Chapter Description: Really Little Rascals
Meanwhile, in a lonely field in Ireland or maybe France, a dozen or more naked boys hid and waited.
"Oh, are we gonna give those guys a surprise!" chuckled one unclad lad. "Let's see them take our buttons now!"
"Yeah! I can't wait to see their faces when they see us like this!"
In the distance, there was a shout: "Here they come!"
And on cue, the entire boy army, all of them naked as the day they were born, leapt out of hiding to confront their opponents.
The boys from the neighboring town, full-sized and fully clothed, stared incredulously down at their now suddenly pint-sized, stark naked enemies.
Grins began to spread across the full-sized boys' faces as they looked down at their little pink enemies. The tiny naked boys stared up, jaws dropped.
A few moments later, the battle had been decidedly and ignominiously lost as the wee warriors found themselves receiving humiliating bare bottom spankings at the hands of their giggling arch-rivals.
"Any... OW! ....more brilliant ideas.... OW! ...General? OW!"
"Ah, shut up! OW! OW! OW!"
Elsewhere, hard-boiled but now cherubic Harry glared angrily up at the full-sized Jean and Mary Ann, covering himself as best he could.
"Aw, c'mon, you girls! I already told you I ain't wiggling my ears for you no more! A guy can't be wiggling all the time!"
Then he turned and walked away. The two girls watched, giggling.
"That's what HE thinks!"
Reddening, Harry tried to cover his rump with his hands. "Aw, shut up!"
And in faraway Africa, a young boy clad only in a loincloth climbed down from the baby elephant he'd been riding and helped his chimp companion off its back.
"I know, Cheeta!" Boy responded to the chimp's chittering. "Tarzan said not to follow him. But it's been over a week since he left to escort Baru back to his home! He ought've been back by now!"
Taking Cheeta's hand, Boy proceeded on foot through a knot of trees too thick for the elephant to pass through.
"Besides, I'm curious!" Boy admitted, clambering over a pile of strange, glistening purple rocks. "They talked about that 'Hidden Kingdom' but whenever I tried to listen in on 'em, they clammed up!" He slid down the rocks into a field overgrown with sawgrass and wild bushes. "I wanna know what all the mystery's about!"
He looked around. "Doesn't look like there's anything this way! We must've lost the trail or... Huh?"
Dragging Cheeta behind him, Boy hurried over to something he spotted reflecting sunlight in the distance near a small hill. Reaching down, he found Tarzan's knife. Then he spotted an odd chink like a tiny door in the stone hill. And not far from that, he found some bunched-up fabric hanging awkwardly out of a crevice near the little door.
"What in the..."
Boy unfolded Tarzan's loincloth, empty and apparently hidden in the stone crevice. The knife had clearly slid out of its holster and fallen on the ground.
"G-Gosh! But where's... What happened to Tarzan?"
"Hey!" A tiny, shrill but oddly familiar voice squeaked up at him. Boy looked and finally spotted a very small, dark-haired kid about his age, only a few inches high and completely naked, glaring angrily up at him. "What Boy doing here?"
Kneeling down on his hands and knees, Boy peered down in amazement at the minuscule child who stood there, hands on dimpled hips, his prepubescence on full display.
"Tarzan told Boy to stay home!" the wee boy squeaked, his little chest heaving in anger. "Why Boy follow Tarzan to Hidden Kingdom?"
Boy looked closer at the angry, bare white mite.
"TARZAN?" Boy yelped in amazement. "Whuh-What happened? You've shrunk!" He laughed in astonishment. "And you're... You're a kid! You're probably younger than I am now!"
"Tarzan is not!" shouted the pint-sized, buck naked jungle boy up at the full-sized, nominally more clothed jungle boy grinning down at him. "Hidden Kingdom magic! Populated only by tiny people! Tarzan have to shrink down to escort Baru home!"
"Wow!" Boy giggled. "And everyone's a kid in the Hidden Kingdom? And no one has any clothes on?"
"In Hidden Kingdom, everyone young forever! No girls there so everyone go bare!" Tiny Tarzan explained, still blushing at his enormous, snickering young ward's scrutiny. "Tarzan have to wait for shrinking spell to wear off before Tarzan can go home!"
"Yeah, I guess so!" Boy laughed, his tummy going in and out. Tiny Tarzan's tummy also went in and out as he fumed. "You'd sure have a hard time getting through the jungle like that!"
All this time, Cheeta had been staring at Tarzan in bewilderment. Now he ventured to reach out toward the wiggling little bare bottom of the Lilliputian jungle lord turned jungle lad.
"YIPE!" Tarzan yelped, clutching his freshly goosed backside and turning to shout up at the nonplussed chimp. "CHEETA KEEP PAWS TO HIMSELF! LEAVE TARZAN ALONE!"
In response, Cheeta seized the tiny, squawking pink figure between two fingers and lifted him up at peer at him. Boy couldn't help laughing at the indignant squeaks as the miniature, de-aged and de-nuded little jungle king was poked and prodded by the curious monkey.
"H-HEY! CHEETA PUT TARZAN --YEEP!-- CHEETA PUT TARZAN DOWN! WHOOP! STOP IT! YOW!"
"Gee, Tarzan!" Boy said between giggles. "Now that I'm here, I can take you home! Sure, you'll still be little but Cheeta and I can take care of you..." He tried to continue but collapsed into a fresh fit of hysterics when he saw Tarzan trying to keep Cheeta's fingers away from his puny preadolescent privates.
"OW! CHEETA! Y-YOU STOP IT RIGHT NOW! OW! BOY! OW! MAKE CHEETA... OW! STOP OR..."
Boy struggled to get his giggling under control.
"IT NOT FUNNY!" squeaked the mortified Tarzan. "OH, WHEN TARZAN GETS BIG AGAIN, HE GIVE BOY SUCH A SPANKING HE NOT SIT FOR A WEEK!"
Reaching over, Boy plucked the little, squirming boy Tarzan from Cheeta's grasp. He held the furious mite in his palm, smirking down at the fuming mite.
"Well, right now you're small enough I can give YOU such a spanking YOU won't be able to sit down for a MONTH!"
He then flipped the tiny Tarzan over and began soundly paddling the furiously squealing little jungle boy's squirming bare bottom.
"OW! OH, TARZAN GET BOY FOR THIS! TARZAN REMEMBER THIS WHEN HE GET BIG AGAIN! OW! OW! OWWWWW!"
"Yeah," Boy chuckled. "I'll remember too! And what a memory!"
After several minutes, he let the mortified little mite up. Tarzan stood there on Boy's palm, arms crossed, blazing red on both ends.
"Boy just wait!" Tarzan vowed in a quavering voice, rubbing his stinging bare backside. "When Tarzan big again, Tarzan be the one to spank!"
"Yeah, well, I sure hope that'll be awhile!" Boy giggled. "I like it better this way around!" He smiled. "In fact, I'm gonna spank you every day until you get big!"
The horror on the young Tarzan's face was adorable. "You better not!" he squeaked, clutching his burning bottom.
Boy responded with a single flick on his miniature mentor's exposed and very tender rear. Tarzan emitted a fresh yelp, then danced about in pain and indignation as Boy smiled down at him.
"Well, c'mon Cheeta!" Picking up Tarzan's discarded, too large loincloth, Boy tossed it over his shoulder. "Let's head for home!"
Tucking the protesting pipsqueak Tarzan into his waistband, he led Cheeta back toward the elephant.
Elsewhere, a slightly pudgy boy in knickers and a beanie cap cheerfully hurried through a scruffy backyard into the dilapidated old barn he and his Gang had turned into their clubhouse.
Swinging open the half-rotted, gap-filled wooden door, he hurried inside to discover a pair of younger boys sitting on an old, lopsided overstuffed chair, sharing an apple.
"'Ey, imme anodder bite, Porky!"
"Otay, Buckwheat!" He handed the apple to his pal, then waved at the older boy. "Hey, Spanky!"
"Hi," Spanky answered offhandedly, looking around the room. "Hey, have either of you two kids seen Alfalfa?"
The boys exchanged looks and shrugged.
Suddenly, there was a yelp.
The two boys were tossed to the dirt floor as the chair cushions shifted and rose. A skinny, freckled boy in a too-tight suit emerged from the stuffing underneath them, struggling to remove a loose spring which had hooked the seat of his pants.
"Oh, there you are!" Spanky hurried over and removed the spring from Alfalfa's person. "What're you doin' in there for?"
"I was hidin'!" Alfalfa responded, spitting out a wad of cotton. "Boy! I nearly stuffocated in there!" He sighed, plastered a goofy look on his face, and rolled his eyes heavenward. "But it's all worth it for Darla!"
Spanky grimaced and shook his head. "Darla! Ah, why doncha get over her?"
"I cain't!" sighed Alfalfa. "Ever since she said she'd go to the Strawberry Festival with me, my heart has been walkin' an air!" He clutched the front of his shirt.
Spanky sighed. "Wrong side."
"Your heart's on the other side."
Alfalfa quickly switched his hands around.
"Yeah, and ever since then, Butch and Woim have been threatening to clobber you! And you know Darla loves every second of it! Why can't you stop falling in love with her?"
"If only I could!" Alfalfa struck a dramatic pose. "But I can't! It's like the lady says: I was made that way! I can't help it!"
Buckwheat and Porky nodded enthusiastically. "'Yeah, he can' 'elp it, Spanky..."
Spanky rolled his eyes.
Alfalfa suddenly grew nervous again. "Is Butch around? Have you seen him?"
In response, Spanky grinned from ear to ear. "Have I seen Butch? Have I seen Butch? Oh BOY, have I seen Butch!"
Before he could elaborate, they heard a shout from the other side of the door.
"OKAY, YA TOOTHPICK! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!"
Alfalfa's face contorted in panic. Spanky grinned wider than ever. And Porky and Buckwheat exchanged startled looks.
Butch's voice continued, slightly higher and somewhat odd-sounding. He seemed quite close but also far away, as if he was yelling from a distance.
"WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU, YOU'RE GONNA WISH YOU'D NEVER BEEN BORN!"
"Oh gosh! I'm doomed!"
Alfalfa ran over and quickly braced himself against the door. Then he opened the eye-level peephole to look outside.
"C'MON, WOIM! LET'S GET 'IM!"
"Gosh!" Alfalfa searched in confusion. "I don't see him..."
Then through a small gap in one of the boards far down between Alfalfa's feet marched two tiny pink figures only a few inches high. Alfalfa looked down to see them stalk past him into the clubhouse.
"OKAY, WHERE IS HE?" A tiny, buck naked Butch peeped angrily. "WHERE'S THAT SCARECROW AT?"
Scarcely eye-level with the top of Alfalfa's shoe, the snub-nosed, mussy-haired, scowling little unclad mite stormed into the room, blushing furiously and clutching a pair of discarded shirt buttons fore and aft in a largely ineffectual attempt to cover his minuscule nakedness. Close behind him followed an equally tiny, equally naked freckle-faced boy with a cloud of pale red hair, covering himself as best he could with a leaf that was almost as big as he was. Finally, they looked up and saw their now gargantuan rival staring down at them. Butch swallowed, his eyes widening and Woim somehow turned even paler, but they both quickly recovered their bare bluster.
"OH, THERE YOU ARE!" Baby Butch squeaked, sticking out his chin at him."YOU THINK YOU'RE SAFE UP THERE? I MAY HAVE SHRUNK BUT I CAN STILL CLOBBER YOU, YOU OVERGROWN BEANPOLE!"
