Twin Brother Becomes Fizzarolli's Clown Imp

You sit comfortably on your couch, half-dozing as your favorite show, Helluva Boss, flickers on the screen in front of you. Fizzarolli’s mirthful face stretches wide across the flat screen, his antics making you chuckle. You always liked Fizzarolli, that cheeky clown imp with his ludicrous schemes and twisted humor. As you ruminate on this, a sudden chill runs down your spine. Inside the room, a cosmic door appears from nowhere, rippling with otherworldly energy. Out of it steps none other than Fizzarolli himself, looking almost cartoony in this dreary mortal plane. You blink a couple of times, realizing that you’re not quite dreaming. "Oh, dear *I* made a sudden visit, didn't I?" Fizzarolli chuckles, amused by your jaw-dropped expression. "Well, I need something from ya.” His bulbous red nose bounces as he struts over to you, and under his breath he starts a chant. Before your mind can react, a wave of dizziness sweeps over you. Your body feels simultaneously heavy and light, as if going through an intense transformative process. Looking down, you see your hands becoming smaller, softer, and more imp-like. Your gender snapping and shifting to match Fizzarolli’s. Your stature reduces, now perfectly matching the height of the familiar imp before you. Your clothes, too, alter around your changing figure. Your once comfortable sweats transform into the snappily dressed ensemble that Fizzarolli always wears; a hodgepodge of colors so vibrant they're overwhelming. As your bodily transformation completes, you feel your age start to regress - your life, your experience, all of it compressing into a new youthful frame. There is a strange comfort in this transition, a sense of familiarity as if this has somehow always been your true age. However, the most alarming change comes as the last part of the transformation - the mental change. Memories you once firmly held begin to dissolve, replaced by vivid experiences involving Fizzarolli. Each memory is as colourful and loud as the imp himself. Moments previously terrifying are now somehow humorous, mundane circumstances forcing you to crack a toothy grin. The flood of Fizzarolli's memories merges with your own, till you can't remember which ones were yours. The transformation ends, leaving you slightly breathless, but with an all too familiar grin plastered on your now impish face – the same deranged smile Fizzarolli always wore. Fizzarolli claps, chuckling openly at your perplexed expression. You return the chuckle, the new laugh blooming naturally as if you’ve always owned it. "Glad to see ya, brother!" He bellows, pulling you into a rough hug. Despite the suddenness of it all, you find yourself echoing the sentiment, returning the hug with as much enthusiasm. "I always wanted a brother," Fizzarolli murmurs. Then he pushes you to arm's length, looking you up and down, clapping his hands in satisfaction. "I reckon you'll do nicely." As you both break away, you realize that you believe what he said. You have always been his brother, it seems right, it seems… Complete. As the hum of your old life fades away, replaced by the delightful chaos of your new one, you can’t help but echo, "Of course, brother, we’re two peas in a pod." The sentiment is true, it is accurate. You don't remember anything else, and you don’t want to. Things are just as they should have always been.