Brian

Let me start off by saying, this all happened because she cut me off. I was just trying to make a right into the gas station when she flew around the right side of my car (yes, she was trying to pass me on the right, which I’m pretty sure is illegal). So she almost broadsided me because she just HAD to get to wherever she was going ten seconds sooner.
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I was already in a bad mood that day, so I flipped her off. She saw me do it in her rearview, and as I pulled into the station, I saw her change course and peel out around the block so she could circle back to the station. Apparently, she wanted to have some words with me.
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So I’m there filling up and she comes flying into the station, screeches to a stop diagonally across, like, three parking spaces, jumps out of the car, and starts marching towards me, scowling and pointing her finger.
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“Look—”, I said, putting up both hands in surrender. I was going to apologize. Honestly. She was clearly wrong, but I wasn’t interested in fighting.
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But “look” was all I got out. She went OFF. It sounded like she was ripping me a new one in Italian or something.
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And then she abruptly stopped, turned away, and got in her car and left.
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And that’s when things got weird.
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I watched her pull out of the station, and then…I shrunk.
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I seemed to be no more than a few inches tall. I could still see and hear, but I couldn’t speak. And I was completely immobile.
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After about two days of being stuck at the gas station, frozen next to my now giant car, they came and towed the car away. I heard someone say something about it being “abandoned”, and then it was gone.
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I stayed for another day or two, almost getting run over by cars more times than I could count, until some guy picked me up, stared at me for a few seconds, then threw me in his back seat.
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Long story short, I ended up here—it appears to be some kind of thrift shop. I got a glance at myself in a mirror one day; it looks like I’ve been turned into a doll—a pretty ragged one.
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So the moral of the story is…man, I don’t know. Don’t give the finger to someone because they might be a witch who’ll turn you into an ugly doll?
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Eh, I guess there’s no moral. But I’d really like to not be a doll anymore, so if you know someone who can cast a reverse spell to undo this, that would be fantastic. Tell them to come see me—I’m on the display all the way in the back of the store, third shelf from the bottom. It’s the thrift shop that’s on the corner of…um…
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DAMMIT.