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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 in a different house on a different couch. Have him look down to notice he's in a more mature body. Have him realize he's a teenage girl wearing a revealing outfit barefoot with accessories and makeup and painted nails. Reveal the girl's name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color and what state she's from and what she was doing just seconds ago. 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 for a milestone and open toed. Reveal what the milestone is. Have the boy in the girl's body jerk but unwillingly playfully react to the shoes getting put on her feet saying something and have it be in quoted text calling the guy a cutie. Reveal who the male is to the girl, his name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color. 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 thank the male for putting her shoes on her feet and have it be in quoted text crossing her legs saying the male's name and who he is to the girl. Have the boy start crying as he wants to go home. Have the boy unwillingly get up and walk to a nearby mirror admiring her outfit and her shoes. Reveal what the outfit the girl is wearing is in detailed descriptions.
This is a story about a young boy named Timothy 'Timmy' Jones. Timothy or 'Timmy' as he'd prefer to be called, was six years old, tiny for his age too at just three feet six inches and weighing only 42 pounds. He was born on a sunny afternoon on the 11th of August, 2015 in the city of Minneapolis, Minnesota. He had light-brown, shaggy hair that usually fell over his bright blue eyes. For someone so young, Timothy had seen a lot of changes in his life. His mom, Rebecca, was a twenty-six-year-old brunette, who stood at five feet seven inches weighing 130 pounds. She was born on the 27th of January, 1995, her hair was wavy and brown, gently falling over her shoulders and her eyes were a soft green color. Timothy's father, Adam, was no longer in their lives. He was twenty-nine, born on the 2nd of February, 1992. Adam was six feet tall, weighing 170 pounds with a thin build. He had sandy brown hair that was usually in a buzz cut style and his eyes were hazel. Timothy also had an aunt, twenty-two-year-old Sarah, the younger sister of his mother. She was five foot three inches tall, weighed 108 pounds, and was born on June 15th, 1999. She had shoulder-length, curly red hair and green eyes the same as her sister's. On Timothy's mother's side, there was an uncle, twenty-four-year-old Alex, who was always too busy to spend time with them. Alex was six feet one inch tall, weighed 190 pounds, and was born on April 18th, 1997. Alex had short, straight black hair and light brown eyes. Everybody loved Timmy's grandma, Doris, a seventy-year-old lady born on December 19th, 1951. Despite her age, she was still in good shape, standing five feet tall, weighing 140 pounds with graying hair which she always kept neatly tied in a bun and her eyes were warm brown which always gleamed with wisdom. One day, Timmy faced a new challenge - walking home alone for the first time. He arrived at his house to find it eerily empty. Sad, he sat down on the couch, blinking as he did. As he opened his eyes, he found himself in a different house, on a different couch. Confused, he looked down and saw a mature body, a body that wasn't his own. This was the body of Christina Monroe, a typical teenage fashion fanatic from New York. Christina was sixteen, standing five feet seven inches tall and weighing 120 pounds. It was the 5th of May, 2005, when Christina came into this world as a beautiful baby with brown hair and captivating blue eyes. Just seconds ago, Christina was arguing with her friend over a dress for her Sweet 16th birthday. Suddenly, a male hand reached out to Christina's (Timothy's) feet and inserted them into a pair of open-toed stilettos, the perfect shoes for a 16th birthday bash. It was Mark, Christina's older brother. Mark was eighteen years old, standing at six feet tall and weighing 170 pounds. Born on 22nd July, 2003, he had his dad's brown hair, styled neatly, and carried his mother's hazel eyes. Timmy, now stuck in Christina's body, jerked at the touch but quickly covered it with a playful reaction, "You're such a cutie, Mark!" He did not like how easily the girlish voice slipped from him. The transformation was permanent, this realization hit Timothy like a gusty wind, making him whisper out, "I'm gonna miss mommy so, so much..." Unwillingly, he followed up with a thank you for Mark, "Thanks for putting my shoes on, Mark," he said, effortlessly crossing his legs like how he saw ladies do it on TV. The thought of not going back home drove him to tears. Timmy, now looking like Christina, stood up and walked towards the mirror. He admired his outfit, a black, satin cocktail dress, perfectly hugging his new curves. His new outfit accentuated with a silver choker and a pair of delicate, diamond-studded earrings. His fingernails were painted in rich, glossy ruby red. His feet, though unfamiliar, looked striking in pair of sleek, silver stilettos, his toes painted the same red as his fingers. His brown locks were curled into loose waves, bouncing as Christina's body moved. Even though he looked beautiful, he could only feel sadness, longing for his simple, less complicated old self.
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