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Question: Write me a long and thorough and detailed story the way I write about a random 6 year old boy with a description of the boy's name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, what state he's from, hair color and style and eye color. His young mom's name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color. His young dad whose no longer in his life's name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color. His young aunt's name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color. His young uncle whose busy doing other stuff's name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color. His grandma's name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color. Have him be walking home alone for the first time when he gets home and the house is completely empty. Have him sit down on the couch and blink only to suddenly find himself sitting somewhere less nice. Have him look down to notice he's in a more mature body. Have him realize he's a woman wearing a revealing outfit barefoot with accessories and makeup and painted nails but covered in bruises, cuts and marks and have a part of her body be bruised revealing what it was not being her foot or ankle or leg with a description of the outfit. Reveal the woman's name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color possibly being dyed and style and eye color and what state she's from and what she was doing just seconds ago and what she does for work. Have a male grab the boy's new female feet shoving a pair of sandals on his feet with a description of the sandals. Have the boy in the woman's body jerk and unwillingly complain about how uncomfortable the shoes are and have it be in quoted text mentioning what she did for work and cussing. Reveal who the male is to the girl, his name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color. Have the man tell the woman she don't get to pick what shoes she gets and to shut up and have it be in quoted text pulling her off the ground and shoving a purse on her shoulder and cussing at her. The swap is permanent and the boy is sad. Have the boy say he's gonna miss mommy so much and have it be in quoted text. Have the boy unwillingly adjust the outfit and sandals in a feminine way before leaving and going and unhappily starting his new life. Have the boy stop and look at the sandals on his new female feet being reminded of the injury he currently had. Have the boy unwillingly say how she really wished she had made better decisions when she was younger instead doing this and have it be in quoted text mentioning her job by name.
This is the tale of Jackson "Jack" Hanson, a young boy of just six years, born on chilly November day, November 10th, to be precise, in 2015. Jack was born in the quaint town of Portsmouth, New Hampshire. As for his physical details, he stood three feet and nine inches tall, weighing a very healthy forty pounds. His hair, a mop of brunette curls, was usually cut short and styled into a disheveled yet charmingly suitable mess for a boy his age. His eyes were a unique shade of hazel - a curious mix of the brown from his mother's eyes and green from his father's. His mother, Grace Hanson, a petite beauty of twenty-six, was born on April 23rd of 1995. She was slim but strong at 5 feet 4 inches and 125 pounds. Grace's delicate features were accentuated by her champagne blonde hair styled in a sleek bob and her sparkling green eyes. Despite her youthful age, Grace radiated a mature aura. Jack's father, Jonathan "John" Hanson, was no longer in Jack's life, leaving them when Jack was barely one. John, born on July 15th, 1993, was a robust man standing at 6 feet tall and weighing 175 pounds. His hair, a deep brown, was often kept short and styled in a soft spike. His eyes, icy blue, were now but a mere memory for Grace and Jack. Amy, Grace's younger sister, was the playful aunt of Jack. Twenty-one years old, born on February 7th, 2000, she was a bubbly personality and a breath of fresh air for everyone. Standing at 5 feet 7 inches and weighing 134 pounds, with vibrant red hair styled in boisterous waves and striking blue eyes, she was the quintessential fiery redhead. Jack's uncle, Joseph, the younger brother of John, was often missing due to his commitments. Joe, now twenty-three, was born on March 22nd, 1998. Towering at 6 feet 2 inches, hefty at 180 pounds, with jet black hair styled in a simple, clean cut, and sporting piercing brown eyes, Joe carried with him a serious demeanor. Jack's beloved Grandma Helen was a nurturing seventy-year-old, born on May 30th 1951. Despite her age, she carried a regal height of 5 feet 6 inches and her weight, she would say with a twinkle in her eyes, was a secret. Her once brown hair now a crown of silver waves, complemented her soft brown eyes filled with years of wisdom. One day, as Jack walked home for the first time unaccompanied by an adult, he reached an empty house, a sight rather alien to him. Sitting down on the rather plush, velvety couch, he blinked and in the blink of an eye, he found himself translocated to an unkempt, dilapidated room sitting on a creaky wooden stool. Looking down at himself, bewildered, he realized his body had undergone a drastic change. He was now in the body of a woman; a woman named Bella Foster, a twenty-eight-year-old from Florida. Bella, born on December 20th, 1993, was an imposing figure standing at 5 feet 10 inches, a curvy 165 pounds. Her naturally sandy brown hair was now dyed a distinct, bold black, styled in messy waves, falling gracefully over her shoulders. Her eyes were a fiery brown. Tasked with serving drinks at a local bar, she wore a revealing outfit and accessories that illuminated her painted nails. But her body was covered in a mode of disturbance—bruises, cuts, and marks. The most glaring of those was a conspicuous bruise on her right arm. As Jack peered down, he saw Bella's bare feet quickly shod with a pair of sequined silver sandals by a man. The sandals were uncomfortable, Bella's toes were squished, and the straps bit into her feet. "Damn these ridiculous stilettos," Bella complained unwillingly, her tone laced with bitterness, "Why did I ever think becoming a bartender was a good idea?" The man, who was named Frank, was a bar bouncer who was Bella’s occasional confidant. Frank, born on June 15th, 1986, was a towering figure of 6 feet 5 inches and weighing a muscular 220 pounds. His hair, though naturally black had silvered at spots. His eyes, intimidating yet strangely compassionate, were brown. "You don't get to choose your shoes, sweetheart. Now, shut up and get to work," Frank said rather curtly as he pulled Bella off the ground. A rough shove made Bella's purse land on her shoulder. His words stung but such was the reality of Bella's life. Now, Jack's life. "I'm going to miss mommy so much," Jack whispered, on the brink of tears, his innocent eyes filled with sorrow. His heart broke as he knew the swap was permanent. Jack, now Bella, tried to adjust the too-tight outfit and the sandals in the most feminine manner possible before walking out to participate in the cacophony that was the bar. Jack stopped for a moment to look at the sandals that now adorned his feet, a sharp pain in his arm reminding him of the deep bruise. With a sigh of resignation, Bella whispered, "I wish I'd made better decisions when I was younger instead of bartending." Thus, commenced his new life; Jack was no more a carefree six-year-old boy, but Bella, a feisty twenty-eight-year-old woman, embarking on a journey, laced with trials and tribulations he had never thought he'd experience.
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