The Morning After (Growth/TF stories)

[Lecher]

I had this idea for a sort of anthology series something like the old Incredible Hulk TV show from the 70s. I utterly hate "chapters" of stories where nothing happens, so I'm writing this in "episodes" like a TV show, where there is some general concept to the whole season but each episode can stand alone as its own story.

WARNING: This is going to be VERY sexually explicit. Puritans look elsewhere.

It's a story about a girl who becomes a monster, but it's more growth focused than TF focused, which is why I'm putting it here.

Episode 0 is the intro and background. I'm also posting episode 1.

Please tell me what you all think and if this deserves continuing!

To see the proper formatting, check out my deviantart lecher01.deviantart.com

One last thing, feel free to post these ANYWHERE! Just make sure to give me credit.

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The Morning After
Season 1, Episode 0
Introduction: The Cursebearer and the Confidant
by Lecher

It’s hard to know where to start with all this. I suppose I should start with myself, so you know my very strange role in this even stranger story. My name is William. My friends call me Billy. I am 21 years old. I have a best friend who is a girl. Her name is Robyn, she’s also 21. She periodically turns into a 70 foot rage demon monster that destroys civilization.

So anyway, nice weather we’re having, yeah?

No, I know I can’t just get away with that. Honestly, it’s hard to get this all down. We’ve been at this for like 3 years now. I’ve decided to finally write it all down because there’s no way this whole thing can be stable (please God don’t let this be stable). You’ll see what I mean.

Robyn comes from a family of mystics. I think their bloodline originates somewhere in Druid Europe back in the days of moon worship. Mystics run around with some odd fellows, and apparently Robyn’s great great grandmother pissed off the wrong guy at some point in her life. This man put a curse on her family, that a girl would be born who, on her 18th birthday, would destroy the world when it was at its most vulnerable, and the family would be responsible for the bloodshed of countless innocents. But he never said who. So generations of girls went by, each living a mostly normal life with the mysticism in their roots gradually fading, and the curse was largely forgotten. And then there was Robyn.

I suppose the world was not yet vulnerable enough to destruction until
our generation, what with the population density and how far disconnected we are from nature. We rely on our infrastructure to support us, with so many of us having lost the basic survival skills that sustained our ancestors. It would be easy for an unstoppable monster to wipe civilization out, both directly and indirectly. At least that’s what Robyn and I think.

You might remember me mentioning that this occurs on a somewhat regular basis, and you might rightfully be wondering how that’s possible. Well, it’s because of me. That’s right, I’m your savior. You’re welcome.

Robyn and I first met freshman year of high school. We became fast friends. We were both mostly part of the outgroup, but she was popular among them, if that makes sense. Queen of the outcasts, I guess you could say. She was never shy and actually kind of loud and in-your-face most of the time. Liked attention. Both conventionally and unconventionally pretty. She emanated sex it seemed, or maybe that was just my hormone-filled memory. She had a line of guys who wanted to date her and I was one of them, but thanks to events as of late I’ve tried to put those urges to rest.

Robyn never got along with her family. Her parents were split and her dad was nowhere to be found. I was the closest thing she had. And that’s the only reason I’m still here writing this, and you’re still there reading it. Before you get too confused, allow me to explain.
Robyn’s great great grandmother, after receiving the curse, immediately took it very seriously and went to the oldest sorcerer she knew to see if something could be done. The sorcerer could not remove the curse, but he was able to add a modification to it. He would tie the soul of the Cursebearer to the soul of another, called the Confidant. The Confidant would be the one who knew the Cursebearer best, who was the closest to her. The gift of the Confidant was that he or she would be able to undo all the damage the Cursebearer would cause during her transformation, and to eventually be able to solve the curse all together. The Confidant would not only save the world, but also the soul of the poor Cursebearer.

The process was simple. The Cursebearer would transform and begin her destruction of the world, but upon killing the Confidant, all time and space would rearrange and the two of them would awaken the next day as if nothing had happened, but retaining all their memories. Everyone else in the world would be none the wiser. (We have a theory that the killing of the Confidant would awaken both of them in an alternate universe where the Cursebearer had never transformed and never killed anyone.) The idea was that if they could get through her 18th birthday, they would be in the clear. And all you had to do was kill the Confidant.

Fan. Tastic.