"Yeah! You ain't seen the end of us!" Woim's modesty leaf flapped, displaying what little he still had. He quickly yanked it more tightly around him in front, exposing his pudgy bare behind.
Buckwheat and Porky gaped in open-mouthed amazement at the two shrunken bullies. Butch and Woim glared up at them.
"AW, WHADDYA YOU LOOKIN' AT?" Woim challenged them, all four cheeks flushed. Butch's cheeks aft were similarly flushed under the button, which slipped out of his sweaty hand and fell to the ground, leaving his lily-white rear exposed.
Porky and Buckwheat made shocked O's with their mouths. "Dosh! He ain't dot nothin' on buh tin!"
"Yeah! I bet he cold back there!"
Alfalfa gulped, still somehow intimidated by the two bare-bottomed bullies looking up at his knees.
"DARN RIGHT IT'S BUTCH!" The tiny tough guy squeaked up at his enormous enemy, squaring his bare shoulders pugnaciously. "Y'GOT ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT IT?"
Alfalfa stared. "Uh... Nice tan?"
The two tiny boys' blushes deepened.
Spanky walked over to Alfalfa. "Ah, why're you worried about those two little pipsqueaks for?"
"PIPSQUEAKS?" Butch's eyes widened in fury.
"Heck, lookit 'em!" Spanky continued, watching them redden all over. "They're way too little to push us around anymore!"
"Yeah?" Alfalfa's face lit up in dawning awareness. "Yeah!" Putting his hands on his hips, he stared down at the two startled midgets. "You two runts better get outta here before I get mad and squash you like a coupla bugs!"
Butch and Woim's jaws dropped. "WHAAAT?"
Alfalfa reached down and grabbed the tiny, startled Butch, holding him between thumb and forefinger by the waist. Butch's legs kicked and his upturned rump wiggled as he struggled. He dropped the last remaining button, leaving him completely naked before his giant opponent.
"H-HEY! HEY, WHAT'S THE BIG IDEA? PUMMIE DOWN!"
"And you better stay away from Darla!" Alfalfa held the little mite to his face.
"Oh, I don't think he'll be going near Darla!" Spanky chuckled. "Not dressed like that!"
Woim stood, shielding his eyes as he looked up at his squirming pal.
"He better!" Alfalfa smirked at the wide-eyed little bully. "Or I'll turn him over my knee and give 'im a good spanking!" He flicked Butch's bare fanny.
"YOOOOW!" Butch howled. Then he flew into a tiny, high-pitched rage. "ALRIGHT, THAT'S IT!" Itty-bitty Butch squirmed, his legs kicking like pistons, his arms pinwheeling. "LEMME AT 'IM! I'LL TEAR 'IM DOWN TO MY SIZE!"
A little nervous, Alfalfa placed Butch back down on the ground where he continued his tirade, hopping with anger and shaking his fist up at them, his almost too small to be seen boyhood shaking in sympathy.
"JUST BEND HIM DOWN HERE AND I'LL KNOCK HIS BLOCK OFF! I'LL MURDER 'IM! I..."
"Hold on, you guys!" Spanky's smile widened as an idea came to him. "I know a better way to settle this!"
Not so long afterward, virtually every kid in the neighborhood was gathered around a rickety, homemade boxing ring set up in a vacant lot. Rows and rows of old wooden boxes and planks were occupied by kids ogling the tiny, naked Butch and Woim as they stood on an old stool on one side of the ring, waiting.
Butch glowered, arms crossed over his little abs, his protruding little bare behind shifting back and forth. "They better not try to chicken out!"
"Well, they better hurry up!" Woim muttered in response, rubbing his hands over his arms. "I'm getting cold!"
They both tried to ignore the whispers and giggling from the audience. All the neighborhood had been terrorized by the two bullies for years and were very much enjoying seeing them both in their current reduced circumstances.
Occasionally, the two would look over at Porky and Buckwheat, who stood nearby, gleefully towering over them.
A particularly loud snicker drew Butch's ire. He turned, his wee willy wiggling like a scolding finger. "Y'SEE SOMETHING FUNNY HERE?"
"Nope," the boy answered, not even bothering to hide his smile. "Just counting freckles."
Butch clenched his fists, among other things. But before he could do anything else, Spanky emerged from the nearby stall they were using as a dressing room. He was wearing a grey sweatsuit with 'REFEREE' written across the chest and he turned to gesture to Alfalfa.
Alfalfa poked his head out and looked at Butch. "You sure about this, Spank?"
"Sure I'm sure!" Spanky whispered back, trying to keep Butch from hearing. "Lookit how little he is! You can lick him easy! Heck, you'll probably have trouble not stepping on him!"
Alfalfa emerged wearing a union suit under his boxing trunks. Butch and Woim looked at each other and winked.
Then Woim held up his arms. "HOLD ON! HOLD ON! FOUL!"
Butch and Woim climbed down from the stool and ran over to confront the giant boys.
Spanky looked down at the pale pink little midgets striding across the canvas.
"I'LL TELL YA WHAT'S WRONG!" Woim pointed to Alfalfa. "WHAT'S THE IDEA OF THAT GET-UP?"
Alfalfa looked down at his suit, then at Woim. "Them's my fightin' clothes!"
"YEAH?" Woim shouted back. "WELL,YOU CAN'T WEAR A DIFFERENT COSTUME THAN THE GUY YOU'RE FIGHTING! BOTH OPPONENTS GOTTA WEAR THE SAME THING! THOSE'RE THE RULES!"
"Whuh... Whuh... What?" Spanky and Alfalfa looked at each other in dismay.
"IT'S IN THE HANDBOOK!" He dragged an old book bigger than he was over and pointed to the page.
Spanky picked up the book. "RULES OF BOXING AND WRESTLING HANDBOOK..." He read over the page. "Yep. That's what it says all right."
"But... But..." Alfalfa paled. "If I wore the same kinda suit as him..." He pointed at the naked Butch. "That means I'd hafta be... I'd hafta go... I'd hafta wear..."
His eyes crossed and he almost fainted. Spanky caught him and propped him back up.
"YEAH! YOUR BIRTHDAY SUIT!" Butch crossed his arms. "THEM'RE THE RULES!"
"But... But... But..." Alfalfa looked at the smirking little Butch, then around at the audience. "I gotta go home now, I got chores..."
He bolted. Spanky grabbed him.
"No, really!" Alfalfa pleaded. "I hear my mom calling..."
Butch and Woim gloated. "Toldja he didn't have the nerve!"
"Aw, c'mon!" he told Alfalfa. "It'll just be for a couple minutes! And it's pretty much all guys here anyway! Besides, ya gotta!"
"But I... I... Uh.... Ohhhh..." He squirmed in Spanky's grip.
"We'll show you who doesn't have nerve!" Spanky snapped at Butch. He pushed Alfalfa back toward the dressing room. "C'mon, go in there and get those duds off!"
Then Butch turned to Spanky. "YOU TOO!"
Spanky's mouth opened and all the color drained from his face. "Me... Me..." He swallowed. "Me too?" The color returned, and then some.
Alfalfa smirked at him. "It'll just be for a minute!" he repeated back in a mocking sing-song.
Butch put his hands on his hips. "REMEMBER, THIS WAS YOUR IDEA!"
"Ohhh... All right!" Spanky stomped off to the dressing stall, pushing Alfalfa in front of him. "C'mon, let's get this over with!"
Butch and Woim watched them, gloating.
Woim clapped his pal on his bare back.
"We sure showed 'em!"
"Yeah!" Butch smirked. "Now I can get them back for stealing my clothes during that wrestling match." He blushed at the memory. "I'm hiding under a canvas with no pants on in front of the entire neighborhood and they're daring me to 'come out and fight like a man!' I've never been so humiliated in all my life!"
Woim looked at the tiny, stark naked Butch, then at his own nakedness, then at all the kids around them staring. "Uh, yeah. I can imagine."
Butch glared at him. "And a fat lotta help YOU were! I'm naked under a sheet, you're listening to Waldo recite poetry!"
Woim shrugged. "Hey, can I help it if I got a cultured soul?"
Butch snorted. "I can't believe they ripped my suit right offa me..."
A voice above them answered. "Dat wah us."
The two little nude bullies looked up at Porky and Buckwheat, who now towered over them.
"'Eah!" Buckwheat added. "Buh we not gonna do it again!" He put one hand on his heart and raised the other. "'E promise!"
Butch and Woim glowered up at the two toddlers they used to torment who were now six times their size, not to mention fully clothed. Before they could say anything, however, there was a commotion elsewhere.
The dressing room curtains rustled. There was a moment's hesitation. Then Spanky emerged, palely, pinkly, and pudgily naked. The audience roared with laughter.
"Hey, look!" some smart-aleck in the audience yelled. "It's a bare bottomed Spanky!"
Blushing furiously, his boy-boobs perky and pointy, Spanky squared his jaw and strode forth with as much dignity as he could muster, his aforementioned bare bottom jiggling with each step. He paused, then looked over his shoulder.
"Come on!" He gestured.
Alfalfa poked his head out, wrapping the curtain around himself. "You know... I been thinking... Cain't we let bygones be bygones? I mean..."
Spanky reached back and grabbed his pal's bare shoulders. "Come outta there!"
He yanked Alfalfa out into the open, revealing he was as bare as Spanky, and somehow considerably paler. Spanky was largely an off-pink; Alfalfa was a pasty off-white.
There was a fresh roar of laughter. Alfalfa dropped into a crouch, covering himself as best he could with his crossed arms.
Spanky rolled his eyes. "C'mon! If I can stand it, you can!" He pushed him toward the ring. "Now hurry up so we can get this over with! I'm freezing!"
In the ring, tiny Butch and Woim laughed uproariously at their denuded rivals.
"Not so funny now, is it?" catcalled Butch, his hands on his bare flanks.
"Feel a draft?" Woim taunted the two much bigger, furiously blushing boys as they approached. "Breezy, ain't it?"
"Ah, c'mon you guys!" whined Alfalfa. "We got nothing on! Everyone's looking!"
"So?" Woim rejoined, looking up at their prepubescent bareness. "We got nothing on too!"
"Yeah!" Alfalfa screwed up his face. "But you're tiny! No one can see you!"
"Yeah!" Spanky chuckled. "Not without a magnifying glass!"
Now Butch and Woim were furiously blushing. They looked down at themselves, contemplating their own and each others' exposed weeness.
"A MAGNIFYING GLASS?!?" Butch fumed, his little tummy going in and out. "YOU... COME OVER HERE AND I'LL TEAR YOU APART! I'LL..."
"Ah, calm down, ya little runt!" Spanky laughed.
Butch's eyes popped in anger. "RUNT, AM I? WHY, YOU...
Ignoring him, Spanky climbed into the ring, ducking under the ropes and mooning the entire audience. The kids in the first two rows gasped, getting a view of the chubby young Rascal rarely displayed except at occasional swimming hole dives.Then he assisted Alfalfa, who was trying to climb over the ropes without raising his leg too high and displaying too much of himself. Even with Spanky's help, he wound up showing pretty much everything he had to the jeering audience.
"Gee!" Alfalfa whimpered as he alighted. "I'm feeling kinda over-exposed right now..."
"Yeah, well, Butch is naked as we are," Spanky reminded him. "And he's a LOT smaller! You can beat him easy!"
Spanky didn't answer. "Okay guys, let's get started..."
The two fighters faced each other.
Alfalfa stood there flapping his arms, his face contorted in mortified misery, painfully aware of the entire neighborhood laughing at his nakedness. His ribs were visible under his scrawny chest and his shoulder blades stuck out under his skin. His bare behind was almost flat and ghostly white.
