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"Oh, wow! This place is fantastic, guys!" Fred commented as his two best friends and groomsmen ushered him into the main room of the Presidential Suite at the downtown Hilton.

"Only the best for your bachelor party, Dude," Richard said. Fred marveled at the furniture, the bar and the huge wall of windows with a fantastic view of the sunset in the distance.

"This is awesome, guys.  Thanks," he said. Suddenly, the curtains began to close. Fred glanced back at his friends in confusion. "What's going on?"

"Well, we don't want anyone to spy on the party, and the entertainment will be here any minute," Paul said with a grin. Richard stifled a snicker.

"Entertainment? What did you get?" Fred asked, stepping over eagerly.

"You," Richard said, lifting up an aerosol can and spraying it right in Fred's face. Fred sputtered and coughed as Richard continued spraying, covering him head to toe in a strange sticky substance.

"What are you doing?" Fred complained as he pawed at his face to try and remove the stuff, but it was sticky as honey and he only spread it around more. Trying to shake it off his hands, he saw that the stuff covered him completely, and seemed to be crawling across his body.

"What is this stuff?" he yelled as the sticky spray moved to cover his whole body and then started tightening against his skin. He looked at his hands and watched as the translucent goop darkened to a flesh color, but also seemed to be growing long red fingernails. It tightened over his arms, seeming to mash and cover his long sleeve shirt completely and even making his arms seem thinner and more delicate.

"Wow, look at that," Paul said as he and Richard just stood by and watched.

Fred looked down at his chest and saw the goop tightening against his whole body and actually making him look like he was naked. But then a hint of color appeared across his chest and crotch, and he realized it was a teal string bikini. Two mounds of flesh began to push out from his chest, under the bikini, and soon resolved themselves as a pair of melon-sized breasts.

"Holy hell, dudes ... What the hell?" Fred said, coughing at the sound of his voice. It was much higher. He reached up to touch his face and didn't feel his mustache. Startled, he stumbled toward the bathroom. He could feel his hips widening as he moved.

In the bathroom he stared at the mirror in shock. Long locks of blonde hair had started cascading from his head and were now touching his shoulders. His face had full lips, large eyes and a petite nose. Looking down, he took stock of how his body had been seemingly so perfectly transformed into that of a busty young woman.

"What do you think?" Richard said from the doorway.

"What do I think?" Fred said, still not used to the voice. "You turned me into a chick! What am I supposed to think?"

"Oh, grow a sense of humor! Think of it. You get to be the entertainment at your very own bachelor party!" said Paul. Fred looked at himself again, then glared back at the guys.

"I'm a stripper?" he muttered. Both guys smiled.

     "No. Change me back. This is ridiculous," Fred insisted.

Paul and Richard gave each other a knowing glance, then Paul held up another aerosol can and sprayed Fred again. Still surprised and annoyed, he coughed and sputtered once again?

"What the hell! What now?" he said, looking at himself as the goop crawled over his body once more.

"Second coat for enhanced effects," Paul said.

Fred watched the whole process this time as the goop moved and shifted to cover his whole body like a cocoon. Then it slowly began to shrink to match his features and darken to a matching skin tone. Just as he was about to ask what was going to happen, the mounds on his chest began to grow.

His hands flew up to the expanding mammaries, and then he could see that his nails were longer too. A tattoo of a rose appeared on her left upper arm, her waist narrowed and her hips widened further. A pair of high heeled shoes formed under her feet, pushing her up almost on her tip-toes. Her lips plumped further as her hair lengthened and became a cascading mane down her back.

On top of all of that, Francesca was starting to think she looked pretty damn good. Rubbing her hands over her expansive chest and down along her hips, she moaned and wiggled her hips, balancing expertly in the heels. Out the corner of her eye, she noticed the two men and turned to face them.

"Oh, hello.  Um, what am I doing here?" she asked.  Paul glanced at the can in his hand.

     "'Second coat will completely cover the personality, providing a blank slate for you to create the perfect disguise,'" he read, glancing at Richard.

     "Well, your name is Francesca, and this is a bachelor party.  You're the entertainment," Richard said to her.  She glanced down at herself and smiled.

     "I looks like I am," she purred, stepping closer.  "Who wants the first lap dance?"

