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Question: Story: Write me a story the way I type about a 6 year old boy with a description of the boy's name, appearance, what state he's from, what he looks like, what he sounds like, and what he's wearing as he goes to bed. Have him wake up the next morning somewhere random in another state in the body of a woman sleeping on the couch with her boyfriend or husband while watching TV with a description of what the state the boy wakes up in, the name of the woman, her age, what she looks like, have him be older than someone he used to be younger than with the age of the person included, describe the outfit possibly dress she fell asleep in and shoes possibly platform sandals she woke up wearing and accessories and possibly tattoos and possibly makeup and possibly lipstick and possibly nail polish. Please have the boy unwillingly say something to the man he wakes up next to about the man's appearance only the woman would say. Please have the boy unwillingly say something about sleeping only the woman would say. Please have the boy unwillingly say something about the man in regards to the platform sandals only the woman would say. Please have the boy unwillingly say something about the outfit only the woman would say. Please have the boy unwillingly say something about the makeup only the woman would say. Please have the boy unwillingly say something about the woman's tattoos only the woman would say. Please have the boy unwillingly say something about the woman's accessories only the woman would say. Please have the boy unwillingly say something about how the woman met the man only the woman would say. Please have the boy unwillingly say something extremely rude and judgmental about the man and his appearance only the woman would say. Please have the boy unwillingly say something about how the man isn't allowed to say anything back to the woman about what she just said to him only the woman would say. Please have the boy unwillingly say something about the state he woke up in only the woman would say. Please have the boy unwillingly say something nasty about other states and something especially disrespectful about the state he's actually from and something rude about the people from the state he's actually from only the woman would say. The swap is permanent. The boy misses his family.
In the quaint town of Oklahoma City, there lived a young boy named Jake. Jake was a happy-go-lucky 6-year-old with bright, twinkling sapphire eyes and hair as golden as the summer sunshine. He was a little fellow with soft childlike features, and his voice, like the delicate rhythm of a wind chime, always held an innocence that you simply couldn't overlook. Every night as he went to bed, he wore his favorite green dinosaur pyjamas with matching slippers. One magical morning, Jake woke up; only it wasn't Jake anymore. He found himself in Tucson, Arizona, laying on a couch next to a man watching TV and realizing he's in the body of a woman named Veronica. Veronica was a 33-year-old woman with fiery red hair, emerald green eyes, and a voice that hinted at a mix of sweetness and passion. He- or should we say, she was older than her younger sister Alice, who she always used to surpass in age; only now, Veronica was 33, and Alice was 34. Veronica was dozing off in a flowing red satin dress, her feet adorned with white platform sandals. Her arms were gracefully adorned with intricate tattoos, an homage to her bohemian spirit. She wore a delicate silver necklace that sparkled under the dim light of the television. Her face, though relaxed in sleep, was brushed with a natural makeup look, a dash of red lipstick highlighting her lips, and her nails painted a complementary deep crimson. As Jake, now Veronica, sat up, she found herself commenting to the man to her side, “Carl, you really should consider using some beard oil. Your beard is getting quite rough.” Jake winced internally at words he didn't think he would say. Again, words slipped out he didn't want to articulate, “I slept like a baby; this new satin dress feels just so cozy.” Jake's mind was a whirlwind. He looked down at the platform sandals, “Carl, why can't you understand these platforms are not just shoes, they are fashion statements.” He traced his fingers along the fabric of the red satin dress, commenting, “This is my favorite dress, you know Carl. It accentuates my curves perfectly.” He took a look at the mirror, studying the makeup, “A little mascara can do wonders, don't you think?” He traced the varying tattoos, uttering, "Each tattoo tells a story, Carl. They are not just ink." In his new smooth voice he found himself saying, “Remember Carl, we met at that wild concert. Ah, those were days!” The words that came out next were tart and sharp, “Carl, you really need to up your game! Presentation matters.” She added, “And you are not entitled to say anything rude about my comments!” There it was, a judgment about the state, “I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but Tucson. The warmth here is unparalleled!” Suddenly, a spiteful comment escaped about states she’d never carelessly judged before as Jake, “People in Oklahoma don’t know what style is! Just so drab and dull!” That one hit hard. Throughout this, Jake's heart yearned for his family and for himself, the life he was trapped out of, but for now, Jake –or Veronica, had to navigate this new world in a body that wasn't his own.
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