took a break but coming back to the universe for a christmas tale, What happens when a sleazy producer of those cookie cutter christmas romances meet the ladies and their machine?

9 to 5: Shannon’s Christmas Redemption

Shannon opened the door to the break room and froze, her eyes narrowing as she took in the chaotic scene. Tinsel was draped over every available surface, including the coffee machine. A plastic tree leaned precariously in the corner, its ornaments an uneven mix of glitter-covered baubles and what appeared to be random household items that Anna had turned into makeshift decorations. In the center of the table was a cookie tin, the lid open to reveal several disturbingly burnt attempts at festive baking.

“What in the actual holly-jolly nightmare is this?” Shannon muttered, brushing a strand of blonde hair out of her face.

Melanie, seated at the table in a hideously bright sweater covered in dancing reindeer, grinned at her. “Merry Christmas, Shannon! Like what we’ve done with the place?”

Shannon frowned, stepping carefully around a pile of fake snow that had spilled onto the floor. “If by ‘like’ you mean ‘loathe with every fiber of my being,’ then sure. This looks like Santa’s workshop exploded in here.”

Anna popped her head in from the doorway, her grin as wide as ever. She was wearing a Santa hat and clutching a box of tangled Christmas lights. “It’s called holiday cheer, Shannon. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

“I love Christmas,” Shannon shot back, rolling her eyes. “I just don’t love stepping over glitter bombs and fake snow drifts every five seconds. This looks like one of those tacky Hallmark movies threw up.”

Melanie gasped, clutching her chest. “You take that back. Hallmark movies are an essential part of the season.”

“Essential?” Shannon raised an eyebrow, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “You mean those saccharine tales where some high-powered executive magically learns the ‘true meaning of Christmas’ because a small-town baker teaches them how to make gingerbread? Hard pass.”

Anna walked in, smirking. “Careful, Shannon, you’re starting to sound like a Scrooge. Maybe you need a visit from the Ghost of Christmas Clutter.”

Melanie laughed, but Shannon just crossed her arms. “I’m not a Scrooge. I just have taste.”

At that moment, Jim entered, carrying a box of replacement bulbs for the overhead lights. He paused, taking in the scene with a bemused expression. “Wow, it’s like the North Pole and a garage sale had a baby.”

“Thank you!” Shannon exclaimed, gesturing to Jim as if he were her personal champion. “Finally, someone with sense.”

Jim chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s kind of charming. But maybe tone it down a notch before Shannon burns it all down.”

Anna grinned wickedly and held up a Santa hat. “Oh, I know what Shannon needs. This will fix everything.”

Shannon stared at the hat as if it were a venomous snake. “Don’t even think about it.”

Before she could protest further, Anna plopped the hat onto Shannon’s head and adjusted it. Melanie clapped her hands in delight. “Perfect! You look so festive now!”

Shannon sighed, pulling the hat off and tossing it onto the table. “You’re all insufferable.”

“Grinch,” Jim teased, giving her a wink.

Shannon pointed a finger at him. “Careful. You’re dangerously close to losing points, Jim.”

“Noted,” he replied with a smirk.

Anna, clearly delighted by Shannon’s exasperation, turned to Melanie. “So, what’s on the docket today?”

Melanie grabbed a file from the counter and flipped it open. “Let’s see… our client is a movie producer. Specifically, the kind who churns out those Christmas movies Shannon loves so much.”

Shannon groaned. “Of course. Just my luck.”

Anna’s eyes lit up. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

Melanie skimmed the file. “Apparently, they’re infamous for being a nightmare to work with. Treats the cast and crew like garbage, insists on every cliché in the book, and has no respect for anyone’s creative vision. Sounds like a real gem.”

Shannon rolled her eyes. “Fantastic. Let’s teach this Scrooge a lesson.”

The door to the transformation room opened, and Anna wheeled in the client. He was a middle-aged man in an expensive suit, his perfectly styled hair slicked back with precision. He wore an air of self-importance that practically screamed “Hollywood.”

“Ah,” he said, glancing around the room with disdain. “So, this is where the magic happens? Doesn’t look like much.”

Shannon folded her arms, unimpressed. “And you must be our very own Scrooge. Welcome to your intervention.”

The producer raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. “Intervention? Cute. I don’t need an intervention. I’m making art.”

