"You said you'd get my fiancé in shape. What the hell do you call this?"

"Peak performance, bro, look it up. If you don't like it, that's your problem."

"Oh no, it's yours. Anya's going to murder you when she sees what you've done to her body."

"With those sissy arms? She's really let me waste away without me. It practically looks like a girl's body."

"You mean after she flushed all the steroids out of it? No wonder. It turns out your atrophied junk barely even makes testosterone anymore."

"Ugh, it's going to take me years to de-sissify the old me. So, when's the appointment at the Swap Clinic?"

"You're joking, right? The wedding's in three months. There's no way that body is fitting the wedding dress, and you think I want my wife-to-be carrying me down the aisle? Hell no, you're staying in there until my fiancé stops looking like the Hulk. I'll just have to marry her in your body."

"Dude, but that's me, your big bro."

"Nothing a little renovation can't fix. A couple of implants, and your body is no stranger to artificial hormones. Besides, like you said, she's practically a girl already. After the wedding night, I'll make her a real woman."