Okay, not sure if anyone's tried something like this before and I'm not even sure if it's very probable, but tons of crazy things happen in these universes, so I'm gonna go with it. Let me know how you like it!

A group of nine, eight, seven and six-year-olds walk down the street to meet up at an enormous clubhouse. The taller nine-year-old is talking to the tallest seven-year-old, while the two boy eight-year-olds are having a race. The latter are obviously twins. One of the six-year-olds - the chubby one who is taller than even the tallest nine-year-old - stops in the middle of walking and looks longingly across the street.

"Hey, Earth to Billy!" The nine-year-old wearing the football jersey calls out. "We don't got no money!"

"We could find it." The much shorter six-year-old grumbles in a guttural voice.

"Where, genius?" The blonde eight-year-old girl questions him, hands on her hips.

The six-year-old sighs and starts again, walking to the clubhouse. The shorter eight-year-old, with frizzy hair and glasses, bends down to find three crumpled dollars in the grass, soaked from last night's rain. She doesn't say a word as she pockets the cash, though the seven-year-old - wearing headgear slightly more offensive than the type the football jersey kid is wearing - sees this right away.

The blonde twin wearing the sunglasses makes it to the tree first. He climbs up a few limbs, then uses a loose branch to unhook the rope ladder. He climbs first, then his brother. The nine-year-old, seven-year-old brothers are next, followed by the blonde eight-year-old, the money-picketer, the braceface duo and the short-but-quick six-year-old. The tall six-year-old watches them and sighs. He is afraid of heights but never speaks up. He climbs.

"A'ight. First order of bidness." The blonde who won the race pulls down a tackle box. "The monies. Len?"

The boy in the jersey takes the box and begins sorting out the money. "Seven dollars, fifteen quarters and twenty dimes. Connie?"

"What!?" She snaps on accident.

"Either you gotta piss or you got monies."

Her face flushes, guaranteeing it. The others frown as she hands over two of the three dollars she picked up on the way. Len nods and adds it in.

"So, how much, Dork?" The blonde without the shades quirks an eyebrow.

"Ten dollars... plus three from the quarters... And two from the dimes..."

"How much!?" The seven-year-old younger brother with the forked tongue grows impatient.

"$15.75."

"We split it." The tallest reminds everyone.

"That's only... $1.57 each, with some one getting an extra penny."

"Gah!" The blonde with shades cries. "This sucks! A'ight, Grub, how's the snacks?"

The boy with the mangled headgear pulls out a small box slightly larger than the tackle box. He pulls out various items: three already-popped bags of popcorn, halfway melted taffy, roughly thirty lollipops, a baggie of jawbreakers and some old beef jerky that no one wants. The tall nine-year-old with bangs in his eyes grabs the jawbreaker bag. He pops one in his mouth.

"Don't hog it, Dave." His brother snags it from him, taking one as well.

"Ingleberry!" Connie takes it, followed by the blonde girl.

"You don't need this crud, Ash!" The blonde without shades takes it from her before she can grabs one.

He tosses it in his mouth, then his brother takes it away. The twin tosses one to Ash, then Billy. The shortest of the group then takes it away after popping one into his own mouth.

"How long you got train tracks, Grub?" He teases. "Len's got 'em on for the rest of time, so you'll prob'ly keep 'em through the afterlife!"

"Shut up, Artie!" Most everyone groans.

A sudden crash outside causes everyone to look around. It jolts the tree house and everyone scrambles to a window or a crack in the wood. Something in a mask and cape is wildly firing a rifle of some sort. Instead of bullets, he is shooting off rays. The kids sneak out and grabs coat hangers... hopefully their trial run of their new zip line will be useful. The twins get through easily. Then Ash, Dave, Len and Artie. Grub notices another man with a same type of ray gun show up before he slides through. Dave's brother also sees them, arguing, before he slides through. Billy steps up and only gets a few inches before he is thrown back.

Billy and Connie fall down, grabbing hold of a random limb. The guns are raised. One hits Billy. He screams as his body lengthens. His belly grows chubbier, his hair covers the rest of his one eye. His skin turns green and his clothes change. He is now taller than a school bus. His hair color doesn't change from its regular reddish-orange. His oversized top now rises over his belly. A pair of jeans fit him as he grows, as well as a pair of untied tennis shoes.

Connie tries to scream but can't because the other ray hits her. She doesn't age but her frizzy hair straightens and is tightly braided into two long pigtails, yanking on the depths of her roots. Her stained, ripped clothing is replaced by a sailor girl's uniform. Her eyes strain the most. Her pupils dilate, taking over her iris. They are an icy, nearly hypnotic blue. Her skin tone lightens and her memory begins to vanish. New memories take over, shoving areas of her brain to the backseat.

"What is your name?" A shadow asks.

The other men with guns have gone. Connie is waking up and notices the large green teenager next to her. He is slowly stirring. She gazes at the shadow but cannot make out any distinctive features. In a polished voice, she replies.

"My name is Connie."

"How childish." The shadow sighs, disapprovingly.

"Why sh- why sh-"

She finds it difficult to talk back. Though she can't see who this is, she has a mind jog, noticeably adult. She tries to think about what just happened, but she doesn't remember anything but a blinding flash... and pain.

"You were in an accident. What is your name?"

She looks up and swallows her rudeness. "My name is Constance."

"Come now," The shadow turns with a hint of a smile in his voice. "Father is waiting."

Reviews would be very helpful!