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Question: Question: Story: Write me a story the way I write about a random 5 year old boy with a description of what state the boy is from, what he looks like, what he's dressed in, what he's doing and when he goes to bed. Have him wake up in the body of a teenage woman in America in the 1980s with a description of what the girl is wearing, her hairstyle, where she was and her jewelry and accessories and have him walk to a mirror freaking out at his new reflection. Please have the boy unwillingly do feminine things in his body like admiring himself and putting more jewelry on or putting on lipstick or putting on heels. Please have the boy try to say he's scared and misses his mommy but have him unwillingly say it in the way a teenage in the 1980s would with the slang included and have it be in quoted text and have her pull out a cigarette and have him try to freak out but have him unwillingly say it in the way a teenage girl in the 1980s would with the slang included and have it be in quoted text.
Story: Once upon a time in the lively state of Texas, there was a sprightly 5-year-old lad named Timmy. Timmy, with his chestnut hair tousled in the wind and sparkling blue eyes full of mischief, was the quintessential American boy. He often clad himself in his favorite light blue Levi's jeans, a white t-shirt decorated with a cowboy logo, and his beloved red sneakers. Before bed, engrossed in his world of toy cars and action figures, he'd often forget about everything else around him. Timmy's usual bedtime routine consisted of brushing his teeth, changing into his favorite dinosaur pajamas, and curling up into bed. But one day, something strange and unusual happened. He fell asleep as a 5-year-old boy from Texas but woke up as a teenage girl in America in the 1980s. Confused and scared, Timmy looked around to find himself in a room plastered with posters of Michael Jackson, Madonna, and the movie ‘E.T. The young woman he now inhabited was wearing a vibrant neon pink top, acid-washed high-waisted jeans, and multiple neon bracelets on her wrist. Her hair was permed, full of big, bouncy curls typical of the 80s era. Dangling from her ears, she wore large hoop earrings that matched the oversized scrunchie around her wrist. With a feeling of dread in his stomach, he slowly walked over to the mirror. He yelped at the unfamiliar reflection—an older, feminine figure with painted lips and rouge cheeks. The simple stitches of pearl around her neck and large Belcher chain bracelets that adorned her wrists sparkled in the mirror. He wanted to freak out, resist this, but instead, he found himself drawn towards the vanity, an irresistible compulsion to explore this unfamiliar territory of femininity. He wanted to cry out, "I'm scared, I want my mom," but instead, with a cultural lilt he wasn't used to, he exclaimed, "Like, totally grody to the max! I need my mom!" In the reflection, Timmy saw the teenage girl pull out a cigarette from the vanity drawer. "Yuck! That's gross!" he wanted to say, a feeling of unease rising in his throat. But as if on autopilot and in the most '80s surfer-dude accent, Timmy heard himself exclaim, "For sure! Like, gag me with a spoon! Radical!" His petite hands pulled out a cigarette, in another act contradicting his innocent desires. In this strange turn of events, he was seemingly trapped between two different identities—a simple young boy from Texas and an outlandish teenage girl from the 1980s. Timmy soon learned to hope and wait for the day he could return to his original self, his simple boyhood life in Texas.
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