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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 something be extremely sprained revealing what it was 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. Have a male grab the boy's new female feet shoving a pair of some kind of women's shoes on his feet. Have the shoes be skimpy and open toed. Have the boy in the woman's body jerk and unwillingly complain about how uncomfortable the shoes are demanding a different pair and have it be in quoted text mentioning another skimpy pair of shoes of some kind 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. 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 purse in a feminine way before leaving and going and unhappily starting his new life. Have the boy stop and look at the skimpy shoes on his new female feet being reminded of the injury he currently had.
In the heartland of Kansas, a spirited 6-year-old named Mason found himself in an extraordinary circumstance. Mason who was born on January 30, 2015, stood at a spritely 45 inches and weighed a paltry 42 pounds. His hair was a messy mop of golden curls, and his eyes were like two twinkling blue sapphires. The boy was the cherished son of Emily, a youthful mother of 26 whose physique, standing at 5'6" and weighing 135 pounds, mirrored her active and joyful life. Her birth year was 1995 and her birthday was March 10. Emily's hazel eyes sparkled with wisdom far exceeding her years, and her wavy chestnut hair was regularly seen in a neat, practical ponytail Mason's father, Jack, who was no longer present in his life, was a tall man at 6'3'' weighing 210 pounds. He was born February 8, 1989, making him 32 years old. Jack had a head full of unkempt black hair and intense green eyes, but his aloofness was clear from his overall demeanor. Mason's Aunt Clara was a lighthearted 24-year-old with a slender figure of 5'4" and weighing 120 pounds. She was born on April 4, 1997, and had straight, deep brown hair that cascaded down her shoulders and brown eyes that sparkled with youthful mischief. His Uncle Steve, was always busy with his job, he was a 29-year-old sturdy actor at a height of 5'11" and weighed 180 pounds. Steve, born on July 11, 1992, sported a jet-black Fringe haircut and ocean blue colored eyes that truly expressed his exuberance. The cornerstone of the family was Grandmother Ethel, born June 20, 1948, a sprightly 73-year-old who stood at 5'2" and weighed 160 pounds. Her hair was a fluffy cloud of snowy white and her eyes a soft, crinkled brown full of kindness and wisdom. One fateful afternoon, Mason walked home alone for the first time, only to find his home completely deserted. As he settled down on the plush couch, he blinked, and suddenly found himself plucked from the cob-webbed corners of Kansas and thrown into a grimy alley in New York. He looked down to find himself in a more mature body. His body was now owned by a woman named Vanessa, born on June 15, 1990, making her a 31 years old. Her height was 5'7", weight 150 lbs with an exotic raven-colored bob cut hairstyle contradicting her natural honey blond and hazel-colored eyes. Wearing a revealing albeit stylish red dress, Vanessa was no ordinary woman; she was what one would call a "street survivor". Vanessa was barefoot with metallic accessories, heavy smoky-eye makeup, and a candy apple red nail polish adorning her hands. Harrowing signs of a tough life were visible across her body: cuts, bruises, deep-grooved scars, and a sharply sprained ankle, more noticeable due to her current barefoot state. Suddenly, a burly man identified as Jimmy, with a scraggy beard and greased slick-back hair appeared. Jimmy, born on December 12, 1985, was a 36-years-old loan shark, 6'5" and 252 pounds with malicious brown eyes. He roughly scooped up Vanessa's feet, forcing her into a pair of strappy, open-toed heels that could barely be described as functional. Startled, Mason-Vanessa jerked away, yelping, "Jimmy, these are bloody uncomfortable! Can't you just lend me the other pair of wedges I used to rock?" But Jimmy was unforgiving. "Nah, sweetheart," he sneered. "You don't get to pick your shoes. Now shut up and get to work." With that, he roughly yanked Vanessa up, shoving a gaudy purse onto her shoulder and pushed her towards the dimly lit streets. The finality of the situation hit Mason like a brick, and he faltered, whispering with tears streaming down his face, "I will miss mommy so much...". As if possessed by Vanessa's courage, he gingerly adjusted his outfit, straightening his posture and slinging the glitzy purse over his shoulder. His swapped life had begun. As he stepped out onto the pulsing streets of New York, Mason looked down at his womanly feet ensnared in those open-toed shoes. The previous sprained ankle throbbed in protest, a cruel reminder of the reality he had been thrust into. With a heavy sigh, he began his new life, a life of survival, in the underbelly of a city that never sleeps.
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