It happened one day while I was changing the oil in my 'yota. That is, my four-wheel-drive, 1982 model Toyota Tacoma. That's right: I was changing my oil for the first time in the five years that I had owned her. So five years and 300,000 miles later, I decided I would have to do the unthinkable and brave the dark underbelly of my loving truck.
I don't think oil that old is supposed to glow in the middle of the day, much less in the dark. But I caught the stuff in an old oil-pan and poured it into my vat for later use. I put the oil filter on a shelf in the shop for future disposal. I had noticed earlier that year that one of my spark-plugs was fouled, so I had prepared to change it as well. After I had my truck running at its standard 62% effectivness, I decided to clean the old plugs and save them for spares. All four of them were different brands, salvaged from past projects of mine. As I was cleaning the Bouch Platinum, however, I felt a jolt leap through my arm!
I had fallen to day-dreaming again, of course. I had been thinking of the kind of shape I was going whipe myself into when foot-ball season was over and I had time to lift weights after school. I had gotten to the part where I discribed what I would look like when I was through. That was when I felt the weird numbness wash over me for a moment. I thougth that I had taken I hit too hard in lastnight's game. It passed just as suddenly as it had come over me, but was soon replaced with another sensation: My clothes where getting tighter!
I looked down at myself in amazment as my muscles bulged and firmed. I had been in pretty good shape before, but now I looked plum massive! When the growth spurt passed, and after several seconds of experimental flexing, I looked at the spark plug. It was the only possible explaination I could think of. So I decided to test my theory.
Placing the plug on my metal work table, I stepped back and imagined myself growing a few inches taller. Nothing. Then I picked up the plug and repeated the exercise, with the hoped-for results. Again came the jolt of numbness, quickly followed by the feeling of my clothes becoming too small. "Christ!", I though,"I need some better fitting clothes or I can forget about grandkids." No sooner had I thought this than my clothes lengthened and expanded to fit the new me.
I stood for a moment, stunned by the sudden realization that my dreams had come true! "With this thing, the possibilities are endless!!", I told the nearest wall with maniacal delight. But first, I wanted to experiment.
So into the house I went, straight to my VCR. I popped in one of my myriad Ranma 1/2 tapes and sat back in my chair with the sparkplug lovingly held in a Leroy Death-grip
(thereby giving lie to the Law of catalyst graspability). I decided to have a little fun with the characters first, just changing thier images. I started with Shampoo, expanding her hips, butt, and thighs while leaving her clothes the same size. When the silk uniform looked ready to burst, I stopped and moved on to Nabiki. First I removed her underwear, then made her pants and shirt VERY thin and shear. Then I started to shrink them ever so slowly, stopping only when I could see her every curve and crevise with amazing clarity. I watched her tits bounce and sway, their already appealing size made even more impressive as her shirt pressed them together and held them high, proudly thrusting outward before her. Which gave me an idea.
Suddenly her nipples sprang to life, standing proud and erect, though not very large, on the tips of her nuggs. But that was easily solved as I made them swell larger and larger, pressing through the thin material and threatening to punch through it. (Thereby proving The law of Women's erect nipples) As I made Nibiki's face reflect something out of a wet dream, a thought dawned on me. Several, in fact.
With a quick application of the plug, my screen grew to cinematic proportions, (Okay, not that big) All the characters were restored, and the film became live-action. But this was a different film. This was a film about the cult of lechers, of which I was the mastermind, of course. The plot was this: Happi' done gone and pissed off The Cult, who challenged him to a duel. Anything-Goes-Martial-Arts-perverted-spellcasting!! each side would take turns trying to one up the other side. Fortunately, we have a whole shipwrecked-on-a-not-so-deserted-island cast at our disposal!