week and

prepared to take his last dose of the wonderful hair restoring potion.

"Five drops," he reminded himself, "Only five drops, and no more."  He took

the eyedropper in one hand and the bottle in the other and tipped his head

back to receive the first drop.

	It was at that time that he slipped.

	He fell crashing to the floor and both the bottle and the eyedropper flew

into the air.  Where they landed was perhaps dumb luck or perhaps it was

fate, the open bottle, its contents flying through the air, landed in Mort's

mouth, the same mouth that had been open in an "O" of surprise as he fell.

His mouth filled with the contents of the bottle and, after reflexively

swallowing, his mind faded into darkness as the potion worked its magic

through out his body.

	On that night he dreamed again of women's faces and hair, the only change

was that in each case, he was the woman.  With hair down to the bottom of

their well-rounded behinds they were all beautiful, but in each face he saw

his own.  With this realization he started awake, and what greeted his eyes

was a shock, but from the fading images of his dreams, it was no great surprise.

	He tried to get up but felt a pulling on his head, he realized that, while

it was shoulder length just the night before, his hair was now long enough

that he was sitting on it.  He shifted his behind a bit and realized that

the changes went farther than his hair, for he felt larger there too.  He

got up to look in the mirror, he felt a weight shift on his chest as he did

so but ignored it until he could look in the mirror.

	His own face greeted him when he looked into the mirror, it was changed in

subtle ways that he couldn't quite place, his cheekbones a little higher,

his brows arched a tiny bit more, his lips perhaps just a bit fuller, all of

these combined somehow to form a stunningly beautiful woman.  He brought his

attention to his hair and found that it was now quite long, it was still the

same color that it was the night before though.

	He steeled hi nerves and brought his attention to the areas below his head.

What greeted him were two large breasts, not artificially large like a porn

star or anything but still big, firm too, Mort found as he touched them, he

stopped as soon as he started though, and carried his inspection down to the

rest of his body, from his breasts his eyes traveled down to his flat

stomach and on to his now much thinner waist.  He passed quickly over his

groin, skipping that part until he had to look, his hips spread out from his

waist filling out into smooth curves and leading into very long almost

perfect legs.

	From his eye level he guessed that he was still the same six foot two that

he had been the night before, though why this should have changed he wasn't

sure.  Finally he brought his attention Down to his crotch, it

looked...empty was the only word he could come up with, that smooth expanse

of light hair.  He brought his hand down to it just to make sure that what

had happened was complete.  One touch of his new sex brought that

realization to the forefront, he was surprised at the amount of sensitivity

he had there and quickly stopped any further exploration of the region.

	He realized what he had to do now, he had to see the old man, he was behind

this somehow.  With that realization all of the little things he had

disregarded came back and he staggered with shock, all of his changes made

sense, someone drinking the whole potion would probably be changed just as

he was, but sins he had been taking such small doses the effects were only

the small things, mainly hair but a small part of it also occurred in his skin.

	He decided to get dressed and head to Spells R Us.  He walked back into his

bedroom and tried to find clothes that would fit him.  He finally decided on

some sweatpants with a drawstring and a sweatshirt to go with it.  His

shorts fell down to his hips but stayed put once they got there, they looked

odd on his new anatomy but they were the best he could do.  Since his sweats

had no pockets he grabbed a fanny pack he used fro jogging and stuffed his

wallet and keys into that.  He left for the mall.



	He drove carefully on his way, he wouldn't want to get pulled over without

any ID, he certainly couldn't use his old drivers license.  When he got to

the mall he headed straight for the store.  As he walked he noticed the

appreciative glances from the men in the mall and he realized that he very

obviously needed a bra, he put this thought to the back of his mind because

he had reached Spells R Us.

	He saw two beautiful blondes walk out of the store as he walked to the

door, their every move screaming "Bimbo" as they looked about wide-eyed and

giggling, he paid them no mind except fro the fact that he was very

attracted to the two, his body might have changed but his mind hadn't.

	He walked into the store and as he did the old man's voice called out,

"Hello Mort, had an accident I see."

	"Yeah, you could say that," Mort said, he then told the old man the whole

story, from slipping in the bathroom to seeing the two blondes outside the

store, he finished by saying, "Well, you caused this, what can you do about it?"

	"Well, there are a few ways I could go," the old man said, "One is that I

could reverse all effects that the potion had on you."

	"You mean I'd go back to being bald?"

	"Yes, exactly."

	"What are the other options?"

	"Well one is to add the missing component of the spell, the one I removed

because I felt sorry fro you."

	"And what's the missing component?"

	"You know those two blondes you saw leaving here?"

	"Yeah, what about them?"

	"Bimbos, weren't they Mort?"

	"Yeah, that's the impression I got, but what does that have to do with me

unless the missing ingredient was..." he stopped speaking and stared at the

old man.  "They were men?" he asked.

	"Yes they were Mort, they were men but they were also assholes when they

were men, both wanting their girlfriends to be like they are now, well, they

don't want that anymore," the old man said, "The ingredient I took out of

the potion would have done the same thing to you too Mort, you'd be a

carefree bimbo now, only thinking about being pretty and having sex mainly."

	"No!" Mort said emphatically, "I sure as hell don't want that!"

	"Well the last option is to finish the transformation according to the rest

of the world, mainly making everybody else think that you had always been

this way, this would also give you full identification by the way, and you

could keep going with your life as it is now with a few changes."

	The old man stopped talking and watched as Mort mulled over the decision in

his mind.  Finally he asked, "If you reversed the process would I be able to

do it again to regrow my hair?"

	"No," the old man said, "I'm afraid that the potion would never work again,

you'd be bald for good Mort."

	Mort thought a little bit more.  After a while he said, "I don't want to be

bald again, lets go with the third option, I can live as a woman, hell half

the population does already."

	"I thought so," the old man said, "Here, take my hand and the spell will be

finished."

	Mort took the old man's hand and there was a flash of light, he didn't feel

any different and he said as much to the old man.  His reply was, "Look in

your pack Mort."

	Mort opened his pack and looked into his wallet, there staring up at him

from his driver's license, was his now female face, in the box for a name

there was only a blank, he showed this to the old man and was told that he

had to pick his own name to seal the spell.

	He paused for a second and said, "Madeline, Madeline Smythe."  No sooner

had he said that then his new name appeared upon his, now her license.

	She looked at the old man and he said, "Welcome to life Madeline, hope you

enjoy it."

	She ran her hands through her long silky hair and said, "You know, I think

I will," with that she walked out of the store and into her new life.



	The old man watched as she walked away and smiled to himself.  "Maybe that

will balance out a bimbo or two," he said to himself.



THE END.





        Well there it was, any comments are welcome, mailed either to me or

to the list I suppose, I guess that's all i had to say so I'll let you get

back to what you were doing. :)



Done for now,

Jeremy