SHELLEY:
“Glossing the sketch sect in the ass of NOW Magazine, I made a stunning discovery. There is a company that has perfected the landmark technology to swap people’s bodies. Is that not fucking unreal? It’s all there, clear as day, right next to an addy for a quasi-legal shemale escort. I gasped so loudly when I saw it, the old bird next to me thought someone jumped in front of our train. It’s all run like a dating service. First you create a profile. Make a video, do a dot-test, and all that shit. Then you create a second profile, which outlines the body you are looking for. They ask you to write down all the things you would like to change about yourself. They give you loads of paper for that… Don’t fret. They have lined paper, and even offer some paper without lines, if you think your flaws require illustration.
Par exemple. I’ve asked to be set up with someone who is minimum 5’10, and has two dimples, relatively in the same place, one on each cheek. I myself have only one dimple on the right side, with nothing on the left… That is some bullshit, let me tell you. I didn’t put down a specific hair colour, ‘cuz that’s an easy fix-a-roo. However, I did decide to mention that I require my navel to be an innie, which I think is common enough, but better safe than sorry when it comes to funky shit like that.
Honestly, it shouldn’t be hard to find someone for me to swap into, when you think about it, because really I just want to be like most people.
Also, they better find me a bod with the metabolism of a Whippet. I don’t want them sticking me in some lank lassie that just turns out to be anorexic. Like I could keep that shit up.
The tricky part, I suppose, is that they need to find someone for me as well. Perhaps there’s some deranged, but fortunate-looking, dudette out there who’s always wanted a size 6 shoe, and freckles. I hope. Gawd, what if they can’t find anyone for me? That’d be humiliating. I’m red just thinking about it.
When they find two profiles that are compatible, that’s when they set you up for a first “date”.
On this date, I’m presuming that you introduce each other, and then quickly cut the crap, and start inspecting each other like you’re at a cattle auction. Well no, hopefully not like cows, screw that. Like delicate peaches, and you’re looking for bruises. Or, if you’ve got that kind of lotto luck, you’re both diamonds, and you appraise each other.
After the two of you meet, you can decide if you want to “commit”. Then your “decrustification” can commence.
Gawd, I hope my parents at least try to understand. My dad will probably be all worried that I’ll end up in the body of a wanted murdered, or worse: preggers. He’ll say “SHELLey…” in that annoying octave of his, where he emphasizes the “hell”, as if that’s what I’m making life for him. Well, he doesn’t need to worry because the lady I spoke to assured me that they do a full police check, and medical examination on all of their candidates. You must have a clean bill of health, no history of family illness, and no criminal record, in order to be eligible. They are VERY-VERY strict about these policies.
So, it’s a bit kinky, but no kinks.”
******
Hot Bodies (Rant of the Opposing Truth) by Amanda Fahey
