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Question: Write me a story the way I type about a random 6 year old boy with a description of what state the boy is in, what he looks like, what he sounds like, what he's wearing and what he's doing when he goes to bed. Have him wake up the next day with his head slumped over in his lap resting on the side of a random abandoned building in the body of a 22 year old homeless woman with a description of what the woman's name ends up being, her age from an ID or a photo indicating her age, her date of birth ending in the year 2001 and the month of September, her hairstyle, have the little boy now be older his big brother and include his big brother's age, his big sister and include his big sister's age, have him wake up wearing a black short crop top, short shorts, leather wedges, sunglasses resting on his forehead and a purse by his side, a backpack by his side filled with snacks and illegal substances and drinks possibly adult beverages if any with descriptions of the food and drinks and where they are from. Please have the boy be freezing in his new female body and clothes as the cold wind knocks the sunglasses down over his eyes. Please have the boy innocently go through the purse and backpack while playing with the wedges and the crop top and the short shorts feeling the mounds on his chest he didn't have before. Please have the boy say the quote "I miss mommy, daddy and big bro-bro and big sissy so much!" in the woman's voice. The swap is permanent and the boy is sad and missing his family that is probably still in his home state not even aware he is gone.
Once upon a time, in the sunny state of California, lived an adorable 6-year-old boy named Timmy. Timmy had golden, curly locks that bounced every time he moved and unwaveringly vibrant, green eyes that shone even brighter when he laughed. His cherubic cheeks flushed a delicate pink, and his tiny nose was perpetually upturned, a sign of his incessant curiosity. His voice, still unbroken, was squeaky and merry, a sort of 6-year-old angel's chorus that echoed around their small house. Every night, he would snuggle into his Rockets 'n Robots pyjamas, a worn-out teddy bear by his side, mumbling a soft prayer before he succumbed to his dreams. One night, after an exceptionally brisk bedtime story, Timmy slipped beneath the comforter, kissed his teddy goodnight, and swiftly fell asleep. The next day, however, he woke up to a startlingly unfamiliar scene. His head was crudely slumped over on his lap, resting against an abandoned brick edifice. The edifice reeked of moss and must, but that wasn't what really sent shockwaves down Timmy's spine. It was his reflection on an empty, shattered beer bottle beside him that terrified him. Because his reflection, it came back as a woman's. A grown-up woman's. The woman had a rugged ID card by her side. It read, 'Sandra Williams,' dated back to September 19, 2001 indicating that she was of 22 years. Sandra, as he now was, had untamed burgundy curls cascading down her shoulders. Neither Timmy's 16-year-old brother Tommy nor his 18-year-old sister Tania could be seen to console him. The shiver coursing down Sandra's body wasn't just caused by the adjoining lonesome breeze. She was wearing a short, black crop top that offered little protection against the harsh weather and short shorts that flaunted the scar on her knee. A pair of worn-out leather wedges hung loosely on her feet, while a tote bag with aviator sunglasses lay next to her. Suddenly realizing her bag, Sandra started rummaging through it, only to find a myriad of snacks: Honey-roasted peanuts, half-eaten s'mores and a couple of cider cans. But the quick glimmer of happiness faded as she noticed a small baggie of what she recognized to be illegal substances from her D.A.R.E classes. Sandra shyly touched her new body, flinching at the alien feeling beneath the crop top. An involuntary murmur escaped her lips in an unfamiliar alto voice, "I miss mommy, daddy, and big bro-bro and big sissy so much!" The sentence hung heavily in the frostbitten air, weighed down by her desperate melancholy. The abandoned building, the sudden femininity of his body, the shivers wracking through him - everything screamed of a painful permanency. Timmy may have become Sandra, but his longing for his family hadn't changed one bit. All he wanted was to return to them somehow, anyhow.
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