Below him, Butch stood, five inches tall and looking mainly at his nemesis' bare feet. His body, what there was of it, was a little more muscular and his bare behind a little more prominent, though almost as pale. It wiggled back and forth impatiently.
"C'MON! STOP STALLING!"
Spanky shrugged and took his place between them, hands on his knees. The kids behind him laughed once again.
"Wow! Kinda early in the day for a full moon!"
Spanky's ears reddened. Woim snickered, arms folded smugly, his own pale white full moon a mere pebble in comparison.
"Okay guys," Spanky instructed the fighters. "I'd say no hitting below the belt but I don't think it's avoidable under the circumstances."
Butch glowered up at him.
Spanky reached for his whistle, then realized he wasn't even wearing that. Instead, Buckwheat rang the bell to start the fight.
The nude and pasty Alfalfa peered nervously down at the tiny, bare bottomed Butch circling around his feet.
"C'mon, Butch... This is embarrassing..."
Spanky, on the other hand, was thoroughly enjoying the show. Woim was anxiously watching, ready to jump in if need be. And Buckwheat and Porky sat nearby, the only ones in the ring wearing a stitch of clothing.
"I beddey cold..."
Spanky looked over his shoulder back at them. "You know it, brother..." He rubbed his goose pimples.
Butch leapt at Alfalfa's left foot. Quickly, Alfalfa lifted it out of the way, leaving Butch to belly-flop on the canvas.
Alfalfa swallowed nervously. Butch went to attack the right foot, only for Alfalfa to lift that one too, quickly dropping his left one to keep his balance.
The audience erupted in jeers and catcalls. Butch sat on the canvas, fuming.
"NOW CUT THAT OUT!"
"S-Sorry, Butch! It's instinct!"
"Yeah!" Woim piped up. "Speaking of stink, you guys ever wash your feet?" He made a face.
Spanky stared down at the tiny bully. "Yeah? Any more cracks like that and he'll step on ya!"
Butch blinked, double-taking.
Porky and Buckwheat nodded. "'Eah, no Mohr cracks."
"Oo duys godda huh twacks alreddy!"
Spanky winced, straightening up and glowering at them. "When I get my pants on again, I'm gonna..."
Alfalfa, meanwhile, was continuing his dance as Butch kept diving at one foot, then another.
"DARN IT! HOLD STILL, YOU..."
Then Alfalfa lost his balance. He teetered back and forth, a worried Spanky and two miniature tough guys looking on.
"Whoah! Whoaaaaah.... Whooooah...."
Alfalfa toppled backwards, landing on his skinny bare backside in the center of the ring.
Spanky ran over and helped him up. "You okay?"
"I... I think so..." Alfalfa stumbled to his feet. "Just a little dizzy is all..."
They then looked down at the canvas. "Hey! Where's Butch and Woim?"
They searched around, unable to find their reduced rivals. Then Alfalfa turned around and Spanky smirked triumphantly.
"I see 'em!"
"You do?" Alfalfa googled in all directions. "Where?"
Then he shook his hips like a hula dancer, giggling.
"Wooohooohooohooo! Something's ticklin'!"
He turned and the audience gaped with shock, then dissolved into hysterics at the sight of Butch and Woim stuck facedown to Alfalfa's rear, one bully to each buttcheek. Alfalfa twirled trying to see what everyone was laughing at, then reached back and peeled them off. They each left a little indentation in the skin where they'd been.
"GULP!" Alfalfa held the furious, humiliated bullies, one in the palm of each hand. "S-S-Sorry, Butch!"
"I'M GONNA MOIDER YA FOR THAT!" squeaked the outraged, red-faced mite up at Alfalfa's nipple. He stomped his little feet on Alfalfa's palm. Woim just stood there, getting redder and redder, his eyes blazing. "C'MON, WOIM! LET'S GET 'IM!"
They charged forward across Alfalfa's hands and did their best to attack his chest. Their minuscule fists pounded against his skin, to no effect whatsoever. Alfalfa barely even felt a thing.
Alfalfa quietly slid his thumbs up against the tiny boys' bodies and pushed them away from him. They continued their attack, fists flailing against the air, shouting threats in their tiny, faint, peeping voices.
Looking down at them, Alfalfa was amused to once again realize this was Butch and Woim, the two bullies he had been terrified of for years. Now they were shrunk down to puny, stark naked midgets so small he was literally able to hold them in his hands.
"YOU JUST WAIT TIL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!" the Tom Thumb-sized Butch squeaked, the M-shape of his tiny crack and bare cheeks prominent from on high. "YOU GRASSHOPPER! I'LL TEAR YOU LIMB FROM LIMB!"
Alfalfa couldn't help smiling at the spectacle little baby Butch was making of himself, his face beet red, his little chest panting, his bare bottom wiggling, his genitals almost too small to be seen Woim was equally ineffectual and infantile, huffing and puffing, crimson-cheeked on both ends.
Curling his fingers behind the boys' backs, Alfalfa struck back. His fingers ran up and down their exposed skin. Butch and Woim yelped, then started dancing frantic little jigs in Alfalfa's palms as they found themselves mercilessly tickled.
"H-HEY! WOO-HOO-HOO-HOO-HOO! W-WHAT'S G-GOIN' ON? WEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!"
"WHA-HA-HA-HA-WHAT'S THE BIG IDEA! YEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!"
"DOGGONE IT! HOO-HOO-HOO-HOO! YOU C-CUT THAT OUT! HEY-HAY-HAY-HAY!"
Spanky chuckled. "So, guys! How does that tickle your fancy?"
The audience watched with amusement as the diminished tough guys squirmed.
"WE'LL... HEE-HEE-HEE! ...GET YOU FOR THIS! WHA-HA-HA-HA!" Butch's eyes bulged as he was suddenly goosed. "YIPE! HEY! WATCH IT!" He writhed helplessly as the tickling intensified. "HOO-HOO-HOO-YEE-HEE-HOO!"
Alfalfa grinned viciously. "Okay, you little squirts! Say uncle!"
"YAH-HEE-HAA-HOO... NUH-NEH... NUH-NEH..." Butch and Woim looked at each other, tears filling their eyes. "OKAY, UNCLE! WOO-HOO-HOO-HAH!"
The crowd cheered Alfalfa's victory. The scrawny, naked boy plopped the two tiny naked boys on their stool before the chubby naked boy grabbed his arm and raised it in triumph.
Shame faced and still gasping for breath, Butch and Woim tried to regain their composure, if not their dignity.
"Hey," Woim nudged his pal. "Look at it this way. At least he didn't spank us!"
Just then, in the midst of celebrating, Spanky and Alfalfa heard a noise behind them.
Turning, they saw a row of so of giggling girls who had apparently snuck in while the two of them were preoccupied.
"Oh... Oh no..."
They recognized the girls from school and around the neighborhood.
"Oh gosh..." Spanky's eyes went wide. "Every girl in town must be here..."
Alfalfa swallowed hard. "Guh-guh-gosh!"
The girls grinned, covering their eyes but peeking coquettishly through their fingers.
Spanky and Alfalfa stood there shivering in the chilling breeze, their boyhoods pointing down at the canvas. Their bare, blushing behinds shifted from side to side.
"Nice birthday suits, boys!"
"Looks like the He-Man Woman-Haters Club went nudist!"
"This is the best show they ever put on!"
"Y'guys posing on a bearskin rug later?"
Spanky and Alfalfa fought back tears, bending over and struggling to cover themselves.
Eyes tightly shut, blushing furiously all over, the two boys squirmed, shook, and then literally shrank from embarrassment. There was a gasp from the crowd as the two boys dwindled down to miniature size before their very eyes.
Spanky and Alfalfa gulped, looking around at the suddenly much bigger world around them. They saw the now gigantic Porky and Buckwheat staring open-mouthed down at them.
"Wow! Dey take down inna world!"
"Well, this is just great..." grumbled Spanky, blushing furiously and folding his arms over his bare midsection.
Then someone tapped Alfalfa on the shoulder. He gulped.
He turned and looked right into the scowling face of his no longer tiny enemy.
"Butch!" Spanky gasped.
The two boys were now just as small as the bullies they'd just publicly humiliated.
Alfalfa smiled weakly. "H-hiya, pal..."
Butch grinned evilly. "So! You're down to MY size now!"
The two now small boys backed away, only to bump into an equally furious Woim.
"Not so tough now, are ya?"
Alfalfa flapped his arms. "Ooooo...."
Butch flexed his muscles. "Wanna try a re-match, small fry?"
"Uh..." Alfalfa backed away. "No... That's all right..." He turned and ran. After a moment's hesitation, Spanky ran too.
Butch and Woim looked at each other, then at the boys.
Alfalfa and Spanky fled, naked as the day they were born. Butch and Woim ran after them, both equally naked. Four bare bottoms wiggled frantically as the boys ran in circles around the ring.
"YOU JUST WAIT'LL I GET HOLD OF YOU!"
"N-N-NOW BUTCH, TAKE IT EASY..."
The girls and not a few of the boys clustered around the ringside, leaning close to get an eyeful.
"Oboy! Good thing I brought my magnifying glass!"
"Wow! This is even better than hiding in the bushes at the swimming hole!"
A blushing Spanky looked up at the girls in dismay.
"Ah, c'mon! Ain't we got enough to worry about already?"
Just then, behind the girls, they heard another familiar voice.
"Another bon-bon, my dear?"
"Oh, THANK you, Waldo! You're simply WON-derful!"
Pausing in their chase, Alfalfa and Butch looked out into the audience to see their mutual crush in the company of their still full-sized, fully dressed rival.
Waldo held a box of candy up to Darla, who chose another tidbit to munch on as the two tiny boys, burning with anger and embarrassment, shouted up at them, waving their wee fists.
"Did you hear something, Waldo?" cooed Darla, fluffing her hair. "A mouse squeaking, or a bug maybe?"
"I can't imagine, Darla!" Waldo raised her hand to kiss her fingers. "Whatever it is, it's far too infinitesimal to concern the two of us!"
Butch and Alfalfa stood there, beet red with embarrassed outrage. Behind them, Woim and Spanky stared too.
"Oh, Waldo!" Darla trilled. "I'm so glad you're accompanying me to the Strawberry Festival!"
"One could hardly expect a lady as beauteous as yourself to be denied a proper escort!" He arose, dusted off the seat of his trousers, and offered Darla his arm. "And who knows? Perhaps we might see your old boyfriends at the Beautiful Baby Contest!"
The two pint-sized rivals stood glaring up at the two lovebirds, shaking with helpless, mortified fury. Darla and Waldo gazed down in amusement for several seconds. Then Waldo leaned over, puffed out his cheeks, and blew at the tiny boys, sending them all sprawling.
"Bye, boys!" Darla waved at the four nude mites. "Try not to catch cold!"
The tiny, naked Alfalfa and Butch watched Darla walk off arm in arm with Waldo. Alfalfa's jaw was on the ground. Butch looked like he was about to cry. Spanky and Woim were glowering miserably.
"Well..." Spanky sighed. "Under the circumstances, there's only one thing left to do."
They looked sadly up at Porky and Buckwheat. Porky and Buckwheat smiled down at them.
Moments later, Porky and Buckwheat were seated on the stools in the center of the ring. Spanky and Alfalfa lay on their tummies across Buckwheat's knee; Butch and Woim lay across Porky's knee.
All four boys sulked, mortified, arms crossed, growing increasingly red on both ends as the younger boys administered their justly deserved public bare bottom spankings. Every kid in the neighborhood was howling with laughter at the humiliating spectacle.