----------

The next morning after the bachelor party, Richard blinked awake to the sun streaming in through the window. He pinched his eyes together and winced at the hangover he was suffering. Sitting up in the spacious bed, he stretched and sighed before getting up.

Moving barefoot into the living room, he saw Paul passed out on the couch in nothing but a terrycloth robe. Beer bottles, champagne bottles, pizza boxes, balloons and clothing littered the hotel room. Yawning as he made his way to the kitchenette, Richard looked for anything resembling coffee.

Once the water was heated and the instant coffee was poured, Paul began to stir. He sat up on the couch, shielding his eyes from the sun.

"Is is morning already?" he asked.

"Yup. Time to change Fred back to normal. Where is he ... She?" Richard asked with a chuckle.

Paul and Richard had told everyone that Fred had been called off for a wedding-related emergency and that they should enjoy the party without him. But little did anyone else know, the two groomsmen had used a magical costume in a can to turn Fred into an uber-busty stripper named Francesca. She gave expert lap dances to every attendant, stripped to a dozen of their favorite songs, and even whipped their butts at a game of strip poker. She was so perfect as a stripper, no one else at the party even guessed her real identity.

Paul scratched his head and yawned. "I thought she was in the bedroom with you. Did you get lucky?" he said with a nudge.

"Don't be disgusting, of course not. I offered her one bed and I took the other. Maybe she was in the bathroom," he said, heading back toward the bedroom.

A quick check of the beds, bathroom and closets revealed no Francesca.

"Fred's trench coat is gone too," Paul pointed out.

As they continued to search, Richard found a note on the front table.

Hope you enjoyed the show!
     Call me anytime! Sweet dreams!
                                   -Francesca

"Sweet dreams? She left while we were sleeping," Paul realized.

"Left? Where would she go? Francesca isn't a real person!" Richard insisted. "We have to find her. Maria is going to kill us."

After dressing they headed to the front desk and asked if anyone had seen a busty blonde leaving late last night. The night doorman was still on duty, and he told them that he'd put her in a cab around 2 a.m.

"Ladyskins? Why would he ... She ... Go to Ladyskins?" Paul blurted. The doorman shrugged.

"It's Fred's favorite strip club," Richard muttered. "She must think she works there! Let's go!"

After a taxi ride of their own, they pulled up to the pink neon facade of Ladyskins, a high scale downtown gentleman's strip club. A large man smoking a cigar was just locking up as they arrived.

"Francesca?" he replied before his eyes lit up. "Oh, the new girl! Yeah, she came in last night sometime. It was the weirdest thing I ever saw. She strolled in like she lived here, went right into the back and started getting ready for a set. She even knew some of the girl's names, but they'd never seen her before. Hell, if she hadn't been such a knockout, and a natural on stage, I probably would have kicked her out. But that girl had some moves, I tell you."

"Where is she now?" Richard asked. The man gave a suspicious look.

"She's ... Not well. She's our friend. Bumped her head and thinks she's a stripper," Paul said. The man still looked uncertain, but shrugged his large shoulders.

"She seemed a bit confused at closing time, like she didn't know where to go. I saw her walk out with some of the girls, but didn't see her leave with any of them," he said.

"Which girls? Can you give us their numbers?" Richard insisted. The guy got a bit defensive.

"Hey, now. I hope you find your friend, but I can't just go giving out the strippers numbers. You come back tonight and you can ask them yourself. I'll let you in free of charge."

Reluctantly, Richard and Paul retreated from the strip club and considered their next move. The wedding practice was this afternoon and they had inadvertently lost the groom. Not only lost him, but turned him into a busty stripper with no memory of her former life.

They walked the streets near the club, asking if anyone had seen the blonde stripper. Without a picture, it was hard to differentiate their friend from the other strippers who worked at the club, so they got lots of false confirmations. After several hours, they gave up and headed to the church.

"What are we going to tell Maria?" Paul moaned as they sat in the church parking lot, staring up at the bell tower.

"I don't know, but I'm sure you'll think of something," Richard said.

"Me? This was your idea!" Paul shouted.

"No, it was our idea. You found those damned costume cans in the first place, so you're most responsible," Richard explained.

