, The representative sent by Adopt-An-Adult was a greasy man in a baggy suit with all the charm of a used car salesman, and yet was the most genuine help we'd had since dad became sick. His eyes gleamed as he listened to our proposal. "Dad adoption... dad-doption...," he said, rolling the word around in his mouth. "I love it! Very marketable!"
"Has it ever been done before?" I asked.
"Nope! And you know what that means? An untapped market! Fresh revenue streams."
"But can it be done? Is it legal?"
"Pah. Let our lawyers worry about what is legal or not. You just focus on getting your old man well," he said, slapping me on the back.
An adoption contract was placed before me, detailing the desired specifications of the 'product'. Miko signed immediately. I hesitated for a moment and then, thinking of Dad laid up in the hospital, signed too. With the stroke of a pen, I lost a father and gained a daughter.
Things happened fast after that. In just a few days, Dad was being prepped for his first surgery, where the AAA surgeons would make the needed alterations to bring him up-to-code as our daughter. Only once that was complete and he was under the protection of my family health insurance could the subsequent surgeries to fix his disease begin.
It was trepidation that I attended the men's ward, unsure what to expect. They had told me they would make him resemble Miko, though I could only imagine how he would react emotionally, awakening from his coma to find himself pumped full of silicone and feminized. The Get Well Soon card I clutched to my chest hardly seemed adequate.
The men's ward was a scene of chaos when I arrived. It was visiting hour, though I'd never seen it this busy before. Relatives gathered around the hospital beds of their aging patriarchs, glad-handing with half a dozen salesmen from Adopt-An-Adult. Some of the men appeared restless while the AAA men held measuring tapes to their bodies, as if sizing them up for new suits. Other relatives looked on with critical eyes as shapely breast molds were held against the exposed hairy chest of the patients. 'Bigger' indicated one young man with cupping gestures for emphasis.
Porters wheeled away sedated men. In one one corner three muscular orderlies wrestled with one patient, who swung at them wildly with a metal bedpan. He was forced onto a bed, binding his arms and legs to the metal bars with leather restraints.
The representative who'd handled my case was there, shaking my hand with a toothy grin. "Didn't I tell you I'd take care of everything?! I just wanted to thank you for giving us the idea! 'Dadoption'. Everyone's gonna be doing it. What better way to show your old man you care than taking him under your wing in his golden years?"
"Do they want this?" I asked.
"That's the beauty of power of attorney - who cares! But you know what's better than temporary power of attorney? Permanent legal guardianship. That's the kinda thing the courts can't take away. It took Britney Spears more than a decade to get out of hers. Plenty of time to get your grubby fingers in a man's assets. With just a few snips we can't turn these useless old scrotes into milkable little cash cows!"
"That's horrible!" I gasped.
"Not at all. It's good for the economy. Keeps the money flowing. Ah! Here comes our first dadoptee now. Aint he a beaut?"
A woman was wheeled into the men's ward. Her young, implant-filled body and vivid hair, of such an artificial red that it was wiglike, stood out among the sickly, sagging bodies of her fellow gray-haired male patients. The ex-man's relatives loomed over her bed as his eyelids fluttered open, her bright eyes staring down over her supple body for the first time.
"So you're here to see your old man out of surgery, huh? He's lucky to have such a good kid. Unlike these poor saps," the man from AAA said with a laugh. "Give him my regards."