Well who knew that old magic people would tend to oversimplify things. Obviously, I became the Confidant. And yes, I got killed when she first turned. It was at a teen night at a nightclub, for her birthday of course, and I was crushed by the rubble after she outgrew her clubbing outfit first, and then the rest of the nightclub. I don’t think I ever saw what she ended up looking like. It was pretty quick, really, and it didn’t hurt all that much. Next thing I knew, I just woke up in my bed. It was the next day. I thought the whole thing was a dream, but after calling Robyn we determined something really strange had happened.

We didn’t know what was going on the second time she transformed. It was the day after her 18th birthday, actually. She was really stressed out from not being able to remember what “really” happened the night before and she burst out of her clothes in the middle of my driveway. I think she crushed me herself that time.

Now it’s 3 years later and as you can see, we’ve been able to piece together quite a bit of the story in that amount of time. We are, however, no closer to a “cure” than we were 3 years ago. We don’t really know what triggers the transformations. There’s a definite stress component, but then again I’ve seen her have extended shouting matches with her mom with not so much as a stich of clothing popped. Likewise, there was the time she transformed during her yoga elective at school. Just doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.

We’re still both only 21 and we can’t really afford to travel the world looking for super secret magi to help us with this. We still need to try to lead normal lives and just be thankful for my “gift.” We never quite know which time will be the last, so we really can’t just give up on our lives. We are always together because we don’t want to stray from the strict rules of the curse in any way. I’ve thought about carrying cyanide pills, or even a gun, just to end things when I first see her start turning, but I’m not sure if anything else is allowed to kill me but her. If I screw it up, not only am I dead for good, but the world we end up in is finally destroyed. So for now I must do my best to be the first victim of a crazy magical female personification of the apocalypse. If she transforms while I’m not with her (and she has a couple of times), then I need to run towards the center of destruction with hopes to end it all quickly.

So this is the life we’ve been living for the past 3 years. So far, Robyn has killed me 14 times. Each time, we both wake up the next day and everything is just dandy. The world is turning, and people are going on like normal. And me? I’m in the weirdest fucking adaptation of Groundhog’s Day you can imagine.
__________________________________________________ _________________________

Clearly, it’s not exactly a simple situation. And I wish I could tell you that was it, but there is an additional complication. Lately, Robyn has begun to act…strangely. During her first several transformations, she acted like you’d imagine anyone would. Shock, confusion, disbelief, all that. But then she began to express what I can only describe as calm submission. The transformations were still chaotic and upsetting for sure, but it was almost like she was trying to take the experience in and be more present in those moments, be more aware of her clothes tearing from her body, of her frame outgrowing whatever confines she was in, of the people reacting to the surreal event happening before them, of her mind letting go of all the day-to-day human concerns and slowly slipping into destructive, violent madness.

Not only that, but for the past couple of weeks before her most recent transformation she has been definitely acting differently. Most noticeably was how she was dressing. She started wearing everything really tight, almost like she was buying down one size. Even her shoes and sandals looked a half size smaller. The first thing I wondered was if her curse had taken on a different form and switched from rapid to slow acting. The first stages of the transformation were always more of a straight growth of her frame without any of the major monsterly qualities developing until she was larger (and largely naked), so I wondered if we were witnessing an extremely slow initial growth stage. But no, that wasn’t it, nor had she put on extra weight. She really was just buying smaller clothes.

The clothing was also of a different style than she’d usually worn. Her style was now really revealing, like borderline inappropriate. She was never a shy girl and actually liked showing off quite a bit, but she would save it for that rare huge houseparty or some similar such event, whereas recently she was doing it every day. We’re talking to class, to the mall, to the supermarket, to her part-time job at the office. And it wasn’t just that she was wearing stuff that showed more skin, but it seemed…flimsier? If that makes sense?
I recall one time when we were eating at a diner. She was in a short dress, very tight (as per her new stylistic choices), and slip-on heeled sandals with a few straps crossing over the toes. We had finished our meal, I paid and was getting up to leave, but as we got up I heard a distinct snap. Robyn gasped and looked down at her feet. I saw her grip the table with one hand and start breathing rapidly. I looked down to see that one of the sandal straps on her right foot had broken. My heart raced. For a second I thought we might be dealing with another “incident,” but I quickly realized that wasn’t the case. When I looked back at Robyn I saw her face was flushed. A few moments hung in the air, then she spoke.