"YOU sprayed him ... AND slept with ... Near him!" Paul retorted. Richard sighed and shook his head.

"Well we need to tell her something," he said, climbing from the car.

They stepped into the church together, their arrival immediately drawing the attention of the assembled group. Maria, the bride, was there with her bridesmaids, her mother, and her little sister. Fred's parents were there too, along with his brother who was standing in as the third groomsman, but was too young to have attended the party. Maria immediately approached them as they walked up.

"Where have you two been? I've been trying to call Fred all morning. What the heck did you guys do last night?" she asked.

Richard opened his mouth to speak, but the doors opening behind him cut him off.

"Hey, sorry I'm late. Did I miss anything?" said Maria's father as he breezed into the chapel. A look of shock and disgust crossed Maria's face.

"No, Daddy. We haven't started yet. Who is ... This?" she asked. Richard and Paul turned and saw a busty blonde on the white-haired man's arm.

"Francesca?!" they both said in unison. The girl looked at them with surprise but smiled.

"Oh, hi boys. Long time no see!" she chirped.

"Wait, you two know this woman?" Maria asked. Richard and Paul glanced at each other.

"Um ... Yeah. She was ... That is ..." they stammered. The busty blonde chuckled and approached Maria with her hand extended.

"Hi, I'm Francesca. I was at their bachelor party. I'm so happy to meet you. Your Dad has told me so much about you, I feel like we've already met!" she said to the bride. Richard coughed and Paul just stared. Maria shook Francesca's hand, but eyed the woman coldly.

"Uh, huh. Daddy, what are you doing?" Maria said to her father. The older man shrugged.

"What? I was out for a walk last night and I encountered this lovely young woman. She had just gotten off work and didn't have a place to stay, so I invited her back to my place. I was the perfect gentleman. I couldn't just leave her there, so I brought her along. Even got her this nice new dress for your wedding," he explained as he pulled the voluptuous blonde back to his side.

"For my ... You're bringing a stripper to my wedding!?" Maria shouted. Francesca just rolled her eyes playfully, as if she'd heard this argument before.

"Maria! That is no way to talk to your future mother-in-law," Mr. Reynolds said, hooking an arm around Francesca's waist. She blushed at the comment and giggled.

"What?!" Maria, Paul and Richard all said together.

"I don't see why not. In the short time we've been together, Francesca has proven to be intelligent, funny, attentive ... and a wildcat in the sack," he continued. Francesca playfully smacked his arm.

"Oh, Billy. Stop teasing them. He let me use his bed and he slept on the couch. He was a perfect gentleman," Francesca said, dissuading growing concerns.  Richard and Paul sighed gratefully, but Maria was still blistering.

"How could you, Daddy," she hissed, glancing back at her mother, who was silently trying to ignore the situation.

Maria's father seemed to be loving the tension. Paul and Richard exchanged a quick glance, then moved over to Francesca.

"Excuse us, Mr. Reynolds, but we just need to ... Borrow Francesca for a moment," Paul said. The bride's father smiled and nodded as he unhooked from the blonde bombshell's grasp.

"Oh, haven't you boys had enough of me already?" Francesca asked as they escorted her away. They weren't even a few yards away before Maria erupted into a tirade on her father who threw his arms up defensively.

Pulling Francesca into the coat room and shut the door.

"Fred. It's us. You gotta snap out of this!" Paul said, holding Francesca by the shoulders. She was smiling at first, but then started to look a little scared as he shook her.

"What are you ... Let me go!" she insisted. She stepped back and fixed the strap of her dress.

"Look, I don't know what kind of game you two are into, but it isn't funny. I don't go for this kind of kinky stuff, you hear?" she said, waggling a long-nailed finger at both of them.

"Get the Turpentine©," Paul said. Richard slipped out of the room.

"Francesca ... Fred. You're not a stripper, all right? You're our friend Fred and you're getting married to Maria tomorrow. We sprayed you with some stuff that made you like this, but it was just a joke, okay?" Paul explained. Francesca just rolled her eyes and chuckled.

"The only thing about me that's fake are these puppies," she said, hefting her substantial bosom with both hands. Paul couldn't help but take a glance, but then he shook his head and pinched his eyes. Richard slipped back in with a green canvas bag that clanked when he dropped it.

