Not good. You actually have a serious medical condition called "I don't have a piece of sexy arm candy"

"Well," you say, "things could be better."

"Oh no," your hot tomboy friend says in genuine concern. Before, she would've given you shit and said she hopes things get worse. That was just how you bantered with her. But you can clearly see the effects of this freeuse reality warping her personality.

"How can I help you feel better, John?" she asks you. You can see in her eyes that she's down to do anything.

"I don't have a girlfriend," you start, "and I--"

"I'LL be your girlfriend, then!" Jesse interrupts, and she locks elbows with yours. "Is it loneliness? Or did you want a girl to show off to your parents? Or did you just want someone to worship you like a sex god all the time? 'Cus I can help with all the above!" she cheerily exclaims.

Your hot tomboy friend, now girlfriend, looks up at you expectantly. You now look at her in a completely different light, now that she's playdough in your hands. Despite the occassional masculine fashion choice, Jesse is still undeniably feminine. Her adorable face is one that you could spend all day making out with, or pounding your dick into.

"All of the above sounds great," you reply, and Jesse responds by squeezing your arm.