“False alarm…just a wardrobe malfunction,” she said with a half-hearted smile.

Did she seem a little bit...disappointed?

“Good thing,” I said.

I shrugged off the oddness of it and we went on our way. I couldn’t really put together what her behavior meant. At that time, it was mostly innocuous if not just a tiny bit odd. Later that night we were in her room watching movies when I saw another peculiar thing. I caught a glimpse of a pair of panties on the floor, partway torn through in two places, where the band would contact the hips. They looked like they had been partially cut with a scissor or knife. Again, this was another sort-of-odd-but-I’ll-shrug-it-off thing. For all I knew she had bought those too tight too and needed to get some room. But things sure came together after her most recent transformation, especially in the discussion we had the day after.

[Lecher]

The Morning After
Season 1, Episode 1
“Movie Night”
by Lecher

We had plans to go to the movies on a Friday night, nothing really unusual for us. It was a warm day in June. I went to pick her up in my early 2003 Toyota Corolla…best I could afford as a broke college student living on my own and waiting tables on the weekends. She was living at home with her mom and commuting to the university near our town, while I was living on campus in a studio apartment thanks to a nice scholarship I earned for research in European folklore (go fig). There was no need to run anywhere or exile ourselves because every “incident” immediately led to what seemed like a reset button, and a normal life was just an alarm clock buzzer away.

I pulled to the curb and texted her that I was there. “K one min,” she responded.

After a few minutes she appeared at her door. I had to do a double take because of what she was wearing. She was in a short skirt that stopped about 3 inches above her knees, yellow, that flared out at the bottom but looked tight at the top. Made her ass look crazy, and she already had an ass to begin with. On top she wore a tight white tank top with thin shoulder straps. On her feet were minimalist flip flops that just comprised of a thin platform and a single strap that went across the top of the foot horizontally with a fake buckle on it, looking a little bit small as usual. They produced an audible slap-slap-slap as she walked. She had dyed her hair blonde with a streak of red in the front a couple of weeks ago after cutting it to shoulder length (more recent changes), and at 5’6 and 120 lbs, she could already turn heads. But it looked like she was going for some serious attention tonight. As she got closer to my car, I could see the nipples of her C cup breasts poking through her shirt. Was she not wearing a bra?

“Hey!” she said cheerfully as she got into the car.

“Hey,” I replied, my voice betraying a little bit of arousal. It had been a difficult week of witnessing this girl showing herself off.

I stared at her feet. She had her toes colored a metallic purple. I always thought she had the prettiest toes. I had to quench my arousal, though. It would only make things more complicated.

“You’re done up again and I’m here in jeans and a t-shirt. You trying to make me look bad all the time now?” I jibed at her.

Robyn giggled. “I told you, I’ve just wanted to look nice. If you can’t have a girlfriend, you might as well be seen with a hot girl, right?” she said, and as the words “hot girl” came out of her mouth she flirtatiously put her arm on my shoulder and drew her body near mine from the passenger’s seat, smiling the whole time.

She was joking about her mock attraction to me of course, this was just her personality. But she wasn’t joking about my not being able to have a girlfriend. This was always an imbalance in our special relationship. Neither of us were good candidates to have relationships, but the nature of our interaction was that I had to keep an eye on her. It would be tough explaining why to a girlfriend, especially since said girlfriend would never have memory of the incidents. Robyn had a couple of boyfriends, but after she transformed in one’s car while they were on the highway and remained lucid enough to witness him crash the car and smash his head on the steering wheel, she started keeping to herself. Yeah, that was an interesting night, seeing the monster on the news and having to run and try to get its attention so it would stomp me. This is why I just prefer to be near her when it happens.

“Yeah, or maybe you like teasing me because you can’t have a boyfriend,” I chided back.

“Only because I’d much rather smash you, honey,” she said as she pulled away from me and pulled some eyeliner out of her pocketbook to do some last minute adjustments.
She slipped her feet out of her shoes and scrunched her toes on the insole. She probably knew I was watching. We learned a lot about each other through this ordeal, and she learned early of my foot fetish. Though while she was always a flirtatious tease, her joke about smashing her boyfriends was something new. She usually took the predicament pretty seriously, but now she almost seemed like she was warming up to it.