"What did you bring all the cans in for?" Paul asked.

"I don't know which is which. Shut up," Richard said as he started pulling out cans. Eventually he held out a purple can with white lettering that said 'Turpentine - Costume in a Can Remover.' Paul took it and started shaking it up.

"What are you doing?" Francesca asked, backing into an empty coat rack.

"Just hold still, okay. This will only take a ..." Paul started, suddenly spraying Francesca in the face. She threw her hands up and sputtered, but he continued spraying down her body, soaking her dress and legs. The blonde coughed and tried to wipe the stuff off her arms.

"What the hell?!" she exclaimed, but the wiping motion pulled off more than she'd expected. It was as if her skin was liquefying and dripping from her body. Her forearm was now looking thicker and covered with hair. "What ... Is happening?"

The dripping continued as Francesca's hair melted as well and a puddle of flesh-colored paint pooled at her feet. Her breasts shrank away but her shoulders expanded slightly, causing a slight tearing sound from the dress. Hips dwindled away and she quickly kicked off her shoes as her feet grew. Shaking the muck from her hands, she was starting to look like Fred again, only wearing a blue sequin dress.

As the last few pieces of Francesca dripped away, Fred coughed and looked up at Paul and Richard.

"You ... Assholes ..." he breathed.

"Oh, my God," they all heard. Turning, they saw Maria standing in the doorway.

"Maria! We can explain," said Richard as he moved over to close the door so no one else would see. Maria moved closer, looking Fred up and down.

"Maria. I'm sorry," Fred breathed, looking somewhat ridiculous in the dress. The bride-to-be clenched her fists and looked like she was about to cry.

"Honey, I'm sorry!" Fred insisted.

"Yeah, Maria. Don't blame him. This was all our fault," Paul said.  Maria clenched her eyes closed and turned away for a moment, then glanced back at the men.

"You're damn right it's all your fault," she said. All three men blinked in surprise. Maria suddenly stalked over to the canvas bag and started looking at cans.

"Maria ... We ..." Richard started to say. Maria stood with two cans and pointed them at Paul and Richard.

"Just hold still," she said, depressing the nozzles.

---------

At the reception after the wedding, Fred and Maria sat down after a long series of dancing. Fred kissed his new bride deeply.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too," she replied.

Looking across the dance floor, they caught sight of Maria's father dancing with 'Francesca.' The older man hadn't noticed any changes to the dim-witted stripper that had once been Fred. The 'new' Francesca was Paul, transformed by the magical spray paint costume. The confusion left by the second coat was quickly filled in by Maria, explaining that she was a struggling college student who danced topless to pay off student loans. She had met Mr. Reynolds the night before and taken a shine to him, accepting his invite to the wedding. Maria also made sure that Francesca would be kind and friendly to her mother, easing the potential embarrassment that could have surfaced.

"How long are we going to keep him like that?" Fred asked, taking a sip of wine as Francesca performed the Chicken Dance.

"Oh, I don't know. Daddy's happy. Mom likes her. She makes good money. And say ... Wasn't Paul recently laid off?" she commented. Fred's eyes brightened and he nodded.

"What about ... Rochelle?" he said, glancing to the French Maid near the punch bowl. The leggy blonde had been Richard, Fred's other friend and former groomsman, also responsible for the Francesca debacle. Maria had only given the disguised man one coat of the costume paint, leaving him with most of his mind intact, save for a talent for carrying a tray in high heels and a cute French accent. Maria had insisted that she 'mingle with the catering staff,' and she had blended in very well. The head caterer had even asked Fred about the 'extra maid' and he'd explained that she was a friend who needed the work.

"Well, I only meant to leave him like that for the day, but he vanished after the rehearsal yesterday. Then she showed up here and I was kind of surprised. She hasn't asked to change back yet, so I was just going to let her suffer," Maria said.

Fred grinned as Rochelle offered finger foods to a handsome young man. He seemed to compliment her and she blushed, smiling back at him coquettishly.

"Something tells me he doesn't WANT to change back. I think he's flirting with Daniel Webber," Fred said. Maria looked again and laughed.

"Looks like I may have a couple chances to be a bridesmaid sooner than I thought," she said, pulling Fred in for another kiss.

