The walls and ceiling of Jenny’s room rushed away from him, stretching out to the size of a football stadium. He knew, of course, that nothing had gotten bigger at all. It was just he—along with Josh and Jenny—who’d gotten suddenly a lot smaller. Danny stood up carefully, trying to sort out his weird eyes. It was that funny multi-lens thing again. A bit like looking through one of those glass things that gave you tons of the same view in many tiny hexagons. After a few seconds, though, he got used to it. His vision seemed quite normal. He tested out his legs. At least this time—for once—he had known what he was going to turn into before he got sprayed. He tried out his wings. He soon found himself rising up beside the vast football field-sized bed, in a rather wobbly way. It was nowhere near as good as being a housefly or a grasshopper. Now, those things knew how to move! Still, it would have to do. There was a sudden breeze. Danny whirled around to see the door opening and the humongous silhouette of what must be his mom.
