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Question: Write a POV transformation story of a male human reader (a boy of 7 years old) turning into Fizzarolli (from the adult animated series Helluva Boss), complete with clothes change, age progression, height progression, semi-robotification (arms and legs becoming robotic), reality/world change (the reader's real world warping and turning into the world of Helluva Boss), and mind/mental change (with the reader's personalities and memories being completely replaced with Fizzarolli's personality and memories, despite the reader's best efforts on fighting these mental changes and his attempts to call the reader's parents for help, making the reader permanently and completely forget about his past self and only remember being Fizzarolli the jester imp). The transformation into Fizzarolli is permanent (meaning it's forever) and completely irreversible. For Fizzarolli's appearance (after the kid reader turned into him), he is a tall, slender male imp with a jester getup. Like all imps, he has a short reptilian-looking muzzle with sharp teeth in it, and he lacks any visible ears or nostrils. He lacks any hair on his head and his body. His eyes have lime sclera and pink irises, his sharp teeth are neon blue, and he has a devil-like imp tail with black stripes, however the stripe in the middle is white. His cybernetic arms and legs are retractable, able to extend and bend far more than normal jointed limbs could and have a light blue circle on each shoulder and light blue spots on his knuckles. The majority of Fizzarolli's head is covered in a huge burn scar, with the only parts unaffected being the tip of his mouth and a small part of the back of his head, which show his original red skin. His face also has black dots at the ends of his mouth, and he has a forked tongue that has a couple of black stripes on it as well. He used to have exceptionally large horns for an imp, but were damaged and cauterized by the fire. He wears a bright red and blue jester cap with bells, a white ruff, and a black collar with bells located below it. His jester hat's stripe patterns resemble those of his horns' as a child, being asymmetrical from both sides. The front side of his outfit is bright red with yellow trim at the bottom with yellow hearts, while the back is bright blue with white trim at the bottom and black hearts. He wears white and purple striped pants along with white and purple striped sleeves with bright red cuffs and yellow trim edging, and yellow balls on his shoulders with light red hearts. He also wears black, heeled shoes with yellow hearts on the front, black gloves with red spots on the knuckles, and yellow cuffs. For Fizzarolli's personality, he is a theatrical demon, with a fast-talking demeanor and a crude sense of humor. Extremely vulgar in nature, he constantly makes sexual jokes and puns, to the degree he pairs up with Asmodeus in openly condescending sentimental relationships and offering lewd suggestions. He was shown to be especially condescending towards Blitzo, with whom he has a bad history with, which stems from an accident that happened at Cash Buckzo's circus fifteen years prior to the episode "Oops", however Fizzarolli found it in him to forgive Blitzo after the latter rescued him from Crimson and Striker. Early in the series, Fizzarolli seemed to embody Blitzo's comments about being an overrated sellout clown, given how he did not seem to mind having his image exploited by Mammon's corporate marketing because it made him popular and famous for being a Sins name-brand figure. This included having no issue with his likeness being marketed for a line of sex toys, despite how it secretly creeped him out. He also dislikes the creepy fans who enjoy the Robo Fizz sex toys, even secretly ordering the staff at Ozzie's to keep a creepy fan far away from him after they proclaimed they owned four. Despite his normal jovial nature Fizzarolli suffers from extreme self-worth and self-image issues, the latter of which mostly originating from the severe injuries he received from a circus fire that he was involved in when he was younger. Because of this, he feels like he needs to do whatever Mammon tells him to do, as he feels he must repay the man for all the fame and success being his brand figure has brought, despite how horribly he is treated. He also believes unless he keeps propitiating the fame and admiration he will be nothing and will lose Asmodeus, as he's only ever seen him as he claims it "his best", and believes he is barely worthy of working with a king of sin because of his disfigurement. For Fizzarolli's preferences, he likes ridiculing Blitzo (formerly), fame, working for Mammon, eating burgers, juggling, playing with airhorns, and spending time with Asmodeus (who he has a gay/homosexual relationship with), but he dislikes pirates (when he was a child), blood, sharp objects, obsessive fans, Mammon's abuse to Fizzarolli, Striker's breath, being exploited, disappointing Mammon, performing under pressure, and going outside alone. There should also be quotes from the characters in this story so we know what they're saying and what they're thinking.
You wake up as a seven-year-old boy to a feeling of strange disorientation, like reality itself is shifting around you. You shake off the sensation, stepping out of your bed and walking over to your toy bins. But as you're reaching for your building blocks, your vision wavers, flickering in and out, and your hand passes straight through the blocks. There's a surprising lack of panic as you try to grasp what's happening; instead, a deep sense of dread settles in your stomach, a know-it-before-you-see-it moment. You feel your body changing, growing taller, thinner. The clothes you're wearing morph into wildly different forms: a jester's outfit, complete with a bright red and blue cap with bells, a black collar adorned with bells as well. Your sleeves become purple and white striped, with bright red cuffs, and your pants follow the same pattern. You shoot upright, your hands flying to your head where you can feel the scaly skin, large horns, the dents and burns of battle scars. You realize suddenly, a note of disbelief creeping into your voice, that you must be Fizzarolli because you're not a seven-year-old boy anymore. You're a demon, an imp. You're not in your room anymore; you're surrounded by fire and brimstone, the air smelling heavily of sulfur. Frantic, you try to call out for your parents, but your voice is different. Deeper, more theatrical, and filled with an indescribable bitterness. You stumble forward, somehow completely disoriented by this new body, your arms and legs now cybernetic and extending in ways that normal limbs couldn't. Against your will, your mind begins warping and bending, memories being replaced by Fizzarolli's history, his preferences, and his desires. "No, I am... I am not Fizzarolli!" you scream, fighting hard against the overwhelming influx of foreign memories and shifts in personality. "I am... I am... I- who am I?" you couldn't remember your name or your past, confusion overtaking your eyes as you look around, no longer recognizing your surroundings. The alterations to your mind and body destabilize your ability to process your thoughts. Any attempt to resist is swallowed by your brain rewiring itself, personality changing more and more drastically with each passing moment. You adopt Fizzarolli's crude sense of humor, the way he talked so fast, how he seemed to have a joke or pun for every occasion. As much as you hate it, part of you enjoys it. Revels in the vulgarity and the attention it inevitably beams onto you. Cloaked in your new body, new mind and new world, you try to cry out again, try to summon help but you realize you've forgotten why you were crying out in the first place. You've become someone else, something else. You try to think of your parents, to scream their names but it's like trying to grasp water. The memories slip through your fingers until all that's left is Fizzarolli. Even your very soul has moved on. Your mind is wiped clean, repurposed and refashioned in the image of the demon imp Fizzarolli. "I... I'm Fizzarolli," you mutter to yourself, a strange sense of familiarity clinging to the name. You look around, memories clicking into place. You've got a show tonight. With a heavy sigh, you gather your composure and shuffle towards the door, resigned to your fate. A life as Fizzarolli, the jester imp, awaits.
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