- THE END -

Description
"Oh, wow! This place is fantastic, guys!" Fred commented as his two best friends and groomsmen ushered him into the main room of the Presidential Suite at the downtown Hilton.

"Only the best for your bachelor party, Dude," Richard said. Fred marveled at the furniture, the bar and the huge wall of windows with a fantastic view of the sunset in the distance.

"This is awesome, guys.  Thanks," he said. Suddenly, the curtains began to close. Fred glanced back at his friends in confusion. "What's going on?"

"Well, we don't want anyone to spy on the party, and the entertainment will be here any minute," Paul said with a grin. Richard stifled a snicker.

"Entertainment? What did you get?" Fred asked, stepping over eagerly.

"You," Richard said, lifting up an aerosol can and spraying it right in Fred's face. Fred sputtered and coughed as Richard continued spraying, covering him head to toe in a strange sticky substance.

"What are you doing?" Fred complained as he pawed at his face to try and remove the stuff, but it was sticky as honey and he only spread it around more. Trying to shake it off his hands, he saw that the stuff covered him completely, and seemed to be crawling across his body.

"What is this stuff?" he yelled as the sticky spray moved to cover his whole body and then started tightening against his skin. He looked at his hands and watched as the translucent goop darkened to a flesh color, but also seemed to be growing long red fingernails. It tightened over his arms, seeming to mash and cover his long sleeve shirt completely and even making his arms seem thinner and more delicate.

"Wow, look at that," Paul said as he and Richard just stood by and watched.

Fred looked down at his chest and saw the goop tightening against his whole body and actually making him look like he was naked. But then a hint of color appeared across his chest and crotch, and he realized it was a teal string bikini. Two mounds of flesh began to push out from his chest, under the bikini, and soon resolved themselves as a pair of melon-sized breasts.

"Holy hell, dudes ... What the hell?" Fred said, coughing at the sound of his voice. It was much higher. He reached up to touch his face and didn't feel his mustache. Startled, he stumbled toward the bathroom. He could feel his hips widening as he moved.

In the bathroom he stared at the mirror in shock. Long locks of blonde hair had started cascading from his head and were now touching his shoulders. His face had full lips, large eyes and a petite nose. Looking down, he took stock of how his body had been seemingly so perfectly transformed into that of a busty young woman.

"What do you think?" Richard said from the doorway.

"What do I think?" Fred said, still not used to the voice. "You turned me into a chick! What am I supposed to think?"

"Oh, grow a sense of humor! Think of it. You get to be the entertainment at your very own bachelor party!" said Paul. Fred looked at himself again, then glared back at the guys.

"I'm a stripper?" he muttered. Both guys smiled.

     "No. Change me back. This is ridiculous," Fred insisted.

Paul and Richard gave each other a knowing glance, then Paul held up another aerosol can and sprayed Fred again. Still surprised and annoyed, he coughed and sputtered once again?

"What the hell! What now?" he said, looking at himself as the goop crawled over his body once more.

"Second coat for enhanced effects," Paul said.

Fred watched the whole process this time as the goop moved and shifted to cover his whole body like a cocoon. Then it slowly began to shrink to match his features and darken to a matching skin tone. Just as he was about to ask what was going to happen, the mounds on his chest began to grow.

His hands flew up to the expanding mammaries, and then he could see that his nails were longer too. A tattoo of a rose appeared on her left upper arm, her waist narrowed and her hips widened further. A pair of high heeled shoes formed under her feet, pushing her up almost on her tip-toes. Her lips plumped further as her hair lengthened and became a cascading mane down her back.

On top of all of that, Francesca was starting to think she looked pretty damn good. Rubbing her hands over her expansive chest and down along her hips, she moaned and wiggled her hips, balancing expertly in the heels. Out the corner of her eye, she noticed the two men and turned to face them.

"Oh, hello.  Um, what am I doing here?" she asked.  Paul glanced at the can in his hand.

     "'Second coat will completely cover the personality, providing a blank slate for you to create the perfect disguise,'" he read, glancing at Richard.

     "Well, your name is Francesca, and this is a bachelor party.  You're the entertainment," Richard said to her.  She glanced down at herself and smiled.

     "I looks like I am," she purred, stepping closer.  "Who wants the first lap dance?"

