The suitcases were already outside the front door, awaiting the arrival of the taxi, as David walked up the garden path. Winslow had smelled him coming a mile away and was lying in wait, leaping up and snapping as David entered. His daughter-in-law, Reina, bounded into view, apologizing profusely as she seized the savage dog in a choke-hold and wrestled it away into its Autokennel. She slammed the steel kennel door shut. He could still hear the animal within, howling and clawing at the interior to get at him.

"I'm so sorry, Mr Johnson! You must have startled him. Winslow's always been nervous around men he doesn't recognize. He'll be fine once you're alone with him - he just needs a familiar face is all," she assured him breathlessly. "The trainer says it's a dominance thing. Honestly, he's just the perfect little angel whenever he's a female, you'll see"

She tapped the machine's 'Autocastrate' button and Winslow's rabid snarls quickly became a high-pitched yelp. There was the rattle of an ice cube as a set of freshly freeze-dried genitals dropped into the machine's organ output. Contrary to her assurances, the swift feminization had done nothing for the canine's temperament, as 'she' pounded harder against her cage. Reina peeked at David's bleeding hand.

"He just nipped you, huh? Just a love bite. Um, I'll go get you some gauze. I might have already packed the first aid kit though... Try to keep it elevated."

David's son appeared, Hawaiian-shirted and hauling the last of his wife's bags. He held up a hand, his new wedding ring buried beneath a dozen crisscrossing bandaids. "'Angel', my ass. That mutt's more like a hellhound," he grumbled under his breath. "I'd have it turned into the world's angriest gerbil if she'd let me. So, you regretting agreeing to be our skinsitter yet?"

David had regretted it since the moment Reina first broached the idea. They were off on their honeymoon and needed someone to look after their dog while away. The problem was that Winslow was uncontrollable to anyone except Reina. They were in need of a skinsitter; someone who could wear her face around the house to trick the animal into thinking its mistress was still home. All the licensed skinsitters had taken one look at Winslow and declined. David should have seen that as the warning it was. Alas, Reina had pleaded so earnestly with those big brown eyes - eyes that would soon be his- and he'd folded. After all, he could hardly leave his son and daughter-in-law in the lurch on their honeymoon.

At least when it bites my face off, it won't be my face, David thought darkly, but he gave a reassuring, "I'm sure it will be fine. You two have fun."

He scratched nervously at his greying stubble. His son laughed. "Reina's gonna be pissed that you didn't shave for her. I hope it isn't scratchy when I'm kissing her!"

Kissing?! David hadn't even thought of that! It amazed him how casually the younger generation talked about the skin transplanting devices when they'd been groundbreaking medical science just years ago.

Reina's AutoCosmetica was in the bedroom where a woman's makeup table might normally have stood, draped untidily with her clothing. It was an Autocloset, a scaled-up version of the AutoKennel Winslow was sealed inside. The central chamber looked unused, though the facial augmentation (a head-sized aperture on the side where the user could insert the face to be blasted with the high-tech equivalent of a makeup shotgun) was filthy with a waxy encrustation of skin-coloured foundation, and a little of what might have been blood. Was it too late to admit his crippling autosurgophobia? They'd pre-programmed the face transplant into the console and as he approached, the mirror-monitor detected him, displaying a digital 'After' image of the surgery as his reflection; Reina's youthful, pretty face stretched across his middle-aged skull.

"So do you want to get the operation started now, or should we wait for Reina to get back?" his son asked.

"Does it matter who goes first?"

"Not really," shrugged his son. "Only, whoever goes it first has to sit around as an eyeless, bleeding skull until the next person gives their face to the machine."

"Oh." David's knees trembled. "I, uh... I'm happy to wait."