Something final.

Jessie blinked in the lights and her feet lifted off of the ground. Or had the ground dropped out from under her? She felt weightless, but there was a motion. It was as though she was caught in a tornado, but the lights remained fixed in her eyes. The cacophonous roar of the crowd pulsed in her ears, but it didn't bother her. It felt good. She felt good. Felt strong.

Somewhere Chrissie was trying to tell her something. It was lost in the din, though. She felt the light and sound pulse through her chest and cried out, her voice drowned in the cacophony. She looked at her hands and saw the veins, the muscles, the tendons and bones. She turned her fist over and flexed it, watching all of the capillaries and follicles dance in concert.

Jessie was suddenly aware of a tightness around her abdomen. She looked down to see a form-fitting black dress with white trim snugly wrapped around her body. She barely had a moment to register that her tits and ass were bigger before another shockwave hit and she was reeling, spinning end over end. She felt the power in her surge again and her legs were flying, her hair was pulled in a thousand directions, and just as she thought she'd actually be blown apart by the ****-

Jessie was standing on stage again. Her knees were shaking, but she **** them to be still. Chrissie was standing center stage, looking frightened. Her eyes darted wildly across the platform, but there was no sign of- of who? There was another person here, before. Her mind drifted to the past. Before what? There was money, she wanted money. No, she had wanted money. What did she want now?

Jessie raised her right hand and saw a microphone. Why did she have a microphone? She looked to Chrissie, who still wore a terrified expression. Terrified of me, she realized. Chrissie was scared of her, and why shouldn't she be? The crowd was hushed, waiting for something to happen. Suddenly Jessie realized that she had a manic grin plastered across her face. She took two steps towards the audience and made a dramatic sweeping gesture with her left hand.

"Folks," she exclaimed in a booming voice she hardly recognized, "who's ready for another game of Bimbo or Billionaire?"