----------

The next morning after the bachelor party, Richard blinked awake to the sun streaming in through the window. He pinched his eyes together and winced at the hangover he was suffering. Sitting up in the spacious bed, he stretched and sighed before getting up.

Moving barefoot into the living room, he saw Paul passed out on the couch in nothing but a terrycloth robe. Beer bottles, champagne bottles, pizza boxes, balloons and clothing littered the hotel room. Yawning as he made his way to the kitchenette, Richard looked for anything resembling coffee.

Once the water was heated and the instant coffee was poured, Paul began to stir. He sat up on the couch, shielding his eyes from the sun.

"Is is morning already?" he asked.

"Yup. Time to change Fred back to normal. Where is he ... She?" Richard asked with a chuckle.

Paul and Richard had told everyone that Fred had been called off for a wedding-related emergency and that they should enjoy the party without him. But little did anyone else know, the two groomsmen had used a magical costume in a can to turn Fred into an uber-busty stripper named Francesca. She gave expert lap dances to every attendant, stripped to a dozen of their favorite songs, and even whipped their butts at a game of strip poker. She was so perfect as a stripper, no one else at the party even guessed her real identity.

Paul scratched his head and yawned. "I thought she was in the bedroom with you. Did you get lucky?" he said with a nudge.

"Don't be disgusting, of course not. I offered her one bed and I took the other. Maybe she was in the bathroom," he said, heading back toward the bedroom.

A quick check of the beds, bathroom and closets revealed no Francesca.

"Fred's trench coat is gone too," Paul pointed out.

As they continued to search, Richard found a note on the front table.

Hope you enjoyed the show!
     Call me anytime! Sweet dreams!
                                   -Francesca

"Sweet dreams? She left while we were sleeping," Paul realized.

"Left? Where would she go? Francesca isn't a real person!" Richard insisted. "We have to find her. Maria is going to kill us."

After dressing they headed to the front desk and asked if anyone had seen a busty blonde leaving late last night. The night doorman was still on duty, and he told them that he'd put her in a cab around 2 a.m.

"Ladyskins? Why would he ... She ... Go to Ladyskins?" Paul blurted. The doorman shrugged.

"It's Fred's favorite strip club," Richard muttered. "She must think she works there! Let's go!"

After a taxi ride of their own, they pulled up to the pink neon facade of Ladyskins, a high scale downtown gentleman's strip club. A large man smoking a cigar was just locking up as they arrived.

"Francesca?" he replied before his eyes lit up. "Oh, the new girl! Yeah, she came in last night sometime. It was the weirdest thing I ever saw. She strolled in like she lived here, went right into the back and started getting ready for a set. She even knew some of the girl's names, but they'd never seen her before. Hell, if she hadn't been such a knockout, and a natural on stage, I probably would have kicked her out. But that girl had some moves, I tell you."

"Where is she now?" Richard asked. The man gave a suspicious look.

"She's ... Not well. She's our friend. Bumped her head and thinks she's a stripper," Paul said. The man still looked uncertain, but shrugged his large shoulders.

"She seemed a bit confused at closing time, like she didn't know where to go. I saw her walk out with some of the girls, but didn't see her leave with any of them," he said.

"Which girls? Can you give us their numbers?" Richard insisted. The guy got a bit defensive.

"Hey, now. I hope you find your friend, but I can't just go giving out the strippers numbers. You come back tonight and you can ask them yourself. I'll let you in free of charge."

Reluctantly, Richard and Paul retreated from the strip club and considered their next move. The wedding practice was this afternoon and they had inadvertently lost the groom. Not only lost him, but turned him into a busty stripper with no memory of her former life.

They walked the streets near the club, asking if anyone had seen the blonde stripper. Without a picture, it was hard to differentiate their friend from the other strippers who worked at the club, so they got lots of false confirmations. After several hours, they gave up and headed to the church.

"What are we going to tell Maria?" Paul moaned as they sat in the church parking lot, staring up at the bell tower.

"I don't know, but I'm sure you'll think of something," Richard said.

"Me? This was your idea!" Paul shouted.

"No, it was our idea. You found those damned costume cans in the first place, so you're most responsible," Richard explained.