Porky turned to Buckwheat. "Affer den more swats, we trade, otay? Oo pank dese duys an' I pank dem!"
Buckwheat nodded. "Otay. How many's den?"
Porky held up his hand. "Oh, ah dunno..."
And some distance away, two tiny heads, one dark-haired and spiky, the other blond and bespectacled, peeked out behind from a bush, followed by two sets of pinkish, bony shoulders and a pair of scrawny, hairless chests.
"What happened?" squeaked a miniature Flynn. "We were just walking along..."
"I... I have no idea!" Wee Henry adjusted his glasses, the only garment either boy had between them. "We seem to have been somehow transmogrified into a diminutive state via an improbable and preposterous contradiction of the Square-Cube law!"
"Not only that," Flynn replied, "we've shrunk!"
"Yes," Henry sighed. "I said that."
"Well, did you say how it happened?"
"I can't imagine!" Henry gasped. "It's scientifically impossible!"
Flynn considered. "Maybe it was magic."
"Magic!" Henry scoffed. "Don't be absurd, Flynn! Magic isn't real!"
"Don't say that!" Flynn warned. "If it was magic, you want it to get mad at you?"
Henry rolled his eyes. "Well, there are two things of which I am absolutely certain. Number one... I'm cold!" He shivered in the breeze. "And number two... There is no way you're getting me out from behind this bush!" His face contorted in an agony of embarrassment. "I haven't a stitch on!"
"In case you haven't noticed," Flynn scowled at him, "neither do I! And I'm just as cold as you are!"
There was a pause and then Flynn yelped.
"Yes," Henry nodded. "Yes, you are!"
"Hey! Keep your hands to yourself!"
Henry shrugged. "Just a quick scientific analysis..."
"Yeah, well, keep your science away from my analysis!" huffed Flynn. "It's feeling a little vulnerable right now..."
"Likewise," nodded Henry. "How are we going to get home?"
The two of them looked around. So far, no one had seemed to notice them yet.
"Let's consider our options..." Flynn pondered. "We're shrunk..."
"Indeed," Henry adjusted his glasses. "I'd estimate we're only about four or five inches high!"
"We're bare butt naked..."
"Well, that should give us a chance to even out our tans at least!"
"Yeah!" Flynn leaned back to stare. "You can use it! I haven't seen anything that white since the last snowstorm!"
"HEY!" Henry reddened. "I would appreciate no untoward cracks about my gluteus maximus!"
"Well, the crack it already has is untoward enough!" cackled Flynn. "Besides, right now it looks more like a gluteus minimus!"
Henry crossed his arms over his skinny chest. "I'm surprised you recognize the term!"
"Hey! I'm a ten year old boy! You think I don't know every word there is for butt?"
Henry's eyes narrowed. "It's tunbu in Mandarin Chinese."
"Thanks. If I had a pencil, I'd jot that down."
"Besides, you have a nerve to talk!" Henry stepped back to check out Flynn. "I can scarcely make out anything from the glare off your iridescent posterior!" His eyes widened. "Is that a birthmark shaped like George Washington's profile?"
"I sat on a quarter when I was a baby," Flynn shrugged.
"Well, I suppose there is one good thing about our situation," sighed Henry. "At least we can't get wedgies!"
Flynn considered. "We could still get goosed, though..."
"Goosed?" Henry stared at his friend in confusion. "What's that?"
Flynn gaped at his scholarly but unworldly pal. "You don't know what..." Then an evil grin crossed his face. "Oh, goosing someone. Well, it's basically..."
Henry yelped, then turned to face Flynn. Then he smiled slyly.
"Oh, I see. Sort of like..."
"Nah. More like..."
"Oh, of course. "So it's..."
This went on for several minutes. Finally, Flynn shouted "Truce!"
"Fine," Henry sighed. "It seems decidedly unhygienic anyway... Besides, we're no closer to resolving our dilemma than we were before."
Flynn nodded, looking around the bush.
"The way I see it, we have two choices. We can stay here and freeze to death..."
Henry nodded. "What's the second choice?"
Flynn swallowed. "We make a run for it."
Henry's face fell.
Several minutes later, two tiny bare figures ran through the streets of town, blushing all over, with every bit of their blushes visible.
"I... I can't believe... This was popular in the Seventies!" Henry panted, pantsless.
"Just... Just keep running!" Flynn told him. "Maybe we'll be lucky and nobody'll look down!"
Henry whimpered. "I just... I just hope none of my students sees me like this! I have enough trouble as a preadolescent genius college professor as it is!"
"Yeah..." Flynn gasped. "Yeah, well... If anyone finds out about this, my reputation is shot!" he sobbed. "Nobody will think I'm cool anymore!"
Henry grimaced. "I think we're both cool enough! I, for one, am downright FREEZING!"
As they ran past a creepy old, abandoned house, two more tousled heads and pink, bare shoulders emerged from the bushes.
"Uh, guys?" One of the boys called out to the tiny lads as they ran past. "C-can you help us find our clothes?"
"Y-Yeah! It's getting chilly back here!"
Flynn glared up at them. "Do we LOOK like we know where your clothes are? We don't even know where our OWN clothes are!"
The two boys smirked as they watched Flynn and Henry dash past, their iridescent white backsides wiggling frantically as they ran.
One boy snorted. "So that's why it's called Shake It Up!"
Flynn and Henry's blushes deepened. "Ah, shut up!"
Meanwhile, at a Fifties era YMCA, a father-son swim was about to begin.
The fathers and their teen sons were lined up by the pool listening to a lecture on water safety from the pool's swimming coach. Two pre-teens, Beaver Cleaver and Ernie Douglas, were seated on a nearby bench. As was the custom of the time, the two pre-teens were both completely naked.
"I don't see why WE gotta swim nude and THEY getta wear suits..." groused Beaver to his partner in bareness.
"Ah, it's some sort of old rule!" Ernie removed his glasses, breathed on them, wiped off the lenses with his thumb, and put them back on. The families were all neighbors and had been going to this YMCA for years.
"Now boys," Jim Anderson lectured from his place in line. "You've all taken swim classes here before. You know the rules. Big people have to wear suits to maintain public decency. You little guys, however, can go without."
The boys grimaced in sullen resignation.
"At least now we're not that only ones..." Beaver muttered.
As was customary for the time, the two pre-teen boys were stark naked. Less customary, so was the swim coach.
"THERE WILL BE NO RUNNING BY THE POOL!" squeaked the tiny coach, who had dwindled down into a tiny ten year old cherub some time earlier. He shouted shrilly at the top of his little lungs as he strutted back and forth in front of the swimmers' feet. "THE WET FLOOR CREATES A SLIPPING HAZARD!"
He scowled fiercely, his wee chest puffed out, trying to exude an air of authority despite his small size and prepubescent nakedness. His bright red face, however, gave his embarrassment away.
And that wasn't the only bright red thing. As they'd all heard, a couple hours ago, one of the rowdier boys had recently reacted to a rebuke by turning the coach over his knee and giving him a sound spanking. The boy, they all knew, had been banned from the YMCA for life.
"ROUGH-HOUSING AND HORSEPLAY IS NOT PERMITTED!" the tiny coach shouted up at them. He was making a concerted effort not to display his reddened behind to his giant audience but the boys all nudged each other every time it peeked out. The various fathers shushed them but a couple of them had trouble suppressing a smile themselves. They'd all been coming there for quite some time and were all quite familiar with this coach. This was, however, the first time they'd encountered him since his reduction. The boys were very much enjoying thr sight and, to be honest, the fathers couldn't help being a bit amused as well.
There were six father-son duos lined up at the pool: Ozzie and Ricky Nelson, Ward and Wally Cleaver, Alex and Jeff Stone, Martin and Ross Lane, Jim and Bud Anderson, and Steve and Chip Douglas. As was also the custom of the time, they were all wearing swimtrunks. The boys smiled at each other.
"Hey, Wally..." Ross whispered loud enough for everyone to hear.
"Remember when we first came here and the coach taught us?"
"You mean when he had on a suit and we had to go naked? "
"Yeah!" Ross grinned. "Times sure have changed, haven't they?"
They all adjusted their waistbands as they gazed down at the blushing, bare bottomed boy coach.
The coach ended his lecture. "ALL RIGHT, YOU GUYS!"
He went to blow his whistle... and suddenly realized he didn't have it. He looked around and finally spotted it on the bench next to the two younger boys.
Faced with no alternative, he turned and marched across the room, his miniature rump glowing almost as red as his face. There was a chorus of snorts and clumsily suppressed laughter.
"Hey guys!" Ricky whispered to the others. "Remember that time the coach spanked me in front of everyone? I had to walk around all red back there for the rest of the week!"
"Boy!" Bud grinned. "That must've been embarrassing!"
"Yeah!" Ricky nodded. "And it really stung too!"
The coach's blush deepened and he fought the urge to rub his sore backside while the boys looked on, gloating.
After what seemed to be an eternity, he approached the bench. Beaver and Ernie, both giants to him, looked down warily as he stood near their bare feet and tried to grab his whistle. It dangled over the side, just out of his reach. Gritting his teeth, he jumped several times, trying to grab it. He nudged the whistle slightly with the tips of his fingers but it still remained out of his grasp.
Finally, Beaver took pity on him. "Need a hand, little fella?"
He nudged the whistle over so the coach could grab it. Beet red, the coach seized it, held it up, and realized it was way too big for him to blow. The mouthpiece was almost as wide as his entire head.
The coach turned back to glare at his amused audience, struggling to hold back tears.
"OH, JUST GO! GO!"
They all looked at one another. "WHAT'D HE SAY?"
Ernie shouted, "HE SAID GO!"
They all nodded and plunged into the water.
The coach stood nursing his humiliation. Then he yelped.
Ernie had leaned down and touched him with one finger.
"Wow!" he gasped in amazement to Beaver. "It's actually hot! That must have been some spanking!"
"Yeah," Beaver nodded sadly. "Poor little guy!"
The coach started to respond to the nude young giant, then thought better of it. Instead, he turned and crossed his arms, sulking.
Meanwhile, young Ross Lane surfaced, wiped the water from his eyes, and looked around for his father. Then he heard a high, squeaky voice from the vicinity of his belly button.
"How refreshing!" The tiny, dark-haired boy floating eye-level with Ross' waistband exclaimed. "I really needed this!"
He dove, flashing a porcelain white bare bottom. Ross grabbed his glasses from the place by the pool where he'd left them, put them on, and stared down at the scrawny, skinny-dipping little mite in shock.
He looked around to see if he could find his dad's suit floating in the water. He couldn't. It was just gone.
His diminished dad didn't seem to notice his new size, his regressed age, or his complete nakedness. Ross watched, his astonishment turning to amusement as he watched his now preadolescent father splash about.
"I really needed this! I feel twenty years younger!"
"At least!" Ross giggled.
Nearby in the Olympic size pool, Alex and Jeff Stone were engaged in a friendly race from one end of the pool to the other. Jeff and his father were neck and neck. Then Jeff was momentarily blinded by a splash. When he could see again, he was startled to realize his own father had been suddenly replaced by a buck naked, five inch tall, preadolescent boy.
The boy swam past him, his wee, rosy rear wiggling quickly as he tapped the rim with his tiny hand.
"Good race, son!" the little boy smiled up at Jeff's nipple. "But I guess you still have a ways to go before you can beat your old dad!"
Jeff watched as the tiny boy struggled to climb out of the now enormous pool. Finally, unable to resist the urge any longer, he surreptitiously gave him a little goose up.