“Yeah, lucky me,” I said, trying to go with the joke, “first blue-balls then death. What more could a guy ask for?”

Robyn stopped doing her eyeliner and looked at me with a playful air of offense, then hit me on my shoulder.

“See?” I said grinning. “You’re already trying.”

Deep down, her cavalier attitude disturbed me but I tried to forget about it and just enjoy our night. It had been about 3 months since her last incident. I never lost hope that the last time would be the actual last time.

We arrived at the theater which was just down the hill about 10 minutes away. There was no line, as the movie had been out for a week already. It was an R-rated horror movie about an actual monster in the closet. Terribly unoriginal, but it was Robyn’s choice and there was nothing else out. Little did I know, we wouldn’t even get to see the opening credits.
We paid for our tickets and went straight to the theater.

“No popcorn?” I asked. She usually gets popcorn.

“Nah. I’ll eat later,” she said.

We sat down, arriving in time for previews. The theater was still pretty full because the movie was hot, but not packed. We had people sitting behind us and in front of us, but we were able to leave seats open on either side. Robyn crossed her legs, the metallic shine of her pedicured toes catching the light- and my eye. After a minute, she crossed them again the other way. She seemed a bit restless, fidgety.

“You have to pee or something?” I said,

“No, silly,” she said nonchalantly.

The lights dimmed slightly as the first preview started, darker than full blast but still brighter than they’d be when the movie started. It was a romance movie starring Bradley Cooper.

“Unh, I love him,” she said, as a hand went up to twirl her hair a bit.

“Yeah, he’s cool. Funny, too,” I said.

“Shh!” someone shushed from behind us. Neither of us cared.

Robyn shifted in her seat slightly and uncrossed and crossed he legs again. I saw her bouncing her foot a bit and kicking out the leg that was crossed, causing the sandal to slap against her heel every other time. She had a hand on one of her tank top straps, gripping the thin piece of cloth with two fingers and running them up and down the strap slowly.

The next preview started. An action movie starring Channing Tatum. First a little bit of exposition, then a bunch of explosions and a very shirtless Channing saving some damsel.

The seat next to me creaked a bit.

“Oh…,” Robyn uttered quietly.

“Yeah, I know, beefy” I said, in a slight whisper so as not to disturb the people behind us again.

Another creak from Robyn’s chair.

“Mmm…” It was a breathy sound, a little louder, more high-pitched.

“Okay, relax, you can Google him later,” I whispered.

Another explosion on the screen concealed a louder creak from the chair.

“Oh God,” she said, now in her regular voice.

I finally looked over to her to see her eyes transfixed on the screen at first.

Then she suddenly uncrossed both her legs, putting both feet flat on the floor, and clutched my forearm with her hand.

“Billy…!” she half-screamed in a slightly higher pitch.

She looked straight at me, and with my eyes adjusted to the dim light I could see her pupils were fully dilated, obscuring her brown irises completely. Her nipples were poking through her thin shirt, so erect that I could make out every contour. She was breathing rapidly now. Her palm was moist against my arm, her fingers were locked firmly around my arm. I could definitely tell she was bigger. I could feel her thighs spilling into my seat.

She looked down at her feet. I followed her eyes down to see her toes hanging about an inch off the platform of her sandals with her heels hanging off the other sides. “Uhh,” she moaned as he extended all the toes of her left foot upward, as if she was trying to break that buckled strap that held her feet down. She extended and flexed, so that her toes came down over the base, then extended again. On the second extension, I heard a “Crack!” and the strap ripped from its base on one side, flapping back and forth a couple of times before it came to rest over her growing foot. “Ah!” Robyn screamed in surprise and what distinctly sounded like sexual ecstasy.

“Shh!” came the protest from the back again.

Robyn let go out my arm and balled both her hands into fists on top of her thighs. She began to turn her head to see who shushed us again, he monstrous rage now beginning to peak through, but her eyes were distracted down by her tightening tank top strap. She looked just in time to see it snap off and fly forward to limply hang over her expanding breasts. Unhh!” she moaned.

She had grown so large that I felt her thighs pressing against mine and straining the arm rest, causing it to bend and creak. Her knees had risen significantly. I heard another quick “Shrip!” and Robyn jerked her head in the other direction to look at the other strap which had just torn like cloth. “Ohhh...” she let out, from deep in her gut.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” came an agitated male voice from the back.

