Scientific adaptations

The world of quantum physics is the kind of place where common sense goes to die. And no one knew that better than Dr. Hanz and Dr. Montes — two brilliantly reckless scientists powered by curiosity, caffeine, and a complete lack of supervision.

After months tinkering with their experimental time-travel capsule, they decided to run a short jump: just a few days into the future, inside the same lab. Nothing too bold. Nothing that could go that wrong.

They pressed the button.

Flash. A vibrating hum. A strange sensation of “something inside me just got rearranged.”

Then… silence.

Montes opened his eyes and immediately noticed three issues:

His vision was perfect — where were his glasses?

Something long and silky was brushing his shoulder.

His waist was being squeezed by something that definitely violated every ergonomic standard known to science.

He pulled a lock of hair forward: blonde, long, flawless. Then he looked down… and saw a vintage-style corset cinching his waist, a set of glamorous lingerie, and curves he could swear did not exist before the experiment.

— Oookay… that wasn’t in the risk report. — he muttered, in a soft, feminine voice that startled even himself.

Across the room, a man — equally confused — stared at his own impractical clothing and at Montes, as if trying to solve a fourteen-dimensional equation.

Montes cleared his throat, trying to maintain professional dignity despite the stockings and satin:

— Hanz? Is… that you?

Hanz nodded, still attempting to keep eye contact — with mixed success.

After a few minutes of scientific panic, the theory formed:

The capsule had worked… but their minds had landed in the bodies of whoever was in the lab at the arrival time. Now they just needed to figure out who those people were.

That’s when Hanz frowned, snapped his fingers, and said:

— Montes… wait. I think I know whose bodies these are.

— You do?!

— Yes. Remember how this lab is built on that property we bought two months ago? The realtor mentioned it used to belong to… um… a couple. A couple who lived here before selling it.

Montes froze.

— So you’re telling me…

— Exactly. — Hanz nodded grimly. — We’re in the bodies of the couple who lived here.

Montes looked at the wedding ring on his finger. Then at Hanz. Then at himself — glamorous, blonde, and tightly corseted.

— So… technically… — Montes inhaled — we’re married?

Hanz went pale. Montes almost fainted — but the corset refused to allow it.

Montes collapsed onto the nearest chair. Hanz ran a hand over his face — which now belonged to someone who clearly invested heavily in skincare.

— Wonderful, — Montes muttered. — Now we have to pretend to be a couple.

He paused, glanced at his own impossibly glamorous reflection, then at Hanz — who was already adapting a little too well to his new role.

And, well… after a few days in that body, surrounded by all that sudden exuberance — and with the way Hanz kept progressing — they weren’t exactly “pretending” anymore.