Sunday, August 07, 2011

ZANE - WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

OKAY OKAY OKAY I'm sobered up a bit now. It's nearly 5 AM and I'm afraid to leave this room so I thought I would send you another e-mail kindly asking WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON???

I was feeling weird until I passed out. I was asleep for maybe an hour when I heard a knock at the door. I stand up to answer it and my legs give out from under me. My clothes feel baggy, but I hold my waistband and slowly walk across the room. When I open the door I'm looking down at this chick dressed a guy's t-shirt and boxers. I can barely see her in the darkness and for a second I think it's Lisa, but Lisa's blonde.

"Hello?" I say in a whisper, my throat scratchy from all the drinking I did last night.

"Zane?" she asks.

"Uh, yeah?"

"So it happened to you too."

"What happened?" I'm totally confused what this chick is going on about.

"This happened." She pokes me in the chest and walks past me into my room. And where she poked me, it feels soft, kinda spongy, kinda like... well, like a breast. Like a girl's breast.

I look down and I can kinda see them and I can kinda feel them hanging off my chest but they're not... I mean, I can't tell if I feel anything different. She walks through to my washroom and turns on the light and I just keep asking myself "Do I know this lady? What's she going on about?" rather than, you know, noticing what's going on with me. That happened a second later when she said "Come look, you idiot."

I follow her because I think something sexy is going on, or I'm having a really lucid, really freaky dream. She's staring at herself in the mirror. I turn and face the reflection and

THAT'S NOT ME.

I gasp. "What the FUCK." Suddenly I notice how squeaky my voice has gotten. Way too high.

In the mirror, I see us clearly. She's short, her head only comes up to my neck. Long dark hair, squinting at herself. I don't have time to really look at her face because I'm too busy looking at mine or at least where mine is supposed to be. But I don't see me.

I see a chick.

She's tall and thin and... pretty, I guess, but she's ME. I moved my hand in front of my face and it was like... like I was watching somebody else.

She was a girl though. Me. I'm the girl. I cup my hands over my breasts and I feel them... they can move and everything. They just barely fit in my hands but it's like I have my own tits growing off me! I scream out "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS WHO ARE YOU??"

And she looks up at me, totally calm and everything and goes "Zane. I'm Anthony."

Bullshit.

She doesn't look like Anthony. She doesn't sound like Anthony. She's dressed in his clothes but...

but...

shit. I look at myself again. I don't look or sound like me. Something happened.

I back away. I don't want to look. I don't want to see anything.

She starts pacing back and forth like Anthony does. Talking very confidently.

"Okay, let's get a handle on this. Overnight, we, our bodies, have been transformed."

"We've been transformed??" I repeat, not believing this shit.

"It's the only... explanation. It sounds crazy, but we're in our own rooms. I was in bed when it happened. Something startled me and I just woke up like this. In my own room, still in my own clothes. Zane, we've turned into girls."

I stare at her. "This is what I'd look like as a girl?"

"That's what you DO look like. Zane. This must have happened to everyone here."

"Well what about the girls? Did they turn into guys?"

"Potentially," he says. Or she says?

"Well do you think there's a way to undo this?"

"I don't know. How would I know?"

"I don't know! You seem to know what's going on!"

"Just because I'm calm, don't misunderstand, Zane, I'm just as confused as anyone. But freaking out isn't going to do us any good. Something happened to us that's beyond explanation. We might be stuck, or we might just need to stay like this for a little while."

So I'm asking YOU, TRADING POST EMAIL to please EXPLAIN THIS SHIT TO ME.

Ugh I can't even look at my dainty little hands while I'm typing this. Fuuuuck.

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