Alex clambered out, pink and gleaming, his dime-sized full moon jiggling as he got to his feet. He strutted about, flexing his prepubescent chest. Jeff couldn't help staring at his father's exposed, undeveloped and completely hairless child pubes.
"Feel up to another race, sport?"
"No thanks," Jeff responded, struggling not to laugh out loud. "I wouldn't want you to risk losing any more than you already have!"
"Huh? I won, sport!"
A puzzled, bare naked Alex Stone scratched the back of his head while his son loomed over him like a giggling giant.
Meanwhile, Ricky Nelson and Bud Anderson exchanged looks of amazed glee as their usually stern and straitlaced fathers undulated past them, transformed into little boys younger than they were, their pale, pudgy little pint-sized posteriors poking in and out of the water.
"Gosh, Jim!" Ozzie peeped, his Marine-short hair making his ears stick out even more. "This water's cold!" He shivered as his little bare bum emerged briefly into the air.
"Ah, don't be such a baby!" Jim squeaked back, his chubby cheeks on either end round with baby fat. "It'll put hair on your chest!"
"Looks like it took it off!" Ricky whispered to Bud.
"Yeah!" Bud snickered. "If it weren't for their boxer shorts tanlines, I'd think they were from the toddlers swim class!"
"Hey, boys!" Ozzie shouted up at the two teens. "Does the water seem cold to you?"
"Not to me!" Ricky laughed, adjusting his bathing trunks.
"Me neither!" Bud smiled, tugging his own trunks up over his belly button. "I guess that's the difference between wearing a bathing suit and wearing your birthday suit!"
"Yes, well, like I said, rules are rules!" scolded tiny Jim Anderson.
"Yeah, I heard!" Ricky snickered. "Grown-ups hafta wear suits for public decency!"
"But little kids can swim in the altogether!"
"I knew we'd end up on this side eventually!" Ricky said to Bud. "But I never thought they'd end up on the other!"
Bud and Ricky smiled smugly, clad in their bathing suits, as their diminished and de-aged dads swam in front of them in their birthday suits.
"And speaking of ends up..." Bud pointed down to their little fathers' bare bottoms flashing white under the water.
Ozzie and Jim exchanged looks.
"What are they so amused about?"
"I guess they don't often see this side of us!"
Beaver and Ernie hurried over from the bench, kneeling by the pool to look down at the swimmers.
"Jeepers!" Ernie exclaimed. "Our dads are kids now!"
"Yeah!" Beaver couldn't repress a gloating smile. "And they gotta swim bare too! I guess they really take that rule seriously! "
Then he spotted his still-big brother in the pool.
"Wally!" The bare bottomed Beaver shouted to his swimsuit sporting sibling. "Where's Dad? Is he...?"
In response, a smirking Wally held up a tiny ten year old also bare bottomed Ward Cleaver, grasping him by his dimpled derriere between thumb and forefinger.
"Beaver!" Wee little Ward squeaked, so faint that Beaver could barely hear him. "It's about time you joined us! Honestly, there's nothing to be shy about!" Beaver looked at his now preadolescent dad's upturned buttcheeks squished between Wally's fingers. "My pals and I would go swimming nude in the creek by the railroad tracks! We'd have to duck down in the water when a train went by!"
Wally chuckled, "At least he doesn't have to worry about trains now!"
Beaver stared, trying not to giggle, at his boy-sized father. "Wow! Won't Mom be surprised!"
Ernie, meanwhile, held his tiny father in the palm of his hand while Chip observed, smiling, from the water.
"They should insulate this place better!" complained little boy Steve Douglas, hopping from foot to foot while Ernie tried not to drop him. "There's a terrible draft!"
Chip laughed, looking from his little brother's exposed, hairless genitals to his now little father's equally exposed, equally hairless equipment.
"I think I see a family resemblance!"
Ernie made a wry face at his big brother.
"Hold steady, Ernie!" Steve shouted up at his youngest son. "I'm going to show you boys my jack-knife!"
Chip cackled. "I think he already has!"
Teensy Steve Douglas bounced up and down as Ernie held him over the water. Parts of him bounced a bit more than others, though in their present state, there wasn't much to bounce. He leapt from Ernie's fingers, bent in midair to touch his toes, then splashed into the water.
He surfaced a moment later and looked up at Ernie. "How about you trying it, sport?"
Ernie swallowed, looking down at the tiny swimmer. "I... Uh..."
Chip leaned over to whisper, "If you landed on him, you'd probably crush him!"
"Uh, yeah..." Ernie smiled nervously. "I, uh, I'll try it later..."
Beaver had sat down by the edge of the pool, letting his legs dangle in the water. Tiny Ward walked behind him.
"Y'aren't swimming, Beav?" Wally observed with bemusement his dad was only slightly taller than the portion of his little brother's crack that stuck out above the pool tile. "I know you're embarrassed right now but once you get in, you won't feel as exposed. It's a little cold but..."
"Speaking of little cold butts..." snickered Wally.
Beaver blushed, pressing his knees together. "Ah, cut it out, Wally..."
Wally mussed his little brother's hair, then dove into the pool again, swimming over to join the other teens.
"Isn't this GREAT?" Jeff Stone exclaimed.
"Yeah!" Ricky Nelson whooped. "Now WE'RE the grown-ups!"
"And they're just little squirts!" added a gloating Chip Douglas.
"With REALLY little squirters!" Bud blurted out.
Then Ross felt a slight tug on his suit. He looked down and saw his tiny dad bobbing like a little pink cork in the water.
"Hey, sport!" he squeaked up at the boys. "Could you and your pals move outta the way? We old fogeys are going to race from one side of the pool to the other."
"Huh? Oh..." Ross smiled down at Martin, whose scrawny boy chest rose and fell in the water. "Sure thing, Dad!"
"Thanks, buddy!" Martin grinned up at him, giving Ross a light smack on his swimsuit-covered tuchus before swimming off, his own not at all covered tuchus pale under the chlorinated pool water.
After swimming a foot or so, he turned over and addressed them again.
"You boys can join us, if you'd like..."
They all looked at one another, shoulders quaking with silent mirth.
"Nah, that's okay!" Ross told his dinky dad. "Maybe later we can race the winner!"
"Suit yourself!" shrugged Martin, swimming away.
Ross's voice cracked a little as he watched his preadolescent dad's wiggling bare behind. "And speaking of suits..."
"Well, you heard the man!" Bud waved his hands. "Give 'em room!"
"Yeah!" Jeff chuckled. "They need a LOT of space!"
"Oughta be quite a race," Chip observed. "Skins vs. Skins!"
"Hey, look!" Bud directed his friends' attention to the six pint-sized boys clambering out of the water, a little row of pale white bottoms bouncing, jiggling and shining in the light. "Look at those little cracks! It's like a type writer's comma key got stuck!"
"More like the moons of Saturn!" suggested Chip.
"Can you believe those are our dads?" Jeff giggled.
"That's my dad, alright!" Wally indicated an almost microscopic red mark on Ward's exposed pudgy little boy buttock. "There's his vaccination scar from when he was in the army!" He smiled. "They've all just been turned into little kids!"
Ricky snickered. "Really, REALLY little kids!"
"And naked as the day they were born!" Ross added. "I never thought I'd see my dad like this!"
"Hey," Ricky smiled. "Remember when they used to spank us?"
"Yeah!" Wally nodded. "Back when we were little kids..."
"And now THEY'RE little kids..." Jeff's grin widened. "Really, REALLY little kids..."
They all exchanged looks. And grins.
Meanwhile, Beaver and Ernie sat also watching with amusement six pink little wet frogs struggling to emerge from the pool.
"They really ought to install some ladders or something to make it easier to get in and out!" griped little Ozzie Nelson.
"I'll say!" little Martin Stone complained. "You could break your neck climbing out of here!"
"Who was this pool made for anyway?" little Steve Douglas groused. He looked way, way up at Ernie, who was still struggling to keep a straight face looking down from on high at his reduced dad's bare, jiggling backside. "Say, have you kids had any trouble getting in and out of the water?"
"Not us!" Ernie smiled down at his wee little father, whose puny boyhood wiggled back and forth as he heaved his scrawny carcass up onto the tile.
Beaver shook his head in agreement with Ernie. "Me neither!" He reached down and lifted a couple of the tiny boys up, sitting them down on their feet by the rim of the pool. "Maybe you guys need to ask someone bigger for help!"
"What did he mean by that?" little Jim Anderson asked as Beaver set him down.
"Oh, you know boys!" little Ward Cleaver shrugged. "They always have to have their little cracks!"
There was a cry of vengeful glee and the tiny boy coach stormed back into the picture. With a mocking laugh, he walked past Ernie Douglas's huge, dimpled thigh and accosted the shrunken, age-regressed dads.
"Ha!" he smirked, crossing his arms smugly over his hairless little chest. "Not so funny anymore, is it?"
Only a few minutes ago, the former men had been giants towering over him. Now they were as tiny as he was, as bare as he was, and as regressed as he was. He revelled in the sight, waiting to enjoy the shrunken dads' embarrassment.
"Oh. Hi, Coach," tiny Ozzie said casually. He looked the coach over. "There's something different about you..."
"You bet there is!" His smirk widened as he checked out the various dads' boyhoods, now as tiny and hairless as his own. "You're down to my size now! Humiliating, isn't it? You're younger than your own sons! And so small they can hold you in the palm of their hands! And naked as jaybirds so everyone can see your little hairless wieners!" He gloated. "I'll bet you're all mortified!"
"Yes, I suppose so," Steve shrugged his scrawny boy shoulders. "And how's things been with you?"
Ward clapped him on the back. "I'm just glad you're feeling better. You seemed like such a sore head before..."
"It wasn't his head that was sore!" giggled Beaver, looking at the two boys' bottoms as they stood side by side. The coach's rear was still a bright fire engine red while his dad's rump was pasty white.
The coach glared up at him, scowling.
"Well, whatever it was, I'm glad you're feeling better!" Ward patted the coach's bare back. The coach's bare backside tightened slightly.
"Hey!" tiny Alex Stone called out. "Y'wanna join our race? To the other side of the pool and back!"
The coach stared at them in utter confusion.
"Ah, c'mon!" Jim Anderson cajoled good naturedly. "You can at least start us off!"
Quaking with frustration, the thwarted coach padded away, going around and leaning back against what he at first thought was a wall. A moment later, he yelped in shock upon realizing what he was leaning against was Beaver's right buttcheek.
"Hey," Beaver turned his head to look down at him. "Are you able to sit down? Cause I remember one time I got spanked really hard and I couldn't sit down without a pillow..."
The coach glared murderously up at him, blushing from head to toe, one portion of his teensy anatomy still much redder than the rest of him.
"In fact..." Beaver leaned down to get a better look at the little coach. "I think it was you who spanked me! Back when you was bigger than me."
The coach gulped, contemplating Beaver's now enormous buttock and his own puny, still very sore set.
"Gee!" Beaver giggled. "I bet I could spank you now!"
All the color drained from the coach's face as he stared up at the grinning juvenile giant.
"You... You... You better not!" The coach squeaked up at him, his voice even more shrill than before. "You... You... You...!"
He fled, running out of the room, his blazing red rear end wiggling frantically. Beaver and Ernie couldn't resist giggling.
"I wasn't gonna!" Beaver protested to Ernie. "I don't wanna get expelled..."
"Well boys," tiny Ozzie Nelson patted Ernie's knee, "looks like it's up to you to start the race!"
"Okay, sure!" Ernie nodded. He resisted the urge to pat the tiny chap on the head.