"YOU sprayed him ... AND slept with ... Near him!" Paul retorted. Richard sighed and shook his head.

"Well we need to tell her something," he said, climbing from the car.

They stepped into the church together, their arrival immediately drawing the attention of the assembled group. Maria, the bride, was there with her bridesmaids, her mother, and her little sister. Fred's parents were there too, along with his brother who was standing in as the third groomsman, but was too young to have attended the party. Maria immediately approached them as they walked up.

"Where have you two been? I've been trying to call Fred all morning. What the heck did you guys do last night?" she asked.

Richard opened his mouth to speak, but the doors opening behind him cut him off.

"Hey, sorry I'm late. Did I miss anything?" said Maria's father as he breezed into the chapel. A look of shock and disgust crossed Maria's face.

"No, Daddy. We haven't started yet. Who is ... This?" she asked. Richard and Paul turned and saw a busty blonde on the white-haired man's arm.

"Francesca?!" they both said in unison. The girl looked at them with surprise but smiled.

"Oh, hi boys. Long time no see!" she chirped.

"Wait, you two know this woman?" Maria asked. Richard and Paul glanced at each other.

"Um ... Yeah. She was ... That is ..." they stammered. The busty blonde chuckled and approached Maria with her hand extended.

"Hi, I'm Francesca. I was at their bachelor party. I'm so happy to meet you. Your Dad has told me so much about you, I feel like we've already met!" she said to the bride. Richard coughed and Paul just stared. Maria shook Francesca's hand, but eyed the woman coldly.

"Uh, huh. Daddy, what are you doing?" Maria said to her father. The older man shrugged.

"What? I was out for a walk last night and I encountered this lovely young woman. She had just gotten off work and didn't have a place to stay, so I invited her back to my place. I was the perfect gentleman. I couldn't just leave her there, so I brought her along. Even got her this nice new dress for your wedding," he explained as he pulled the voluptuous blonde back to his side.

"For my ... You're bringing a stripper to my wedding!?" Maria shouted. Francesca just rolled her eyes playfully, as if she'd heard this argument before.

"Maria! That is no way to talk to your future mother-in-law," Mr. Reynolds said, hooking an arm around Francesca's waist. She blushed at the comment and giggled.

"What?!" Maria, Paul and Richard all said together.

"I don't see why not. In the short time we've been together, Francesca has proven to be intelligent, funny, attentive ... and a wildcat in the sack," he continued. Francesca playfully smacked his arm.

"Oh, Billy. Stop teasing them. He let me use his bed and he slept on the couch. He was a perfect gentleman," Francesca said, dissuading growing concerns.  Richard and Paul sighed gratefully, but Maria was still blistering.

"How could you, Daddy," she hissed, glancing back at her mother, who was silently trying to ignore the situation.

Maria's father seemed to be loving the tension. Paul and Richard exchanged a quick glance, then moved over to Francesca.

"Excuse us, Mr. Reynolds, but we just need to ... Borrow Francesca for a moment," Paul said. The bride's father smiled and nodded as he unhooked from the blonde bombshell's grasp.

"Oh, haven't you boys had enough of me already?" Francesca asked as they escorted her away. They weren't even a few yards away before Maria erupted into a tirade on her father who threw his arms up defensively.

Pulling Francesca into the coat room and shut the door.

"Fred. It's us. You gotta snap out of this!" Paul said, holding Francesca by the shoulders. She was smiling at first, but then started to look a little scared as he shook her.

"What are you ... Let me go!" she insisted. She stepped back and fixed the strap of her dress.

"Look, I don't know what kind of game you two are into, but it isn't funny. I don't go for this kind of kinky stuff, you hear?" she said, waggling a long-nailed finger at both of them.

"Get the Turpentine©," Paul said. Richard slipped out of the room.

"Francesca ... Fred. You're not a stripper, all right? You're our friend Fred and you're getting married to Maria tomorrow. We sprayed you with some stuff that made you like this, but it was just a joke, okay?" Paul explained. Francesca just rolled her eyes and chuckled.

"The only thing about me that's fake are these puppies," she said, hefting her substantial bosom with both hands. Paul couldn't help but take a glance, but then he shook his head and pinched his eyes. Richard slipped back in with a green canvas bag that clanked when he dropped it.