I could see the creature’s violent tendencies growing within Robyn sure enough as her frame was growing outwardly. She gripped both armrest firmly and stood up. “Uhhh…fuuuckk….,” she let out, more guttural, less formed than normal speech. Her canines had grown and the rest of her teeth were in the process of growing to form themselves into more canines. As she stood up, I saw her begin to foam at the mouth. She was definitely over 7 feet tall. On standing it was also apparent that her tiny skirt had ridden up while she was growing in her seat so that now it was around her waist and her black lacey panties were on display to the whole theater. She quickly turned to face me as well as the back of the theater. She was moving in a strange way, like she was thrusting her hips. She put both her hands to the side of her head and stared down at her crotch. “Oh…ah…ohhh….OH!” With each moan I heard little tears until the final one when I saw her panties tear away from her body completely and fall to the ground. As if taking a cue, one hand immediately dove down and begin flicking her clit back and forth. “Uhhhnn…uhhnnn…ahh,” she began moaning continually while growing more and more.

She had grown another foot when one of her breasts suddenly tore through her thing tank top , with the rip starting at the nipple and opening widely quickly to expose the whole breasts. “AHH!” she screamed. This made her fingers work even quicker at her clit. I was still sitting, awestruck, and her crotch was above my eye level. I saw something dripping down from it slowly, some of it going down her leg, some of it falling directly to the floor between her feet. I stared at the small collection of drops on the carpet, noticing one foot still ensheathed in that sandal. Her toes were fully hanging off the front and the big strap was thinned and conformed to the sides of her foot. Her toenail polish was all chipped. She stopped moaning and slowed her fingers when she saw me staring down at her fluids and toes. With a slow deliberate motion, she flexed her toes forcefully over the base of the sandal and ruptured the strap violently. “OHHH!” she cried out and started vigorously rubbing again. The dripping from her loins resumed, quicker this time, forming the smallest puddle on the carpet.

Her foot busing out of her sandal seemed to throw the transformation into overdrive. The rip over her breast had extended over the entire length of the shirt as she grew bigger until both her enlarged breasts were exposed. The tattered shirt shifted around her torso until it was only a small band of cloth covering her waist, just as her yellow skirt had bunched up into a small band over her hips.

She was now over 10 feet tall and virtually naked. This was when the other changes usually started. I was transfixed on what was happening. I need to mention that this was not typical of her transformations at all. Not only did she savor every moment and not exhibit a shred of fear, but she very clearly orgasmed during it, in front of everyone.
By now, people were screaming and running away, not sure of what to make of this scene. This was the only thing about this situation that I was used to. I stood up out of my seat so I could stay close to her, though now my head didn’t even reach her knee. This was about the time that the other changes began to happen.

I saw the tips of her toes now begin to shape into hardened claws as her feet lengthened and lifted her heels off the floor. “Urgggh!” she screamed, still high pitched, still orgasming, as the beginnings of her tail began to grow from her coccyx. I heard a sharp “Snap!” and saw the yellow cloth of her skirt rip away like a rubber band and hit some poor audience member in the back of the head as they were piling against the exit. “Ahhhhh!” Robyn screamed, now in a lower pitch, more angrily. The madness was taking over now. Her skin was quickly turning a dark red, the color of the monster, and the spiked horns were growing from her spine. “Raaagghh!” she let out again, closer to a roar this time, as she neared 20 feet. The remains of her shirt snapped away and fell to the floor beside me this time. She hardly noticed it now.

Her pussy had stopped dripping and she stopped fingering herself when her hands developed their claws. The creature was almost fully developed now, it would just keep growing until it finished. I saw it looming above me, still growing, mouth full of teeth, death in its eyes, angered by the screaming people around.

Its leg was twice the thickness of my body now. It had grown so big that its head was now bumping up against the theater ceiling, bringing debris down around all of us. The growth at this stage was quickened. She was gaining about a foot a second. I looked up at the monster, surprised it hadn’t shifted its feet at all like it usually does to send me flying into a wall, or crush me. I saw it raise its arms up and roar, a deafening and terrifying inhuman sound if I’d ever heard one. It tore away at the ceiling as it grew through it. The last thing I saw was a large beam falling right down on me as I looked up. Then blackness.

