Find a woman for him to be...

It takes two days, but you’re in one of the honeymoon suites with a naked woman who looks like the recently-wed Mrs. April Landers, née April Carruthers. She’s a flawless blonde beauty who reminds you of a young Grace Kelly (the boy you used to be barely knew the name, but you’re Carrie Ma now and you’ve seen all Miss Kelly’s movies). She’s looking with obvious desire at her reflection, and since you used to be the boy wearing the April skin, you know she’s about to start feeling herself up. You take out the brown “pen” from the inside pocket of the vest that’s part of your hotel uniform, and zap April in the head at close range. She’s dazed, looks dizzy but seems steady on her perfect long legs... in perhaps thirty seconds she is truly Mrs. Landers in self, though with some unlikely memories. “This is excellent, Ms. Ma,” she says, with a hint of a Southern accent. “Thank you!” Her gratitude clearly is too much for words, and her eyes glisten with tears of happiness.

“You’re April Landers, formerly Carruthers, for life,” you tell her. “You cannot take off the skinsuit that makes you who you are. You cannot tell anyone anything that even implies you’ve ever been anyone else. You cannot tell anyone that I haven’t always been Caroline Ma. You’re not to interfere with my life unless I want you to.”

“Yes, Ms. Ma,” she says, sounding completely contented with your orders.

“You’ll address me in a way suitable for who we are. You’ll give me your contact number and e-mail address, and send me updates as necessary, so I can always get in touch with you.” You get out an ordinary pen and two of your Ms. Caroline S. Ma business cards from your vest, and April writes a phone number and e-mail address on one and hands it back to you, then quickly goes over to her Prada handbag to put the other card (and the cheap pen, but that’s fine and strikes you as perfect for April’s new personality) in her wallet. Then she starts to get dressed, saying, “Anything else, Caroline?”

“We’re both thoroughly heterosexual women,” you say, just in case any residue of the boy she was wants to live out the girl-on-girl porn he liked so much. You’re a straight chick and she’ll damned well be one too. “And do your best to make your marriage really work. If you have to divorce Mr. Landers, you may, but only as a last resort.”

“I promise I’ll do my best, Caroline,” she says, already almost dressed again.