After the initial shock of finding himself in a version of his body he hadn't seen in about a decade, several thoughts occurred to Noah Puckerman. First, no way was he going to have to take his math mid term tomorrow. Second, he was at an age where he could ask for a hug from a chick, bury his face in her cleavage and not get slapped for it. Third, well, shit, until he got back to normal, there's no way he was getting laid. Even his cougars wouldn't lay a hand on him looking like this.

But from the looks of things at the front of the room, Ms. Pillsbury might be considering giving cougar-hood a try with Mr. Schue, who looked about college age. To each their own, he guessed, but personally, he preferred women who didn't smell like disinfectant.

"This is seriously messed up." He heard Finn mutter that to Artie, who nodded solemnly.

Puck thought it pretty much sucked that Artie was still stuck in the chair. For a Gleek, Artie was a cool guy, could seriously kick ass on bass, which Puck gave him props for. Then again, would it be worse if he could walk, then when whatever this was faded or was fixed, he'd be back in the chair?

He hated when he thought about stuff like that, but since joining Glee club, he found it happening more and more often. It was so much easier when all he had to think about was sex, football and his fight club. He figured Rachel had enough crazy that a little bit had rubbed off on each of them. That had to be it.

"I'm hoping it's a mass hallucination," Artie was telling Finn. "It's not out of the realm of possibility that some laced the Hungarian Goulash Casserole with LSD or something."

Puck was pretty sure Finn wasn't gonna follow all of that, but he could see the wheels turning in the miniaturized quarterback's head. Well, he supposed that was one bonus for being this size. As a 16 year old, Finn wasn't the sharpest crayon in the box, but he was smarter than most 6 year olds. If they had to stay this size for any length of time, that'd be a new feeling for Finn….

With a smirk, Puck wondered if he'd have the opportunity to freak people out. Maybe, if he could slip away, he'd try out some of the more colorful phrases in his vocabulary, just to watch adults freak over that sort of language coming out of a cute little kid.

And he knew he was a cute kid.

"So…You don't think it was a witch?"

"No, Finn," Artie sighed. Puck had to admire the guy's patience.

Glancing around the room, he paused for a moment to watch Brittany standing in front of Rachel's chair, bouncing happily as though this hadn't affected her in the least. Maybe it hadn't, he considered. Like Finn, she seemed to live in a world blissfully free of deep thoughts. Not that Puck was saying he was deep. No, not at all. He was perfectly content to wade in the shallow end with the majority of boys his age.

But he'd never been tested to see if he belonged on the short bus with the window lickers.

Rachel was also peering at the pint sized Cheerio with a sort of fascinated horror. She hadn't spoken since she'd asked a dumbfounded Miss. Pillsbury how this was possible, which was kinda worrying. Rachel was never quite. He was pretty sure the girl would talk even if she fell into a coma.

Quickly, he looked away. He didn't want to be the one who had to deal with Rachel's…whatever.

Matt and Mike were acting pretty much like themselves. Mike seemed to be looking down his pants to check his junk, but that was not an unheard of action. Matt had his phone out and was snapping pictures of all of them. He put it down when he caught Puck's scowling face in his view finder.

"What?" Matt asked with a shrug. "Like anyone's ever gonna believe this! I was just getting photographic evidence."

"Why would you want to tell anyone about this?" Puck asked, waving an arm to encompass the room. "It's…."

"Wrong," Santana interrupted forcefully. "It's wrong and if someone doesn't fix this I'm gonna golpear a alguien abajo!"

Pausing his hushed, frantic conversation, Mr. Schuester looked over at Santana and said, "No kicking anyone's ass, Santana."

Puck raised an eyebrow and looked at the dark haired Cheerio for a moment before nodding. Midget or not, she was still rocking a truly scary bitch face and he didn't doubt that she'd fight dirty. She proved as much by stretching out one thin arm and punching Mike in the ribs as she hissed, "Stop that! It's still there!"

Mike gave her a look and said, "Yeah, but we're kid sized again!"

She paused, expression growing even more thunderous. "Mierda! I am not going through puberty again."

Looking younger than his kid sister wasn't a thought that appealed to Puck and he frowned.

Nearby, Tina had drifted over to join the cabal that was Kurt and Mercedes and seemed to be having her own mini melt down. "What are we going to tell our folks?" she groaned, prompting Mercedes to bury her face in her hands.

"My parent's are never gonna be able to handle this," she muttered and Kurt reached over to pat her back consolingly. Puck had totally forgotten that Kurt had been blonder as a little kid. It was a little creepy how much Hummel looked like one of those Von Trapp kids from the Sound of Music.

What? So he'd seen the Sound of Music. Julie Andrews was hot back in the day.

"You know, I think my dad can handle just about anything," Kurt said when the girls looked at him to see if he shared their fears. At their incredulous stares, he shrugged and asked, "What? He's pretty good at rolling with the punches."

Mercedes and Tina exchanged glances and the former said, "Your dad is seriously cool."

"He'll probably just haul my old cover alls out of storage and tell me not to try to work the hydraulic jack in the garage myself," Kurt said with a shaky laugh, obviously trying to use humor to lighten the situation.

Puck caught part of the sentence and perked up. "Garage? Dude, is your dad Burt Hummel? My truck died over the summer and he got it running great. Nice guy?"

Wrinkling his tiny, turned up nose, Kurt looked at Puck, "You thought what? The last name was a coincidence."

With a shrug, Puck said, "Honestly, I didn't think about it."

"Fair enough," Kurt said, then cocked his head. "But, FYI, I was the one who put in the new bearings. You'd worn the old ones down and the crankshaft couldn't turn. That's why you engine wasn't starting."

Finding out that underneath the manicures and designer clothes, Kurt Hummel was some sort of genius grease monkey was actually weirder than the fact that they had somehow been whammed back to pre-pre-pubescence. At least, that was Puck's opinion.

TBC……………

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