* * * * * * *

I woke up with a gasp, as if from a nightmare of drowning I couldn’t remember. I looked at my phone. It was 10:45AM. The calendar had advanced a day. The sun was shining through my windows.

I took a moment to replay the night before. I remembered it all in detail, as usual. I remembered Robyn’s outfit. I remember the preview. I remember her lustful cries as she transformed. I remembered her orgasms as it continued. Then, like a light being switched on, I at once put it all together. Her sudden exhibitionist streak, her flimsy clothes, the “near-miss” at the diner...she wanted it to happen. She wanted to become the monster. And she fucking loved it when she did.

Robyn and I were going to have a very lengthy discussion.

[Mr Wayne]

Allow me to be the first to wish you well on this intriguing journey. Just as soon as I wrap up business I'll take a gander at these first two posts.


**Update**

Lecher,

My my! You sure are a good writer. No grammatical errors, just a couple spelling errors, no peculiar fetishes outside of what is generally accepted or expressed, very convincing and engaging writing style with bits of sarcasm and humor in well planted moments, and up to the second part a surprisingly effective build up to the pre-growth scene. Qzar9999 had done a similar job with his One Week At Wolf Lake's Kimberly Kitchen growth scene, and established a killer build up that sold that segment. Having the growth preceded by a complex, but well thought out introduction kept me hanging on when the first described growth would finally start. Not to mention I love the surprised, shocked, apprehensive, panicky alarmed reaction anytime it is well portrayed.

On top of that, I am also a fan of She-Hulk transformations where the muscularity is kept proportional but the transformations are uncontrollable. For quite some time I've imagined a story similar to Terry19d's Heather's Change, where the size wouldn't get out of hand but growths were all unpreventable and unstoppable as well as repetitive throughout the length of the story. Seeing how you intend to structure this story in a similar fashion has me eager to see the ways in which you have in mind to portray Robyn's predicament.

All in all just for the first two parts, well written, a solid back story and introduction to establish the main characters, and though I stopped when the growth began I'll check it out either later tonight or tomorrow after work. Yeah... Effective. ^_^

[Lecher]

Thanks for the kind review Mr. Wayne. Please do tell me what you think of the growth when you get around to it.

[Mr Wayne]

Originally Posted by Lecher

The Morning After
Season 1, Episode 1
“Movie Night”
by Lecher

...

The next preview started. An action movie starring Channing Tatum. First a little bit of exposition, then a bunch of explosions and a very shirtless Channing saving some damsel.

The seat next to me creaked a bit.

“Oh…,” Robyn uttered quietly.

“Yeah, I know, beefy” I said, in a slight whisper so as not to disturb the people behind us again.

Another creak from Robyn’s chair.

“Mmm…” It was a breathy sound, a little louder, more high-pitched.

“Okay, relax, you can Google him later,” I whispered.

Another explosion on the screen concealed a louder creak from the chair.

“Oh God,” she said, now in her regular voice.

I finally looked over to her to see her eyes transfixed on the screen at first.

Then she suddenly uncrossed both her legs, putting both feet flat on the floor, and clutched my forearm with her hand.

“Billy…!” she half-screamed in a slightly higher pitch.

She looked straight at me, and with my eyes adjusted to the dim light I could see her pupils were fully dilated, obscuring her brown irises completely. Her nipples were poking through her thin shirt, so erect that I could make out every contour. She was breathing rapidly now. Her palm was moist against my arm, her fingers were locked firmly around my arm. I could definitely tell she was bigger. I could feel her thighs spilling into my seat.

Lecher,

This alone was the part that sold the build up to the growth, and I wanted to point it out for how effective it seemed to me after reading all of the story up to this point, and after. Robyn ended up wanting the transformation, which is fine in itself, but the way you crafted her still panicked reaction was priceless.

As for the growth, while not as methodical and descriptive of thorough clothing outgrowth you did a pretty decent job. It all depends on what outfit, how well paced is the growth, character reactions, the surrounding confining or awkward environment (i.e. theater was a good choice, packed with people), and how much clothing outgrowth can be described in great detail. I suppose that prolongs the moment. Lol. But like I said, just leading up to the OMG reaction by Robyn with the repeated creaking of the movie theater seat can at times make up for other qualities that lack.

Walk them up to the cliff's edge, then scare the daylights out of them. See if the unexpectant reader manages not to fall off over the edge. B-)