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Question: Write me a story about 12 year old Mathilda. Mathilda was at her 69 year old grandma Beatrice's house for the weekend. The second she entered the door, Beatrice took her phone. "It will be confiscated until you leave missy" Beatrice said. Mathilda waited till she heard Beatrice leaving to go shopping and grab dinner. Sneaking into her grandma's room, she saw Beatrice left her purse behind. Grabbing the purse, she ran out to the living room. She looked down suddenly noticing she accidentally slipped into a pair of her old lady sandals trying to slip them off. Removing the purse and getting her phone was easy. She suddenly felt her feet stuck in the sandals growing until they looked like her grandma's even getting her cameltoe. She couldn't move them hardly at all and tried to call her family for help. Her height increased slightly as she gained tan shorts and a short floral shirt. Her hair shriveled and turned white and her teeth became dentures as a pair of glasses formed on her face. She looked and sounded exactly like Beatrice now. She went back to the phone realizing she no longer understood it or how to use it as her mind fully changed into Beatrice's. "OH COME ON! PLEASE I--- I don't understand why a simple telephone with the good old spin dial is not good enough. Why you need the computer and the emojis and all the social media things. So unnecessary. Conversations should always be face to face" the new Beatrice rambled just like the real one would. The new Beatrice wondered how she blinked and ended up home spotting her purse on the ground. "Oh silly me. Must've forgotten my purse again. Too bad I left on the floor like an old goof" she said struggling to bend down and grab it. Beatrice left the house again suspicious as to why her granddaughter was so quiet thinking she would deal with her when she got back.
Mathilda, a sprightly and spirited twelve-year-old girl, had anticipated a peaceful weekend at her sixty-nine year-old Grandma Beatrice's house. Eager to spend some time with her beloved granny, she had not foreseen the unexpected turn of events that were about to happen. As soon as she stepped inside the snug and cozy house, she was greeted by Beatrice's stern face. "Your phone, missy. It will be confiscated until you leave," she demanded, clasping Mathilda's smartphone and placing it inside her oversized purse. After Grandma Beatrice announced her departure for a shopping expedition and dinner, Mathilda quickly formed a plan to reclaim her confiscated phone. She waited for Beatrice’s fading footsteps to recede into a distant echo, sneaked into her room, and swiftly grabbed the purse. The hasty action resulted in a pair slipping into a pair of Beatrice’s old lady sandals. The task of unlocking the purse and retrieving her phone was successful, but to Mathilda's shock, she couldn't free her feet from her granny's sandals. They were growing, stretching until they began resembling Beatrice’s, right down to her distinct camel toe. Her feet were stuck, and she angrily dialed her family for help, but while engaging in her attempts, she observed her height growing to match Beatrice's, her attire transforming into tan shorts and a short floral shirt, and her hair, turning white and shriveling. Suddenly, glasses formed around her eyes, and in a split second, her teeth turned into dentures. The transformation was uncanny. Mathilda now looked and sounded precisely like Beatrice. Baffled, she tried to turn back to her phone, but to her annoying surprise, she couldn't understand the device anymore. Her adolescent mind had given way to Beatrice's perspective. "OH COME ON! PLEASE I--- I don't understand why a simple telephone with the good old spin dial is not good enough. Why you need the computer and the emojis and all the social media things. So unnecessary. Conversations should always be face to face," she grumbled, echoing Beatrice's sentiments. In her new, elderly body, the new ‘Beatrice’ blinked and found herself back in familiar surroundings confused about how she left her purse on the floor, “Oh silly me. Must’ve forgotten my purse again. Too bad I left on the floor like an old goof,” she said, struggling to recover the purse on the floor. Meanwhile, the real Beatrice noticed her strangely quiet granddaughter, her curiosity piqued as she left them home. How the rest of the weekend unfolded is anyone’s guess, but one thing was certain - Mathilda would never underestimate her grandma's sandals again.
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