Jacob, an army recruiter struggling to meet his quota, met with his commanding officer, Matt, after another unsuccessful day at work. “Hey man, I get it. You’re in a tough area to draw young guys but we do have certain measures that can help you hit your target,” Matt encouraged. “Yeah, I’ve tried all the tricks but these kids just don’t care anymore, I’m telling you, Matt-” “Listen, Listen, Listen,” Matt cut Jacob off as he pulled out a slightly beat-up cardboard box from behind his desk. “You get to keep this until the end of the month, no tears, no rips, no stretches, no punctures…” Matt rambled. Jacob’s attention was fully fixed on the box and how it could help him meet his quota. “…And no personal use outside of transport back to your residence for safe disengagement,” Matt finished. “Disengagement?” Jacob questioned. “Just move, soldier, your day is over. Show up to your usual post with the uniform provided inside first thing tomorrow. Otherwise, carry on as usual.” With that, Jacob waddled home, carrying a box full of what he believed were clothes.
The next day, Jacob was lugging his equipment onto the university field already in his loaned bodysuit. “God, I really should have changed after setting this up,” Jacob huffed to himself in his tired singy-songy new voice as he trudged along, head-down, hair in his face. Suddenly, he felt the bag on his shoulder get lighter as a man in a helmet suddenly appeared next to him. “Let me help you with that, it looks heavy,” before Jacob could react, he was surrounded by what looked like the whole football team running over from their practice to help him carry his bags. At least he thought it had to be the whole team; he couldn’t see over the first row of huge men now surrounding him from his now tiny stature.
The rest of the day went about the same as the new Jacob had no trouble attracting ‘interested’ young students to his booth. Demonstrating all types of equipment to googley-eyed young men that couldn’t seem to take their eyes off Jacob as he showed off whatever gizmo the army provided him. Signatures came aplenty as did the corny lines, “It says I have to give you my number here, do I get yours too?” “What’s the point of camo on THAT body?” “If I sign up, do I get…?” Jacob could only laugh off the uncomfortable proposals as he hit his monthly target before lunch.
