"Weekend at Bernie's Protocol complete!" chimed the Autocloset.
The Autocloset doors snapped open, and his former body tumbled out. He'd been waiting to catch it with blue arms outstretched but, as the 61% of his excised body tissues timbered towards his petite body, he thought better of it, and nimbly dodged to the side with a deft grace he'd never dreamed of possessing. His old male flesh hit the ground with a boneless slap, arms and legs ragdolling, and lay there.
It wasn't really a person. The Autocloset had merely shaped his offcut meat into a crude flesh-puppet, composed almost entirely of fat and a little cartilage to give it shape, and just enough muscle and nerve to form a basic breathing apparatus to keep it oxygenated and fresh. Lastly the Autocloset had wrapped the whole thing in pimply, sun-starved synthskin to mimic his appearance.
Externally the effect was convincing. The moment he picked his doppelganger, it became readily apparent what a shapeless lump it really was. It jiggled and deformed like a bag of jello, squishing through his grip. Maybe he could afford to lose a few pounds, he conceded, grunting from exertion as he hauled his carcass across the house, occasionally thudding its skull-less head off the walls.
His wife still slept soundly as he crept into the bedroom. He laid the flesh puppet in the divot on his side of the bed and pulled the duvet up to its chin, barely suppressing his gleeful giggles.
The perfect crime! Perhaps his wife would find him a little... sluggish, but it wasn't as if he did much more than lay around at the weekend anyway. Meanwhile he'd be free to indulge his nerdy self at Comic Con without her. And with this body he'd be the center of attention.
The sight of his thick asari ass caught his eye in the bedroom mirror.

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