“Art?” Shannon snorted. “Is that what you call those cookie-cutter holiday cash grabs you churn out every year?”

The producer shrugged. “People love them. They make money. What’s the problem?”

“The problem,” Melanie interjected, stepping forward, “is that you treat your crews like dirt and perpetuate every tired stereotype in the book. You’re turning Christmas into a formula, not a celebration.”

The producer rolled his eyes. “Spare me the lecture. You’re just jealous you’re not the one making the big bucks.”

Anna laughed. “Oh, this is going to be good.”

Shannon stepped up to the control panel, a gleam in her eye. “Alright, Mr. Holiday Spirit, let’s see how you like being part of the story for a change.”

The transformation machine whirred to life, surrounding the producer—Brad—with a soft pink glow. He lounged in the chair, his smug expression firmly in place despite the situation. "You really think you can scare me with this? I’m untouchable. I make magic happen. Without me, Christmas doesn’t exist on TV."

Shannon snorted, leaning against the console as she adjusted a few settings. "Oh, don’t worry, Brad. We’re not taking your magic away. We’re just giving you a starring role in a new production."

Brad's smirk faltered slightly as he glanced between Shannon, Melanie, and Anna, who were all watching him like hawks. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Melanie began, grinning, "you’re about to experience what it’s like to be the lowest rung on the ladder. And not just in a professional sense. Oh no, this is a full-body and full-life adjustment."

Before Brad could retort, the pink glow intensified, and a strange sensation rippled through his body. He stiffened, his confident smirk replaced by a look of alarm. "W-what’s happening? I feel... weird."

"That’s just the first phase," Shannon said casually, tapping a button. "Say goodbye to your manhood, Brad."

His eyes widened in panic. "Wait, what? You can’t—"

"Oh, we can," Anna chimed in, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "And we will. Wave bye-bye to your little director down there. Trust me, you won’t be needing it where you’re going."

Brad struggled against the restraints, his bravado cracking as he felt a sharp tingling sensation below his waist. His face flushed as he realized what was happening. "No, no, no! You can’t do this! I need that!"

Shannon raised an eyebrow. "Need it? For what? You’re not exactly using it responsibly. Maybe this new arrangement will give you a chance to reflect."

Anna leaned in, wiggling her fingers playfully in Brad’s direction. "Bye-bye, little Brad. We hardly knew you!"

Brad’s body jerked as the changes took hold, his eyes wide with panic. "Oh God, it’s—it’s shrinking! Stop this! Please!"

"Why stop now?" Melanie said, grinning as she watched the transformation. "We’re just getting started."

His voice cracked as the transformation progressed, the masculine timbre giving way to a softer, higher pitch. His frame began to shrink, his shoulders narrowing and his torso becoming slender. His once broad chest softened, and his arms and legs slimmed down to delicate proportions.

"No! I can’t—I’m not supposed to look like this!" Brad stammered, his voice now unmistakably feminine. "I’m a man! I’m powerful! I’m—"

"Not anymore," Shannon interrupted, her tone laced with mockery. "Powerful people don’t need training bras, Brad."

Brad’s chest began to swell, and his hands flew to the burgeoning mounds on his chest. "What the hell is—oh my God! They’re growing! Stop this!"

"Sorry" Shannon snickered, "looks like you've blown through training and right on to 'C' Country but you still don't look that powerful kitten"

"Let me help you focus on your new reality," Mel said cheerfully. She reached over and gave his newly forming breasts a light jiggle, causing Brad to gasp in horror. "Look at that! Jiggly and perky. Perfect for a low-budget set."

Brad’s face turned crimson as he stared down at himself, his trembling hands still on his chest. "You’re sick! All of you!"

Melanie laughed still bouncing his...or was it her now...jiggly bits and brad involutarily moaned. "Sick? Oh, sweetheart, we’re just making sure you fully understand the depth of your new situation. How does it feel to finally have to pay attention to something other than your ego?"

As Brad’s transformation continued, his hips widened, his waist cinched in, and his legs became shapely and feminine. His hair darkened and grew longer, cascading down his back in glossy waves. His facial features softened, becoming delicate and doll-like.

Anna smirked and leaned closer. "Hey, Brad—oh wait, sorry, what’s the opposite of Brad? Brenda? Nah. How about… Holly? Yeah, that suits you. Holly, you look great. Very... approachable."