"What did you bring all the cans in for?" Paul asked.

"I don't know which is which. Shut up," Richard said as he started pulling out cans. Eventually he held out a purple can with white lettering that said 'Turpentine - Costume in a Can Remover.' Paul took it and started shaking it up.

"What are you doing?" Francesca asked, backing into an empty coat rack.

"Just hold still, okay. This will only take a ..." Paul started, suddenly spraying Francesca in the face. She threw her hands up and sputtered, but he continued spraying down her body, soaking her dress and legs. The blonde coughed and tried to wipe the stuff off her arms.

"What the hell?!" she exclaimed, but the wiping motion pulled off more than she'd expected. It was as if her skin was liquefying and dripping from her body. Her forearm was now looking thicker and covered with hair. "What ... Is happening?"

The dripping continued as Francesca's hair melted as well and a puddle of flesh-colored paint pooled at her feet. Her breasts shrank away but her shoulders expanded slightly, causing a slight tearing sound from the dress. Hips dwindled away and she quickly kicked off her shoes as her feet grew. Shaking the muck from her hands, she was starting to look like Fred again, only wearing a blue sequin dress.

As the last few pieces of Francesca dripped away, Fred coughed and looked up at Paul and Richard.

"You ... Assholes ..." he breathed.

"Oh, my God," they all heard. Turning, they saw Maria standing in the doorway.

"Maria! We can explain," said Richard as he moved over to close the door so no one else would see. Maria moved closer, looking Fred up and down.

"Maria. I'm sorry," Fred breathed, looking somewhat ridiculous in the dress. The bride-to-be clenched her fists and looked like she was about to cry.

"Honey, I'm sorry!" Fred insisted.

"Yeah, Maria. Don't blame him. This was all our fault," Paul said.  Maria clenched her eyes closed and turned away for a moment, then glanced back at the men.

"You're damn right it's all your fault," she said. All three men blinked in surprise. Maria suddenly stalked over to the canvas bag and started looking at cans.

"Maria ... We ..." Richard started to say. Maria stood with two cans and pointed them at Paul and Richard.

"Just hold still," she said, depressing the nozzles.

---------

At the reception after the wedding, Fred and Maria sat down after a long series of dancing. Fred kissed his new bride deeply.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too," she replied.

Looking across the dance floor, they caught sight of Maria's father dancing with 'Francesca.' The older man hadn't noticed any changes to the dim-witted stripper that had once been Fred. The 'new' Francesca was Paul, transformed by the magical spray paint costume. The confusion left by the second coat was quickly filled in by Maria, explaining that she was a struggling college student who danced topless to pay off student loans. She had met Mr. Reynolds the night before and taken a shine to him, accepting his invite to the wedding. Maria also made sure that Francesca would be kind and friendly to her mother, easing the potential embarrassment that could have surfaced.

"How long are we going to keep him like that?" Fred asked, taking a sip of wine as Francesca performed the Chicken Dance.

"Oh, I don't know. Daddy's happy. Mom likes her. She makes good money. And say ... Wasn't Paul recently laid off?" she commented. Fred's eyes brightened and he nodded.

"What about ... Rochelle?" he said, glancing to the French Maid near the punch bowl. The leggy blonde had been Richard, Fred's other friend and former groomsman, also responsible for the Francesca debacle. Maria had only given the disguised man one coat of the costume paint, leaving him with most of his mind intact, save for a talent for carrying a tray in high heels and a cute French accent. Maria had insisted that she 'mingle with the catering staff,' and she had blended in very well. The head caterer had even asked Fred about the 'extra maid' and he'd explained that she was a friend who needed the work.

"Well, I only meant to leave him like that for the day, but he vanished after the rehearsal yesterday. Then she showed up here and I was kind of surprised. She hasn't asked to change back yet, so I was just going to let her suffer," Maria said.

Fred grinned as Rochelle offered finger foods to a handsome young man. He seemed to compliment her and she blushed, smiling back at him coquettishly.

"Something tells me he doesn't WANT to change back. I think he's flirting with Daniel Webber," Fred said. Maria looked again and laughed.

"Looks like I may have a couple chances to be a bridesmaid sooner than I thought," she said, pulling Fred in for another kiss.

- THE END -