"The Gender-Swapped Salesperson: A Heel of a Presentation"

The early morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow on the kitchen table, where my dad—well, technically my mom's body inhabited by my dad—was frantically working on his laptop. I sat opposite him, sipping my coffee and trying not to laugh out loud.

"Dad, this is getting ridiculous," I said, shaking my head. "You’ve been staring at that screen for hours. You need to take a break."

He looked up from the glowing screen, eyes filled with determination, and ... mascara? "I can’t, Annie," he said, his voice oddly high-pitched. "I need to finish this sales presentation before the big meeting."

I sighed dramatically. "But you haven't even figured out how to get dressed yet!"

Dad's new body flushed a bit. "Your mom’s wardrobe is an enigma. Who knew that zipping up a dress could be this complicated?" He glanced guiltily at the heap of clothes on the floor. "Also, these heels are instruments of torture."

I strolled over to the closet, picking out a stylish yet professional number: a blazer and a pair of dress pants. "Here, try this."

He held the blazer up against his new, curvier frame, squinting. “This isn’t going to hide anything, you know.”

Dad struggled into the blazer, tugging and adjusting until it fit snugly over Mom’s—not his—bust. The pants were even trickier. “Why are her hips like this?” he exclaimed.

"Just shimmy—no, not like that. More like a... shuffle," I instructed, trying to contain my giggles.

After a few exasperated grunts and some careful maneuvering, he finally managed to squeeze into the pants. He looked surprisingly professional... if you ignored the pink fluffy slippers he had forgotten to change.

"Dad, the heels!" I said, pointing down.

He glanced at the clock, panicked. "No time! These'll have to do."

Ten minutes later, we were stepping out of the car at his office building. He lunged out with his pink slippers still on and his steps clunky but determined. The world was not ready for what was about to hit it.

We rushed through the glass doors and into the elevator, standing beside his bewildered boss, Mr. Carruthers.

"Peggy! You look... different today," Mr. Carruthers said, raising an eyebrow.

Dad—now Mom's body—gave a nervous laugh, voice shooting up an octave. "Just feeling refreshed, you know. A new shadow palette and all that."

Mr. Carruthers blinked. "Of course, of course."

We reached the meeting room where the pitch for the revolutionary body swap technology was set to take place. Dad’s colleagues were gathered around, looking intrigued. Dad—or was it Mom?—began the presentation: his charm and charisma shining through despite the unusual attire.

“All of you have probably wondered what it might be like to walk in someone else’s shoes,” he began smoothly. “Well, now you can—literally.”

He—she?—demonstrated the tech, showing photos and explaining the features in detail. Despite the initial disbelief, the room buzzed with excitement. Dad was in his element, even if that element happened to be high heels and eyeliner.

By the end of the presentation, the room erupted in applause. Mr. Carruthers beamed with pride. "Absolutely stellar, Peggy! I knew this product was special, but seeing it in action is something else entirely."

Dad leaned on me as we left the room, clearly exhausted but grinning from ear to ear. "See, Annie? I told you I could do it."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Never doubted you for a second. Now, let’s go home and figure out how to reverse this swap before Mom teaches Dad’s poker buddies how to bake a soufflé."

As we walked back toward the car, Dad wobbled a bit but straightened up, looking more confident than ever. It turns out, no matter the body they’re in, a true salesman—salesperson?—will always close the deal.

This story was generated by user zach3 with assistance by one of OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.

Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALL·E 2, or uploaded by the user.

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