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It's the morning after the day before, and I'm my old self again. This wearing other people's clothes and touching a magic statue in order to become them has so far been all about sex. All well and good I suppose, but exhausting. Surely, there must be other benefits to this. As I'm sipping my first coffee of the day, I consider this possibility. For instance, if I wore one of Eric Clapton's socks, might I be able to play blues guitar like a dream? If I were to break into Christiano Ronaldo's wardrobe, would I end up playing football for Manchester United? It slowly begins to dawn on me that while I've been pursuing pleasures of the flesh, I could have been making my fortune. I could really have been somebody. "I coulda been a contender" as Mr Brando says in 'On the Waterfront'. I could have been performing life saving operations in an operating theatre, or playing a staring role in a very different kind of theatre. Hell, if I could get hold of one of the Prime Minister's old cast offs, I could wind up running the country.

I'm tempted and so I start devising a cunning plan to contact the rich, the famous, the powerful and the gifted; asking for donations of clothing to be sold at auction for charity. I could then possibly make personal appearances as some of them them for big money. Hey, I could be a rock star and have screaming teenage girls quite literally throwing themselves at me. I'd make sure I caught one alright; preferably by the soft, wobbly bits. Yeah, I know, we're back to it all being about sex again, aren't we. There's got to be more to being anyone I fancy being than just nookey!

I need to think 'money' instead. Big money. Obscene multibillionaire standard piles of cash. Now, who's got it and how can I get at it? Or to put it a different way, who do I have to sleep with in order to get my greedy little mits on it. Yeah, I know; sex again, but for a typical CHYOA story, that's kind of crucial, don'tyou think? I reckon my best bet is to become the sexiest girl I know and then get some fat cat industrialist to seduce me and the pay me gazillions to not tell anyone about it. It's a good plan. It's got legs.....and with my sisters entire wardrobe to choose from, pretty soon, it'll have Sonia's shapely legs to help me lead some letcherous old moneybags astray.

Ps, must remember to get photos somehow; although the recorded voice of a man ordering a female victim to suck his dick might do just as well. You know what, a short skirt and a smart phone and I'm just about ready. Guess what? There's horse racing on at our local course this afternoon. That's the kind of place rich guys who don't mind taking a risk like to go to get their kicks. Hmmmm! Might be kind of fun to see if I can tempt one of them to take a chance on poor, defenceless little 'Sonia'.