They scooted back so that the dads turned lads could line up by the rim of the pool. Sitting back on their haunches, the boys watched the wee, pink midgets, all of them knee-level, rush around finding their place.
"All right," Ernie announced, "take your positions!"
All six of the diminutive dads bent over, six lily white little full moons flashing up at a jaw-dropped Ernie and Beaver. The boys stared, then dissolved into giggles.
"Bottoms up!" Beaver whispered to Ernie.
"What a crack-up!" Ernie whispered back. "Six of 'em, in fact!"
"Hey! What are you two laughing about?" wee little Ward Cleaver demanded, his chubby little bare bottom jiggling as he shifted about. "You've been acting rather cheeky lately..."
"They certainly have!" Small-fry Steve Douglas pouted. "I can't help feeling I'm being made the butt of some joke!" His own tiny, upturned bare butt glistened pearly white under the fluorescent lights.
"Oh, don't get upset, guys!" Miniature Martin Lane's dimpled, puny little bare buns were so skinny and flat that even with him bent over, they hardly stuck out at all. "They're just boys!" His scrawny rear faced Beaver and Ernie, crack weirdly lopsided. "It's true right now we don't see eye to eye..."
"Well, perhaps..." mused adorable, abbreviated Alex Stone, his chubby little bare behind wiggling back and forth. "But I'm starting to feel like an absolute ass!"
"I don't know what it is," atom-sized Ozzie Nelson mused, his pint-sized, rosy cheeked bare bum on full display. "But I feel like our dignity is being severely compromised!"
"I guess we'll just have to grin and bear it!" shrugged junior Jim Anderson, his rounded and pale little bare backside shivering in the slight draft. "Let's just try not to get caught with our pants down!"
"Too late!" Ernie whispered.
"But they don't need pants!" Beaver whispered back. "They need diapers!"
"Come on, you guys!" an impatient Alex Stone whined, his pale little tushie bouncing up and down. "We're waiting! Get a wiggle on!"
The two giant boys bit their lips to keep from guffawing out loud.
"Yeah, fellas!" Martin Lane's crack shifted. "What's the hold up? Start us off already!"
Ernie and Beaver knelt by the pool peering down at the six pugnacious, pale and pint-sized posteriors. It was all they could do not to pinch them.
"S-Sorry, guys... Sirs!" Beaver sputtered. "We're just getting ready..."
"Well, we're waiting here!" Steve Douglas insisted, his little cheeks flushing. "Come on, let's get started! Goose it up, boys!"
The two giants' eyes widened and they exchanged grins, looking down at the little row of itsy-bitsy babyish boy bottoms.
"Well," Ernie nodded gleefully, "you heard him!"
A moment later, six tiny jaws dropped, twelve eyes bulged, and twenty-four cheeks turned bright red.
Startled by the sudden and unexpected goosing, the tiny dads leapt forward into the water and started swimming.
"Well," Beaver shrugged, "they asked for it!"
Their race begun, the little swimmers glided through the water, red-faced and still startled.
"Gosh!" gasped Ozzie Nelson. "What was THAT?"
"I don't know!" confessed a nonplussed Ward Cleaver. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think... Nah, they couldn't have..."
All of them kept themselves tightly clenched though, just in case.
This did nothing to protect them from their adolescent sons, who floated quietly toward them from the rear.
"We really shouldn't..." confessed Ross.
"But honestly, how can we not?" Jeff grinned.
Drifting behind the tiny swimmers, each giant teen reached down and started flicking with thumb and forefinger the miniature bare buttocks of his diminished and de-aged dad. The wee fathers yelped, little rears wiggling and jiggling.
Some of the teens smacked the little gyrating bottoms square in the center. Others alternated cheeks. It all had the same effect as the dads' teensy little rear ends grew more and more red and their squeaks became more frantic.
After what seemed an eternity to the dinky dads and not nearly long enough to the teen sons, they reached the other side of the pool. At that point, nobody noticed who won the race. They all struggled to climb out, the boys continuing their attack on the pudgy little frantically wiggling behinds.
The tiny dads bounded onto the tile, clutching their stinging little rumps and doing a frantic, improvised war dance, all howling at the top of their lungs. Their bottoms glowed like red hot coals.
Their sons watched with great amusement, lining up in the water and leaning against the tile, exchanging smirks and snickering.
"Boy! Listen to 'em yelp!" Bud Anderson cackled.
"Like a bunch of wild Indians!" Ross Lane straightened his glasses.
"More like screaming babies!" Chip Douglas amended.
The pint-sized boys hopped from one foot to another, their tiny tummies going in and out, their wee willies bouncing, their faces screwed up in looks of abject misery.
"Boy! If I only had a camera!" Jeff Stone chuckled.
"Lookit the little brats!" Wally Cleaver sneered.
"Yeah! When it comes to spankings, we don't mess around, boy!" Ricky Nelson giggled.
As they enjoyed the show, however, something very strange began to happen. Suddenly, they found themselves towering less and less over their dancing, diminished dads. Their voices became higher, their bodies became less developed, and their faces became softer and rounder.
As they dwindled, more and more of their bodies emerged from the water, their skinny arms still leaning against the tile. Finally, the water level was just beneath their feet, their tiny legs kicking in midair. Their preadolescent lily white bare bottoms swayed back and forth.
"Hey, look!" Beaver exclaimed to Ernie. "Somebody lost something!"
They giggled at the new row of pasty white prepubescent full moons shining at them from across the pool.
The newly teeny ex-teens were oblivious, still watching the wardance. Somehow, they hadn't even noticed they now had to look up instead of down, or that their once-tiny fathers were now the same puny size they were.
"What a bunch of crybabies!" gloated itty-bitty Bud Anderson, his rounded and pale little bare backside shivering in the slight draft.
"Yeah!" Ross Lane straightened his glasses, his dimpled, puny little bare buns so skinny and flat they hardly stuck out at all. "No dignity at all!"
"I'll bet they're embarrassed!" crowed Chip Douglas, his tiny bare butt glistening pearly white under the fluorescent lights.
"I sure would be!" Jeff Stone snickered, his chubby little bare behind wiggling back and forth. "I would die if anyone saw me like that!"
"Yeah!" Wally Cleaver snorted, his chubby little bare bottom jiggling as it shifted about. "How humiliating!"
"I sure wouldn't carry on like that!" Ricky Nelson sneered, his pint-sized, rosy cheeked bare bum on full display. "You'd never see me crack!" He blinked. "Hey! What happened to my voice?"
There was a breeze and all six boys shivered, goose pimples forming in very gooseable areas.
"Hey guys... Any of you feel a draft?"
Ernie and Beaver, meanwhile, noticed their giggling had dropped to a lower register. They looked at one another, realizing they were both somehow teenagers now.
"Hey!" Beaver gulped in his now deeper voice. "What happened?"
"Who knows?" shrugged Ernie. "But you know the rules!"
"Yeah!" Beaver grinned ear to ear. "Big people have to wear suits to maintain public decency!"
The two of them adjusted their swimtrunks as they looked down at the twelve buck naked, bare bottomed boys climbing out of the pool, their hairless little prepubescent willies waggling about.
"But little guys can go without!"
Meanwhile, a gang of kids were gathered on an improvised football field in a vacant lot in a small town. A young girl happened along and looked over at the group, curious. She walked around the dilapidated picket fence to join them.
"Hi, Darla!" She waved to her friend. "What's going on?"
"Oh, hi Sally!" Darla waved back, giggling. "The boys are playing football! Butch's Assassins against Spike's Tigers!"
"Oh goodness!" Sally gasped. "Those boys are a bunch of roughnecks! I certainly hope nobody gets hurt!" She looked around. "When does the game start?"
"We're in the second quarter now!" Darla laughed. "And so far, no one's scored a single point!"
Sally looked confused.
"Come, see for yourself!"
She motioned Sally over. The new girl squeezed into the huddle in the center of the field. Darla motioned for her to look down and she did.
"OH... Oh... My!" She dissolved into giggles.
A regulation size football sat in the middle of the field in exactly the same place it had been placed earlier that afternoon. And on either side were gathered two tiny teams. Butch's entire team were on one side, Spike's team was on the other. All the players were so small they could barely see over the top of the ball and all of them were as naked as the day they were born. Two groups of eleven boys, all red faced and rosy cheeked, were pushing with all their might against either side of the ball, but none of them could budge it an inch.
"Come on, you guys!" squeaked Butch, his little pink bare body drenched with sweat. He glared at his equally puny, pink, and sweaty opponent. "Ah, give up already!"
"YOU give up!" shouted Spike, his face beet red from exertion, mortification, or both. "Doggone it! I'll get you for this!"
The tiny boys' faces were grimacing and they blinked back tears of humiliation. Their pint-sized bare bottoms wiggled frantically as they hurled themselves into the ball, to no avail.
"They shrank right after they took the field!" Spanky exclaimed gleefully. "And neither of 'em was willing to forfeit!"
Sally stared down in amazed, amused wonder. She recognized pretty much all the boys on both teams, though she had to squint to make out their miniature faces. Their miniature other parts she was less familiar with, but they amused her too.
"Hey, look!" One girl snickered at one exposed little team captain. "Y'think that's why they call him Spike?"
"I dunno," a full-sized boy cackled. "But I know that's why they call him Woim!"
Another girl smiled over at Darla. "So THAT'S what you see in Butch!"
"Oh, yes!" Darla smirked. "He has the body of a Roman god! Too bad it's Cupid!"
"Lookit those little cracks!" Another boy laughed. "I'd goose 'em but my finger's too big!"
"HEY!" The indignant little Spike glared up at the amused mob of fully clothed giant kids enjoying the show. "YOU GUYS BETTER KNOCK IT OFF OR..."
"Or what?" sneered another boy down at the naked little tough guy. "You'll punch us in the ankle?"
"Ah..." Scowling furiously up at the boy's shoe lace, a chagrined Spike backed off.
A kid guffawed. "Which one's the tight end?"
Another kid: "Looks like they all are!"
"Maybe they should write their numbers on their bums so we can tell 'em apart!"
"Yeah! One on each cheek!"
A kid reached down to tickle a particularly prominent and vulnerable area on one of the captains. "Kootchie koo!"
"YOW!" yelped Butch, bolting upright and looking around for the culprit. "DARN IT! SPANKY, CAN'T YOU DO SOMETHING?"
"Sorry, Butch!" Spanky shrugged, grinning ear to ear. "But you all insisted on playing! If either of you guys wanna forfeit the game..."
The two tiny, stark naked team captains glared murderously at one another from across the enormous football, their scrawny chests heaving, their pipsqueak posteriors jiggling, their faces burning with embarrassment.
"NEVER!" They shouted.
They hurled their little bare bodies against the ball again, resuming their war. Their thoroughly humiliated roughneck turned bare butt teams miserably joined in.
Spanky smiled. "Stubborn little fellers, ain't they?"
"They certainly are!" Sally giggled. "I wonder what they'll die of first: Exhaustion, embarrassment, pneumonia, or diaper rash!"
"I dunno," Spanky giggled back. "But they're sure gonna get some pretty bad sunburns!"
The tiny, bubblegum pink, pugnacious little squirts squeaked angrily at each other and continued their itty-bitty, bare bottomed battle. Far above them, the bemused neighborhood kids all huddled around to watch.
Over the hills and far away in the magical land where fairy tales happen, three tiny pink mites stood on tiptoe peeping into the window of a human-sized tumbledown cottage.
Within the cottage, a sweet if slightly senile and stone deaf old lady poured water into a large bowl containing a mortified and panicked cherub boy. He struggled to climb out while also trying to hide his nakedness.