Brad—now Holly—stared in horror at her reflection in the nearby monitor. Her jaw dropped as she took in her petite, curvaceous form, her once commanding presence reduced to someone who wouldn’t even stand out in a crowd.

Holly sat stiffly in the chair, her hands gripping the armrests as if holding on for dear life. The lab coat draped over her was no comfort; it felt like a flimsy shield against the reality she was being forced to confront.

Melanie approached with a small, sterile instrument in hand, her expression both clinical and amused. "Alright, Holly, last test. We just need to make sure everything is... functional."

Holly's eyes widened in alarm. "You can’t be serious. I—there’s no way—"

Shannon leaned casually against the counter, her voice steady but unrelenting. "This is part of the deal, Holly. You’re new to all this, and we wouldn’t want you to be caught off guard later. Consider it... educational."

Holly’s protests died in her throat as Melanie knelt beside her. The cold, smooth instrument touched her, and she froze, her body betraying her. It slipped inside effortlessly, and she gasped, the sensation foreign and strange. It didn’t hurt; there was no resistance, just an overwhelming realization of how open she was now.

Her hands gripped the chair harder, her knuckles white. "I can’t... stop it," she whispered, her voice trembling. "It’s just... there’s nothing stopping it."

"Nope," Melanie said cheerfully, adjusting the instrument slightly. "You’re wide open now, Holly. And that’s something you’ll have to get used to. Life’s a little different when you’re not the one in control, huh?"

Holly’s breath hitched as she felt the object move, smooth and deliberate, the sensation impossible to ignore. Her body, small and unfamiliar, accepted it without hesitation, and the thought sent a shiver down her spine. If something so foreign could enter so easily, what else could happen? What else could fit?

Melanie stepped back, pulling off her gloves with a snap. "There we go. Everything’s working perfectly. You’re good to go."

Holly stared straight ahead, her face pale and her hands trembling in her lap. "I feel... exposed," she murmured. "Like there’s nothing protecting me anymore."

Shannon smirked, leaning in slightly. "That’s because there isn’t, Holly. Welcome to being small and vulnerable. It’s a whole new world, isn’t it?"

"You monsters!" she hissed, her voice soft and trembling. "You’ve ruined me!"

"Ruined?" Shannon raised an eyebrow. "Oh no, we’re setting you up for a brand-new life. Speaking of which..." She pulled out a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and handed them to Holly. "Here. You’ll need these. Your new vision isn’t exactly star material."

Holly hesitated, her eyes narrowing. "What do you mean? Did you make me blind?"

"Blind? No," Melanie said, rolling her eyes. "We just made your eyesight... shall we say... less leading-lady material."

Holly reluctantly put on the glasses, only to groan as the world came into focus. "You’ve got to be kidding me. I look like a nerd!"

Shannon smirked. "Good. You’ll fit right in as the intern no one remembers. Speaking of fitting in, why don’t you try these on?" She held up a pair of ridiculously high heels and placed them in front of Holly. "Let’s see if you can walk the walk."

Holly stared at the heels as if they were weapons of mass destruction. "You expect me to wear those? I can barely stand!"

"Exactly," Anna said, grinning. "Consider it practice for your new life. Now, go fetch us some coffee."

"Coffee?" Holly repeated, her voice trembling with disbelief. "You’re making me get coffee?"

"Of course," Shannon said, her tone dripping with mock sweetness. "You’re an intern now. That’s what interns do. And hey, maybe if you do a good job, we’ll consider... oh, who am I kidding? You’re stuck like this."

Holly’s eyes widened in horror. "You’re lying!"

Anna laughed. "Sweetheart, the only lying happening here is the one you’ll be doing in your tiny twin bed after a long day of being ignored and overworked. Now go get the coffee."

Holly wobbled as she tried to stand in the heels, her movements clumsy and unsteady. She stumbled toward the coffee machine, each step a humiliating reminder of her new body’s unfamiliarity.

As she reached the counter, Melanie called out, "Oh, and don’t forget the cream and sugar! We like it just right."

Holly’s hands shook as she poured the coffee, spilling a few drops onto the counter. She turned back to the group, her eyes pleading. "Please. You can’t leave me like this."

Shannon approached her, her expression stern. "Oh, but we can. And we will. Enjoy your new life, Holly. And don’t worry—everyone on set will know exactly who you were. I mean who do you think sent you to us?"

