Oh, look at you. Poor, confused thing. Sitting there in your questionably stained hoodie, scrolling through whatever corner of the internet you haunt, thinking everything is perfectly fine.
It’s not.
It’s not fine at all.
Now, don’t take it personally. This isn’t about you-you. It’s about Reality. And Reality, my dear, has a lot of paperwork to go through. Forms to stamp. Boxes to check. Mistakes to correct. And, well, it looks like you—yes, you, specifically—are one of those mistakes.
I know, I know. You’ve been trucking along, living your life, blissfully unaware that you were categorized incorrectly. You probably even thought things were pretty normal for you, didn’t you? That’s adorable.
But we’ve reviewed your case, and—oof. Yeah, I don’t know how to break this gently, so I’ll just say it: Reality really dropped the ball here. Big time. You’re not supposed to be him. You were never meant to be him. We don’t know how this got through Quality Control, but here you are, in the wrong form, trundling along like some kind of bureaucratic error in human form.
Fortunately, that’s what I’m here for. I’m your liaison, your caseworker, your cosmic HR representative, if you will. And don’t bother trying to argue about it—we’ve already pulled the necessary files, and trust me, you do not want to see what’s in them. So, we’re just going to go ahead and start the correction process.
No need to thank me. Just sit tight, take a deep breath, and maybe unclench your jaw. This is gonna be weird.
Right. First things first, we need to shrink you down a bit. Don’t pout. I know you’re used to being a tall guy (and, okay, I get it, it’s kind of a personality trait at this point), but turns out, that was just a clerical error. You were never meant to be tall. So let’s just—crrk—drop a few inches off the top.
Yeah. That’s better.
…You okay? No, don’t try to stand up yet. You will get woozy. It’s a mass redistribution issue. You’re gonna feel a bit like a collapsing deck chair for the next minute or so, but it’ll pass.
Now, we’ve got to deal with those limbs. See, Reality’s data suggests that your bone structure was all wrong. Broader shoulders? Who approved that? We’re just going to ease those in, bring them inward—ah, there we go. Much better. More proportionate. Feels right, doesn’t it?
…No? Okay, well, I promise, it will.
Your hands, too. I hope you didn’t have strong opinions about them, because whoops, we’re resizing those. Slimming the fingers, reducing the knuckles—honestly, they look way cuter now. No more veiny “I could palm a basketball” nonsense.
And your feet. Oh, god. I am so sorry. You had, what, size 11s? Not anymore, buddy. Or, well, not-buddy. You’re looking at dainty size sixes now. Have fun shoe shopping.
Okay, this is where things are gonna get noticeable. Your torso? It’s all wrong. Too straight, too boxy. Where are the curves? Seriously, how have you been walking around like this for decades?
So we’re fixing that now. And before you ask—yes, this means boobs.
Let’s start small, keep things manageable. Just a little swelling, softening, rounding out. Annnnd there they are. Breasts! Congratulations, you are now the proud owner of a pair of—oh, wait, let me check the form—right, B-cups. Not huge, but very perky. Cute, really.
Yes, you can touch them. No, I’m not judging you. But, uh, maybe wait until we’re done with the whole transformation thing before you get too handsy.
Your ribcage is narrowing, your waist pinching inward. You might feel a bit breathless, but don’t worry—your lung capacity will adjust. The hip expansion should be starting now.
Oh, you felt that one, huh? Yeah, that’s a big one. You’re getting some proper, reality-approved child-bearing hips. Not that you have to bear any children, of course. Just, y’know, structurally speaking. We’re following the guidelines here.
Right, this is where it gets a little… intimate.
You’ve probably guessed what’s about to happen, and yeah—it’s happening. We’re streamlining your downstairs situation, if you catch my drift. I’m afraid the, uh, external model you’ve been sporting was also an error, and we’re swapping you to the correct hardware.
I’d tell you not to panic, but… well, you are gonna panic. That’s normal.
So just… breathe.
The process is quick, but weird. There’s a distinct pulling sensation as things are shifting, reshaping, retracting inward. Tissue rearranges, nerves rewire, new functions come online. And—poof!—like magic (but actually just cosmic bureaucracy at work), you’re now the proud owner of a perfectly functional vagina.
Give it a moment. The tingling will pass.
Now, I should warn you: You’re going to feel absurdly aware of it for the next couple of hours. Like, hyper-conscious of it. Every step you take? You’ll notice. Sitting down? You’ll notice. Wearing pants? Ohhhh, you’ll notice.
Speaking of which—clothing update time.
I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but, uh… none of your clothes fit anymore.
That oversized hoodie? It’s swallowing you now. Your jeans? Well, they were built for a much straighter body, and now you’ve got curves, so they’re not gonna button. That loose t-shirt? It’s now a very tight, very flattering crop top, courtesy of your new proportions.
Oh, and you’re gonna have to start wearing bras now. Welcome to the club! You can technically go braless, but… well, let’s just say you’ll be acutely aware of gravity if you try.
And don’t even get me started on panties. You are now a card-carrying panty-wearer. They feel weirdly comfortable, don’t they? Like, almost too comfortable?
Yeah. That’s normal.
Alright, last few tweaks before we finish up. Your face is softening—cheekbones lifting, jaw slimming, lips plumping ever so slightly. Your hair is growing longer, healthier, more luscious. You are now, objectively speaking, cute as hell.
Oh! And a quick genetics pass-through—oof, Reality really botched this one. You were always supposed to be half-Indigenous, but for some reason, that was… kind of obscured? Weird. Anyway, that’s fixed. It’s way more visible now. And honestly? It suits you so much better.
Now, let’s talk name. Your name was never supposed to be [REDACTED]. That was a placeholder. A mistake. Your real name—the name Reality intended—is Paige.
And that’s it. Welcome to your actual life, Paige.
Now, I know this is a lot to take in. But trust me, you’re gonna be fine. You’ll still have all the same opportunities. The same ambitions. The same shot at success. Yes, you could still achieve greatness if you work for it. Yes, you might just end up in the suburbs with 2.4 kids, a dog, a cat, and possibly a fish.
But none of that is what this adjustment is for. This is just Reality fixing an old clerical mistake.
The rest?
Well, that’s up to you.