"There, there..." The sweet old lady cooed, pushing him gently with his thumb into the water. "Poor little baby, abandoned and all alone! I will take care of you! I've always wanted a baby!"
"But I'm NOT a baby!" squeaked the boy, to no avail. "I'm a grown man! GLURP!"
"Not any more!" giggled one of the boys watching from the window, a wide-eyed waif with an expressive face and a mischievous smile.
"That is admittedly true, Pulgarcito," the skinny boy on his left scolded, pushing back the wire-frame glasses that kept sliding to the edge of his button nose. "But it is beside the point and rather unkind! That happens to be a relative of yours! Tom Thumb Junior is newly arrived in our land and he clearly needs our help!"
Three pairs of eyes --Four, if one counts Tom-- bulged as the giant old lady lifted the shivering boy from the water and ran his rosy little bare backside across a cake of soap to work up a lather. Three other rosy little bare backsides puckered in sympathy.
"That may be true," replied the chubby little red-haired boy on Pulgarcito's right. "But what can we do? We're just as tiny and naked and helpless as he is!"
Pulgarcito rolled his eyes. "Oh no! Here goes El Pocito Ogro again!"
"I was once The Mighty Ogre!" wailed the little red-haired boy. "I was a giant! The Earth trembled under my feet when I walked! Entire villages would tremble in terror before me!" He sobbed, looking down at his boy boobs and round, pink little tummy. "Now... NOW look at me! The mice in my old castle are bigger than me! I have to flee to avoid getting stepped on! The villagers that used to fear me now give mi chico desnudo nalgas azotainas! It is so humiliating!"
Pulgarcito smiled and gave El Pocito Ogro a friendly smack on his chico desnudo nalgas. "I like you better this way!" he laughed. "Before, you were big and mean and scary! Now you and Pocito Merlin are my size! You are my funny friends and we can play games together!"
"True, true..." the tiny Ogre sighed. "And you are my true and dear friend, Pulgarcito! But being a child again..."
"And what's wrong with being a child?" Pocito Merlin demanded, thrusting out his puny chest. "I like it far better than being a feeble old man! My wits are sharper and my health is much better this way!"
"Si!" Pulgarcito laughed. "And you are both so cute now!"
Merlin reddened slightly. "Ah, yes," he coughed, trying to ignore Pulgarcito's obvious amusement in their bodies now being as prepubescent and hairless as his own. "Still, there is the matter at hand!"
They looked back inside the cottage to see the squawking, protesting Tom Thumb Junior's bare behind being scrubbed by the old lady with a wire-hair brush.
"Hey! Stop that! Watch it! That's my skin! Darn it! Knock it off! I'm sensitive back there!"
Three equally sensitive little bare behinds, all as pink and round as his, wiggled outside.
"Time is wasting!" Little Merlin pushed his glasses, his only garment, back up his nose, and climbed awkwardly up onto the windowsill, his wee testicles swaying in the breeze. "Let us go save that unfortunate soul!"
"Oh... Very well..." The Ogre's big belly got in the way as he tried to climb. A giggling Pulgarcito gave his round, blubbery bottom a shove to help him up, then clambered up himself.
The three boys stood there a moment, their boyhoods jiggling.
"But friend Merlin..." Pulgarcito asked. "We cannot approach the old woman like this! We are all three traseros desnudos naked!"
"True!" The ex-Ogre whined. "It would be utterly embarrassing!"
"Don't worry!" Pocito Merlin assured them. "I have a plan!"
Less than a half-hour later, four freshly scrubbed, utterly humiliated tiny boys lay side by side on a bearskin rug, their entire bodies burning with embarrassment, baby bonnets tied to their heads, their little heart-shaped bare bottoms freshly dusted with talcum powder.
"Oh, aren't you all the CUTEST little babies!" The old lady exclaimed high above them. "Oh, you're all so precious! I'm going to take care of you all forever!"
"Friend Merlin," Pulgarcito growled through clenched teeth. "Please leave me out of any further rescue missions!"
"Oh, please don't let any of my old friends and colleagues see me like this!" The pink-cheeked little Ogre sobbed. "I would die on the spot!"
"Well," Tom Thumb Junior sighed. "Thanks for trying anyway, guys..."
"You are most welcome..." Merlin leaned on his elbows, looking up at the old lady fussing about. "Let's just hope she's not a believer in corporal punishment..."
Unbeknownst to any of them, their still normal-sized friend and ally Little Red Riding Hood would be passing by shortly. Whether that would make them feel any better is debatable.
And elsewhere, in the office of Fargo North, Decoder, a pile of newspapers lay on the seat of Fargo's office chair. There was a knock on the door and a sudden snort came from under the papers.
"Huh? Whuh... Whuh... Huh?"
There was another knock on the door.
The head of a tiny boy with dark, pomaded hair emerged from the pile of newspapers.
"What happened?" the tiny boy squeaked, blinking. "I fall asleep reading the paper and suddenly I'm buried in recycling! No wonder I never get past the comics page! I'll never find out what happens with Dick Tracy at this rate!"
Another knock on the door.
"I wish someone would get that. Oh yeah, I have to get that! After all, it's my office!"
He hopped out of his chair... and fell all the way to the ground. At his size, it was quite a drop.
"Whoah!" Fargo looked up. "One of these days, I'll hafta get that chair fixed!"
Another knock on the door.
Fargo got up and straightened the nonexistent collar on his nonexistent trenchcoat. "I'm coming! I'm..."
He padded out from behind his desk and was confronted with an equally tiny, also naked blonde boy.
"Buddy!" He exclaimed. Then he noticed the normally much shorter Short Circus drummer was eye level. "Hey, are you standing on a box or...? Say, how'd you get in here anyway?"
"I came around the set backdrop!" Buddy gasped, hands over his privates. "I was on my way to rehearsal when this happened! I ran all the way here! But gee, Mister North! I guess you're in the same fix I am!"
"I am? I mean, we are?" Fargo rubbed his bare arms. "Boy! The office seems awfully breezy today..."
There was another knock on the door. Both boys turned to look.
"Go around the backdrop!" Buddy shouted.
"Okay!" shouted a voice.
A moment later, another tiny, naked boy ran around to join the others.
"Jesse!" Little Fargo North exclaimed. "Wow, all you Short Circus kids are as big as me now! You really must have grown!"
Jesse and Buddy exchanged looks.
"And yet, I feel like I'm missing something..." He stroked his chin, his tiny boyhood waggling. "Something having to do with Polyester..."
Jesse sighed. "Uh, we're naked!"
Little Fargo nodded. "So you are, so you... YIPES!" He quckly dragged the boys with him inside. He walked in the middle, one arm around the neck of either boy. Their bare backsides rose and fell, each cheek as plump and rosy as the other.
"You kids can't run around in the altogether!" Little Fargo exclaimed, his teensy peen no larger than theirs. "You'll get wind burn or something! My gosh! Old Lady Mcguiredoodle would be scandalized!"
"Yeah! We know!" Buddy sobbed. "What'll we do? We sure can't go to rehearsal like THIS!"
"Yeah!" laughed Jesse. "I'd like to see you play drums like that! The stick's taller than you now!"
"Well, at least I play an instrument!" Buddy sniffed. "What do you do? Dance, wiggle, and mug?"
"And sing," added Jesse. "By the time I came along, we'd dispensed with the sad charade that we were playing our own instruments!"
Little Fargo North stood between them, a hand on each hairless chest. "Guys, guys! Let's not come to blows here! Someone might get hurt! Possibly me!"
Before either boy could respond they yelped with surprise, bolting upright.
"OKAY, WHO'S THE WISE GUY?" Buddy grabbed his pudgy bare backside. "Someone just goosed me!"
"He goosed me, too!" exclaimed Jesse, rubbing his skinny rear end.
"Goosed you?" Little Fargo North asked. "Goosed you... where?"
"YOU KNOW WHERE!" both blushing boys shouted simultaneously.
"This is too much!" Jesse turned to look behind him. "It's embarrassing enough going like this without..."
"Hey, wait!" Fargo told him. He pointed at the boy's bare bottom. "Someone seems to have written something on your... um... person!"
It was true. Letters had suddenly appeared on either of Jesse's buttcheeks, two high and two low on either side.
Fargo knelt to read them: "RE... TT." He scratched his head. "Doesn't make a lot of what we in the detective game like to call sense!"
He turned to an equally puzzled Buddy. "Maybe... Hey, you were goosed too! Maybe... Would you mind turning around?"
Sighing, an annoyed Buddy turned to display his rear end. As Fargo had guessed, there were letters on his cheeks as well.
"BA... BU..." Little Fargo pondered. "Sounds like something by Desi Arnez!"
Buddy looked over his shoulder. "Who?"
"Never mind!" Fargo put up his hand. "RE. TT. BA. BU." He rubbed his chin. "Hmmm. Sounds like a whole lot of not much."
Jesse nodded. "Maybe if we put our heads together, we can figure it out!"
"Well, maybe not your heads..." Fargo considered. "Here's a wacky idea! Both of you stand next to each other and bend over! Maybe that'll form a word!"
The two boys looked at one another, then at Fargo. "Well... Okay... But don't laugh!"
"Why would I..." He looked at the boys' rumps and snorted. "Okay. No more after..." Another snort. "Okay, I'm done. Let's go!"
The boys took their positions while Little Fargo read their protruding posteriors.
He shook his head. "Nope. Still nothing!"
Buddy snapped his fingers. "Hey! What if we trade places?"
"Oh, no!" Fargo shook his head. "I'M certainly not going to..."
"He means the two of us, Fargo!" Jesse walked around to the other side of Buddy. Then they bent over again.
Little Fargo grinned as he figured it out.
"Aha! That's it! That's the message! BARE BUTT!" He looked at the two boys. "Our graffiti fiend has a knack for stating the obvious!"
The two boys straightened up and turned around, reddening.
"Man!" Buddy whined. "We can't run around with 'BARE BUTT' on our bare butts!"
"Yeah!" Jesse pouted. "This is embarrassing enough without... YOW!"
Jesse squealed, clutching his hindquarters and skipping in place. Buddy struggled to keep a straight face.
"What happened?" he asked as solictiously as possible.
"YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED!" Jesse stared daggers at him, face beet red. "Who did it? Did anyone see anything?"
"At this point, I know I've seen more than I ever wanted to," sighed Fargo. "Do you mind...?"
The boys turned and bent forward again.
"Alright, Buddy still says BA... BU. But now Jesse has BY... MS."
Buddy nodded. "So now it's BA... BY... BU... MS."
The two boys looked at each other and each others' rumps. "BABY BUMS???"
Fargo scratched his chin. "Looks like our friend has moved from observing to editorializing..."
"Yeah, well, I'm not walking around with THAT back there!" a mortified Buddy insisted.
"Me neither!" a blushing Jesse chimed in. "Get these letters off us!"
"I'm not really sure how to do that," confessed Little Fargo. "I don't really have a shower in here... Maybe... YEE-AH-HAH!"
Fargo bounced on his toes, looking around nervously. "Hey! What was that?"
Jesse blinked. "What was... WHOOP!"
Fargo nodded. "Yeah! That!"
Buddy crossed his arms, smirking. "Looks like you got goosed AGAAAIIIAHEY!"
Exchanging glares, the two turned around and bent over so Fargo could read them.
He looked at Buddy. "CH...CH."
Then at Jesse. "BY... KS!"
He scratched his head. "Well, that doesn't spell anything! It can't! There aren't any vowels!"
The boys stood up as Little Fargo paced. "Golly, I wonder where those vowels went..."