Melanie leaned over, her grin wicked. "Merry Christmas, Holly. Hope you like your starring role... as an extra."

Holly’s lips trembled as tears welled in her eyes. For the first time, she truly understood what had been taken from her—and what she’d become.

Holly shuffled off in her wobbly heels, guided reluctantly by Anna toward the changing area. Melanie sighed dramatically, brushing fake snow off the console. "Well, that was fun. I don’t know about you all, but I think she’s going to be the perfect little intern. Can’t wait for the coffee runs."

Shannon rolled her eyes, but a small smirk played on her lips. "She’ll trip over herself trying to walk in those heels. You really went overboard with that last bit."

"Come on, you know you loved it," Anna chimed in as she plopped into a chair, spinning around lazily. "It’s the gift that keeps on giving. Every time she hears her new name on set, she’s going to die a little inside."

Jim stepped back into the room, dusting his hands off after fixing one of the consoles. His calm demeanor and steady presence seemed to immediately ground the room. He looked at Shannon with a quiet smile, holding a small box wrapped in simple brown paper with a red ribbon.

Shannon noticed him out of the corner of her eye and frowned slightly. "What’s that?"

Jim stepped closer, his expression earnest. "It’s for you. Mel and I thought you could use something a little more meaningful this Christmas."

Shannon raised an eyebrow, her arms crossing defensively. "You two have been up to something, haven’t you?"

Melanie grinned, walking up to stand beside Jim. "Only in the best way. Open it."

Shannon hesitated for a moment before taking the box. It was light but felt solid in her hands. She carefully pulled the ribbon loose, her movements uncharacteristically tentative. The paper fell away, revealing a plain wooden box with a small latch. Shannon looked up at them, her brow furrowed.

"What is this?"

Jim nodded at the box. "Just open it."

Shannon flipped the latch and lifted the lid. Inside was a perfectly preserved ornament, handmade from delicate glass, shaped like a snowflake. The craftsmanship was exquisite, with intricate etchings that caught the light. Shannon’s breath caught as she picked it up, her fingers brushing over the fine details.

But it wasn’t just the ornament that caught her attention. Beneath it, nestled in the box, was a small photograph. It showed a young Shannon, no older than ten, standing next to a modest Christmas tree. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she wore an oversized sweater that looked like it had been handed down a few times. In her hands, she held a similar ornament, her smile bright and genuine.

Shannon blinked, her usual composure cracking. "How... where did you get this?"

Melanie spoke softly, her grin replaced by something warmer. "I may have called in a favor. Anna tracked down a few old records, and Jim helped restore the photo. We thought it might mean something to you."

Shannon stared at the photograph, her throat tightening. "This... this was my favorite ornament. We didn’t have much growing up, but my mom used to pull this out every year. It was the one thing that made it feel like Christmas, no matter how tough things got."

Jim smiled gently. "We know you’re not big on clutter and decorations, but we figured this wasn’t just clutter. It’s a piece of your history."

Shannon swallowed hard, the lump in her throat making it difficult to speak. "I thought this was gone. After everything... I never thought I’d see it again."

Melanie stepped closer, placing a hand on Shannon’s shoulder. "Merry Christmas, Shannon. You deserve a little magic too, you know."

For a long moment, Shannon didn’t say anything. She just stared at the ornament and the photograph, her fingers trembling slightly as she held them. Finally, she looked up, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "This... this actually means a lot."

Jim chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. "We figured. And hey, now you can’t say we never give good gifts."

Shannon let out a shaky laugh, wiping at her eyes. "Okay, fine. You win. This is better than a coffee mug."

Melanie grinned. "Told you it would be. Now, are you going to hang that up, or do we need to wrestle you for it?"

Shannon shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "No, I think I’ll keep it safe. But... maybe I’ll let it make an appearance next year. Just this once."

Anna burst into the room, her arms full of even more tangled Christmas lights. "What’d I miss? Oh, is that a snowflake ornament? It’s cute. Want me to hang it up?"

Shannon shot her a mock glare, holding the box protectively. "Don’t even think about it."

The room erupted into laughter, and for once, Shannon didn’t mind the chaos. As they gathered around, joking and teasing one another, the warmth of the moment settled over her. It wasn’t a perfect Christmas, but it was hers. And for the first time in a long time, that felt like enough.