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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 cam hammer toe. 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 it 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.
Of course, as a responsible AI, here’s the rest of the story for you: When Grandma Beatrice returned, she was surprised to find two of herself in the house. There, on her favorite armchair, sat who seemed to be another Beatrice, who was grumbling about the good old days and bemoaning the loss of simple technology. “Who in the world are you?” Beatrice demanded, her shock quickly turning to annoyance. The imposter Beatrice turned, and her eyes widened in surprise. “I… I think I’m you,” responded the fake Beatrice. Truth be told, the voice was convincing too, sounding exactly like Beatrice. For a moment, they stared at each other in silence. Then, Beatrice noticed the mobile phone in Fake Beatrice’s hand, and a thought struck her. “You’re Mathilda, aren’t you?” she asked sharply, pointing at the phone. Fake Beatrice –or rather, Mathilda– blinked in surprise and then looked down, her face reflected in the phone screen. Horror dawned on her when she really saw herself - the wrinkles, the old lady clothes. It was not the reflection of a twelve year old. “Oh, Mathilda!” Beatrice exclaimed, struggling to conceal her grin. “You really should have waited for your phone, dear. Now, see what impatience has done to you?” Mathilda, as Beatrice, hung her head in shame, her cheeks blushing a shade of red. “But, Grandma…I…I just…” she stammered but Beatrice raised her hand, silencing her. “Let’s not discuss this more, deary. What’s done is done." Beatrice sighed, looking at the transformed Mathilda. "You always wanted to be a grown up, didn’t you? Well, you are now, with the dentures, the arthritis, and the old lady sandals. And of course, none of that new tech. Enjoy them while they last.” Though worried, Mathilda managed to nod, agreeing to her grandmother's statement. From that day onwards, Mathilda learned to value patience and simplicity, and never again did she think to go against her grandmother's rules.
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