Saw Jerry with the Remote The Remote of Transformation chapter 4 by deleted_user

The neon lights of the club washed over Jerry in waves of electric blue and hot pink, the bass vibrating so violently it felt like a second heartbeat. He was riding an absolute high, pushing past the packed bar with a smirk still plastered on his face. For the first time in his life, he felt like the smartest, most powerful guy in the room.

Then, a hand clamped down firmly on his shoulder.

Jerry stiffened, his stomach doing a sudden, sickening drop. Had the bouncer somehow figured it out? Had the club security caught him?

He turned around slowly, already preparing a stuttered excuse, but stopped short. Standing in front of him wasn't a seven-foot-tall gorilla in a black polo. It was a woman in her late twenties, sporting a sharp asymmetrical haircut, an oversized leather jacket, and an expression of intense, sharp-eyed amusement. She wasn't looking at his face; her eyes were locked entirely on his right jacket pocket, where his hand was still awkwardly clutching the plastic remote.

"Relax, car salesman," she purred, leaning in close so her voice could cut through the thumping house music. She smelled like expensive perfume and clove cigarettes. "I’m not club security."

Jerry swallowed hard, trying to play it cool. "Uh, do I know you?"

"No, but I know what you did out there," she said, a slow, wicked grin spreading across her lips. She stepped closer, invading his personal space and crowding him against the edge of the bar. "I was sitting in my car right across the street when the magic happened. One second, Big Mike is a walking brick wall. The next, he’s a ninety-pound pixie drowning in his own cargo pants."

Jerry’s pulse spiked again, a mix of panic and a strange, thrilling rush of adrenaline. "I don't know what you're talking about. The guy must have had a medical condition or something."

"Oh, please," she laughed, a sultry, mocking sound. She reached down and tapped the outside of his jacket pocket, right against the hard outline of the device. "Medical conditions don't come with a violet light flash and a handheld reality-warper. I saw you aim it, babe."

Jerry froze. He looked around frantically, but the packed dance floor was entirely self-absorbed, lost in the alcohol and the lasers. No one was paying them any attention.

The woman leaned in even closer, her breath warm against his ear, her tone shifting from playful to intensely curious.

"So, come on," she whispered, her fingers lingering on his jacket. "What's the deal with the toy? Is it temporary? Permanent? And more importantly... what else does it do?"