"I think I've figured it out..." Jesse nudged Buddy and pointed to Fargo's little bare behind.
"You have? Really?" Fargo hurried over to him. "Well, spill it, dimples! Where are the other letters?"
"Right... here!" They turned Little Fargo to reveal he now had letters on his behind too: "UB... EE."
They then stood on either side with him in the middle.
CH... UB... BY
CH... EE... KS."
All three boys sounded out the words. "Ch...ub... by... ch... ee... ks. Chubby cheeks." They looked at each other, then at the words on their bottoms. "CHUBBY CHEEKS?"
"Why that's absurd!" Little Fargo carped, feeling his face. "My face isn't chubby at all! I do my facial exercises every morning!" He started opening and closing his mouth as wide as he could. "One, two, one, two..."
Buddy interrupted. "I don't think he means the cheeks on our faces. I think he means the cheeks the letters are on."
"Oh." Little Fargo considered this. "I don't think I have any exercises for those cheeks. Maybe squats..."
"AH, C'MON!" Jesse complained. "Who's doing this to us! Come out and show yourself!"
"Gladly!" an unfamiliar voice echoed through the office.
A moment later, a menacing figure stepped out from the shadows, a villain with a beard, a turban, and a magic wand he waved about like a baton. He was still a full-grown adult, meaning he towered over the three tiny, butt naked boys.
"It's The Spellbinder!"
"That's right!" he roared down at the blushing, bare bottomed but still defiant mites. "I used my wand to etch messages on your little pink tushies! And there's nothing you can do about it!"
The three naked boys huddled together in terror.
"Can anyone stop this fiend?"
"Will our rear ends be billboards forever?"
"Oh, where is Letterman?"
There was a rustle nearby.
"Wait! Out of the top drawer of the filing cabinet he comes!"
Another pink, tiny child flew from the aforementioned drawer. Faster than a lower-case o... More powerful than a little e... Able to climb capital T in a single afternoon! It's a tot! It's a toy! It's Letterboy!
The Spellbinder recoiled, then stopped. "Letter... BOY?"
A teensy, naked boy with blond, curly hair landed next to the others, thrusting out his puny, prepubescent chest. "I'm Letterboy!"
He looked over the words 'CHUBBY CHEEKS' written across Buddy, Fargo and Jesse's bare behinds.
"Just a moment! I'll fix that!"
He reached for the letter on his varsity sweater... And suddenly discovered he wasn't wearing a sweater, or anything else. He was stark naked.
"Oh my GOSH!"
He dropped into a crouch, turning all kinds of shades of red, looking up at the enormous Spellbinder in dismay.
"Well, well!" The Spellbinder gloated. "Looks like you finally got caught with your pants down! And now, I will have my revenge!"
He waved his wand. All four boys yelped as they were goosed yet again. Then all four turned to display the letters now emblazoned on their rumps.
First, Buddy: "BA... SP..."
Then Fargo: "RE.. AN..."
Then Jesse: "BU... KI..."
And finally, Letterboy: "TT... NG."
They stood hunched over, figuring it out. "BA... RE... BU... TT... SP... AN... KI... NG?"
Then, to their dismay, they figured it out. "BARE BUTT SPANKING." Their lower lips trembled.
"Well, like they say," The Spellbinder gloated, waving his wand like a switch. "The good guys always rise up in the end!"
"Hey," Jesse whispered to the others, "y'think there's any chance Spider-man will turn up?"
Fargo sighed. "The way this day is going, we'll be lucky if we get Blue Beetle!"
The boys' upturned rear ends took on a reddish glow.
And some distance away in a different time period in the meeting room of The Justice Society of America's distinguished brownstone mansion, a chubby, naked boy with curly blond hair who stood only a few inches high addressed the team.
"Members of The Justice Society," he intoned in a high, sweet voice, "I, King Dan Cupid of Cherub-Land, thank you for your gallant actions to protect my beloved kingdom!"
"D-Don't mention it, your majesty," replied a much smaller, younger, and barer than usual Hawkman.
Hawkman's renowned costume with the incredible Nth Metal wings that allowed him to defy gravity was piled in a corner along with the rest of the JSA members' garments. The erstwhile chairman of the Justice Society stood completely naked on the polished wood table, shrunken down to the same size and young age as the pudgy, pink-cheeked cherub before him. He stood at attention, excruciatingly aware of his prepubescent nudity. His aquiline boy face was bright red, his usually magnificent chest now pink and hairless with protruding boy boobs. His unshod little feet were tight together. At the moment, he looked less like a Hawkman than a plucked chicken.
"We very much appreciate your sacrifices on our behalf," Dan Cupid droned on, now standing before Superman. "For though crossing over into our world meant transforming into cherubim and temporarily sacrificing your mighty powers, you did so without hesitation!"
"T-Think nothing of it, y-your majesty!" said the Man of Steel, now more the Boy of Squeals, his no longer invulnerable naked boy flesh goose-pimpled and pale.
Dan Cupid continued, now standing before Batman. "You even had to shed your impressive costumes and weaponry, going into battle completely unarmed!"
"Q-Quite all right, sir!" said the blushing, bare bottomed little Bat boy, his jaw clenched, his usual chilling baritone now a falsetto.
"Certainly, in your current state, you could hardly hope to intimidate your foes as you usually do!" the rotund little king addressed The Spectre. "Yet you bravely stood fast!"
"It... It was nothing," squeaked the red haired, freckle-faced boy who had been The Spectre. Usually, his eyes burned with the fires of vengeance. Now his little face burned with the blush of embarrassment.
"And despite being stripped of all advantage, your powers, your weapons, your uniforms, even your size, you fought!"
"D-Don't mention it," whimpered The Flash, his ribs visible through the skin of his exposed midsection, his dimpled thighs shivering. "Please don't..."
"You fought, not as men, but as cherubs, wee and bare! I'm sure it was like a bad dream to some of you..."
"Y-You can say that again," sighed the portly, nebbishy boy who had been The Sandman.
"I would imagine many of you were embarrassed..."
"N-No kidding!" the sulking, blushing, chubby cheeked strawberry blonde boy who had been The Atom muttered under his breath. Usually, he was the youngest and the shortest member of the team. Now, he was about average. The turn of circumstances brought him no joy whatsoever.
"Yet you charged into the fray as tiny boys, naked as the day you were born!"
"D-Does he have to keep emphasizing our nakedness?" the boy who had been Starman sobbed to himself, rolling his tear-filled eyes heavenward.
"And when captured by our enemies, you endured a boy's punishment!"
"Yeah!" Little Johnny Thunder pouted. "We got spanked! On our bare bottoms!"
He wasn't joking. All the now kid-sized Justice Society heroes' juvenile rear ends glowed like a string of Christmas tree lights as they stood in a row before Dan Cupid. Standing at attention, the boys shifted their weight from one foot to the other, their red buttocks swaying from side to side.
"I have never been so humiliated in my life!" whined dinky, diminished, dimpled Doctor Mid-Nite, his full moon shining.
"Nor have I!" The fair, skinny, wavy-haired waif who had been Doctor Fate grimaced. "We'll never be able to show our faces again!"
"Why not?" sighed the blushing blond boy who had been Green Lantern. "We're showing everything else!"
"Fortunately, your erstwhile secretary Wonder Woman had observed all that transpired through her Magic Sphere."
The boys' blushes deepened as they looked across the table at the Amazing Amazon, their little hands tightly clenched over their puny, hairless private parts. She chuckled gently at their discomfiture.
"You don't have to be so shy, boys!" she teased the teensy, bareassed lads. "I saw everything on the Magic Sphere!" She smiled.
"Well, that doesn't mean you hafta see it in person too!" squeaked a beet red Atom.
"Honestly, at your current age, you don't even have pubes yet!" she reminded them, not unkindly. "There's really not much to see. You're just little boys!"
"Ah, c'mon!" Sandman, now Sandlad, whined, looking down at his pudgy, bald little body. "You don't hafta rub it in!" He and several of the other boys thrust their chests out in a vain attempt to look more muscular.
Dan Cupid continued his speech.
"Cherub Land is forbidden to all females," he reminded them. "For obvious reasons." He blushed at his own nakedness, nowhere near as deeply as the other boys. "But she contacted The Junior Justice Society and dispatched them to rescue you!"
The three young boys from The Justice Society's official fan club sat full-sized and fully clothed at the table, looming over the tiny, naked heroes. They looked down at their pint-sized mentors' blazing bare bottoms, giggling.
"So we went to that weird dimension and stopped the villains and saved the day!" Young Ted Worth said. "I guess we really saved your behinds! Literally!"
"Very funny!" Doll-sized Doctor Mid-Nite whined, his little spine straightening. "We could have done without all the 'kitchy-kitchy koos!"
"Well, can you blame them?" joked Wonder Woman. "You're all just so adorable at that size!"
The boys stared daggers. It failed to make them less cute.
"And we didn't need all that picture you made us pose for lying on a bearskin rug either!"
"Hey!" Eddie Brackus laughed. "It's a memento of our adventure! Boy, won't it look keen in our clubhouse!"
The little heroes were about to protest when Wonder Woman resumed talking.
"Fortunately, we Amazons are familiar with the Cherub World. So instead of having to turn into cherubs, the boys were able to journey there via a special ray invented by my friend Paula."
"That way, we didn't hafta shrink or lose our clothes!" added Eddie Brackus.
"Thank goodness!" giggled Don Brent, looking down at the tiny, crestfallen Justice Society members. "That would've been REALLY embarrassing!"
The boys snorted as the pipsqueak heroes, tiny, nude, and now younger than they were, sulked, little hands still over their puny privates.
"Well, why didn't you use that ray to send US to Cherub Land?" demanded the irate and infantile Atom.
"You didn't ask," Wonder Woman responded. "I wasn't here when you left. If not for the note you left, I wouldn't have known anything about it!"
"That's true," sighed the red-tailed jaybird that once was Hawkman. "Instead of contacting Wonder Woman to see if she could help, we just took off half-cocked..." He reddened, looking down at himself. "Um, as it were..."
"Well, what were we supposed to do?" demanded The Flash. "Dan Cupid said he had to turn us into cherubs! And we certainly weren't going to undress in front of..." He looked up at the amused Amazon, then at his buck naked colleagues. "Ah, gee..."
"Well, what's done is done," sighed Wee Green Lantern, sneaking peeks at the other boys. "No sense in acting like a bunch of crybabies!"
"Yeah!" Don Grant chuckled. "You cried enough when you were getting spanked! Boy, did they howl!"
"Listen, you!" Teeny little Johnny Thunder squeaked over his shoulder up at the giggling giant, his face almost as red as his other end. "Oh, when I get back to my right size..."
"Come to mention it," little Superboy turned to Dan Cupid, "how do we get back to normal?"
"Oh, now that you're back on your own world, you can easily return to your rightful sizes and ages by taking the antidote!"
"Great," sighed Batlad. "So where do we get this antidote?"
"Fortunately, it's quite common here," Wonder Woman told them, stifling a smile. "In fact, I was able to pick it up at the corner drugstore!"
She picked a bottle up and showed them the label. The Junior Justice Society boys dissolved into laughter while the tiny, mortified heroes raged.
"Blast it! Haven't we been humiliated ENOUGH?"
"At this point, I must take my leave," Dan Cupid announced, slowly fading into nothingness.
"I would imagine so," smiled Wonder Woman. "Come on, boys! Line up!"
"Oh.... All right..."
Giggling, the Junior Justice Society boys watched gleefully as the tiny, furious little red-cheeked Justice Society boys prepared for their doses of Castor Oil.