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It was only a couple hundred dollars. Martha kept telling herself that, anyway. It was vintage, it was rare, it was everything she could waste- er- invest her money in.


   Martha loved what she believed to be vintage and old technology. Snagging a walkman off eBay for a couple hundred bucks was basically a dream come true for her. Her friends would frequently tell her that she’d been wasting her money on random expenditures, but it felt nostalgic to hold a piece of old or defunct technology in your very hands and reminisce.


   What she didn’t anticipate was this walkman to have arrived used.


   Popping open the cassette deck, it still possessed a single cassette marked Awesome Mix Vol. 1. Perhaps this was to be anticipated, she did buy it off eBay after all. She closed the cassette deck and pressed play, being greeted by the opening guitar riff of Come and Get Your Love by Redbone.


   Martha was compelled to shut off the walkman. Personally, even if she was into vintage technology, music from that era wasn’t really the best for her. But even with that personal dislike… she kind of wanted to dance to it.


   Her hair swayed back and forth as she moved her hips side to side, mouthing along to the lyrics of the song. It was hypnotic, mesmerizing, she didn’t even notice the changes going on in the hand holding the walkman.


   Her dainty fingers increased in size, becoming longer, hairier, and rougher. Her palms became grimier and tougher, swelling into larger, more masculine hands. Her arm followed, bulging into strong, hairy, and muscular appendages. Sweat began to bead on her arms, but she was too focused dancing to care.


   Belting off the many come and get your loves that encompass the song, she also didn’t notice the floor of her room filling with dust. Much of the furniture was spiking and hardening into stone, like her room had begun changing into a distant planet.


   The changes moved from her arm to her chest. She felt her chest itch, coupled by the sweat that was beginning to stain the pits of her yellow tank top. But she didn’t care. Her breasts flattened, then swelled with powerful muscles as a dusting of chest hair overtook her changing body. She grew taller, stronger, more masculine, with her muscles beginning to show through her unchanged tank top.


   Her other arm swelled and enlarged to match the changes of her already morphed hand. She was already halfway through the song when the changes reached her neck, changing her vocal cords and deepening her voice into a manly vocalization.


   The changes of her room continued, with the furniture changing into rock pillars, and a stream of water appearing from out of nowhere. The ceiling dissipated to show the cloudy, dark sky as her location changed into something otherworldly.


   Coming with the changes of reality were weird, fleshy, rat-like creatures that attempted to assault the woman, but almost reflexively catching the rodent-creature, she began to sing into it like a microphone. Some other creatures tried to attack her legs. In an almost instantaneous change, her legs bulked and strengthened, growing longer and hairier, bulging out of her jeans. Her socks tore under her shoes as her feet expanded and calloused. Kicking a few of the strange alien creatures, their onslaught had ended.


   Martha stopped dancing when she felt a cramp in her crotch. Something was bulging out of her waist and it was solidifying her status as a him. He took a look around the changed area, feeling like he should probably be worried about something. But no, this seemed normal. He had a job to complete.


   Using the rodent-creature he still had in hand as a microphone, he sang the last few verses with ease. His chin snapped and hardened into a manly jawline, a cropping of a five o’clock shadow taking his lower face. His once feminine face grew out into that of a man with boyish charm, his nose ever so slightly increasing in size while a wave of blue overtook his irises. His long, blonde hair shortened and combed itself, darkening from blonde to brown. His skin had also slightly darkened with dust and grime.


   Throwing out the fleshy rat and dancing her way to a doorway, the last changes had overtaken his clothing. His clothes increased in size to better fit his body as the fabric of much of them began to change. His tank top drenched in red as it bulked into a leather jacket, while he felt a black undershirt manifest under the jacket. His jeans transformed into brown pants, and his shoes bulked and lengthened into brown leather boots with black straps.


   Martha felt a wave of compliance wash over him as he walked into the doorway. New memories of being a space pirate, a former Ravager, filled his head as the name Peter Quill implanted itself into the former-woman’s head. A new appreciation for 70s and 80s music filled his head as the lyrics of Come and Get Your Love still flowed through his skull. A vault with an orb stood in front of him as the knowledge of how to break into it clicked into Quill’s mind.


   He had a job to do.