It has been posted! Continue rejoicing, thine brothers! Continueeth unabated by my posting of thine story!
Chill awoke in what could be properly and with no reservations called a stupor. He got up out of bed, and already he could feel as though he was needing to carry himself differently. At first he thought he had put on weight, put when he froze up a quick mirror, he realized it was deeper than that.
She needed room to let the steam run off. He looked around the area, checking to make sure everything was in order, then he realized she was missing something. something . . . important. Slipping on anothe sweatshirt, Chill ran out into the armor stores to procure some proper female stuff.
"Okay, all I'm getting are girl shirts, girl pants, and- OMIGOSH OMIGOSH LOOK AT THSE SHOES" she ran over to the window, her eyes almost busting down the window with their covetous stare. He didn't know why. But she couldn't peel her eyes away. She had been rabidly fixated on a pair of shoes on display in a window that were multiple sizes too small for him.
Shaking her head, he continued onward. First stopping into a gneral store, she bought two pink pens and a pad of stationery the size of a shopping list - perfect! Now she could list all the stuff he wanted to buy.
Soon after, she found himself running back to the store to buy three more pads of paper, another pen (her first had already run out of ink) and a team of native bearers to carry all his stuff. Exiting the store, she led them out to the armor forest (she had also hired some armed guards, because she didn't trust the bearers with a girl alone in a forest) and took an inventory. In about four hours, Gail had bought:
47758 assorted pieces or sets of jewelry
1864311 pairs of shoes
239,000 gallons of ice cream
3650 scarves, one for each day in the year for the next millenium
76,000,000 posters of Edward Cullen
13,400 armed guards, complete with automatic rifles and hand grenades
974,000,000,000 native bearers to carry all the crap she bought
Looking around, she smiled and winked. "Everything's heee-eere," she chimed, closing her eyes and tilting her head in a stereotypical gesture of brattish contentment. So she led the fleet to her house, and dropped off the first round of stuff in a large underground warehouse she had had built earlier. Loading trucks were coming and going, and her very own combination of a wind farm and a photovoltaic field was providing power.
"Green is postmodern AND in!" is what she provided as her reason to the contractors.
A man wearing a hard hat (he was presumably in the shoe or the jewelry department, where small objects were prone to fall) and greeted him.
"Ma'am," he said, "There's a bit of a problem. WE're out of storage space, and there're still loading trucks coming in. What're your orders?"
Gail froze, visibly terrified. She started to tear up, before her eyes completely dried up and she began to get very angry.
"You know what? I think Zoph dropped the F-bomb a bit too early."
The man was perplexed.
"Why do I think this? Because even after that thing swept the entire god-d*** kingdom and totally flipped the chick-to-d**k ratio, there are still stupid, idiotic MEN coming in to this place every day who CAN'T. SOLVE. CRAP. ON THEIR. OWN! She began to perspire napalm (the gender change had also flipped the temperature change she controlled, so she was now sweating napalm instead of liquid nitrogen when angry) and the man was crying and trembling in terror.
"M-m-m-m-ma'a-a-a-a-a-m-m-m-m-m . . . s-s-s-sorryy . . . ." he whimpered.
Instantly Gail saw what he had said, and she began to weep. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you! IT's just that-that-that people always assume that because I'm a girl in the internet, I spend all my time looking up porn and pictures of puppies over the web! It's painful, yaknow?" Her tears began to steam off her face, vaporizing a nearby fly.
"Ma'am, what do you want me to do with the extra shipments?" The man asked, vexed.
"Hold 'em up, and send in some more helicopters to build another warehouse to put the new stuff in. I'm so sorry," she said, hugging the man and running away back to her house to get more money.
She was about to turn into the mall hwen she saw a man pitching something. Her interest piqued, she strolled over to see what he was talking about.
"Come one, come all, to Hectichermit's alchemy staaaaaaand! Special treatments today for the effects of the recent f-bomb! Mysterious potions that will correct all your genderial mutations in one sip! Sa-tep right up and try some for yourself, risk-free or your money and your life back!" The man smiled, and a quick sparkle illuminated his teeth as if the entire world was an infomercial and he was the pitchman.
Of course, Gail was transfixed, and pushed through the crowd to speak with him.
"Hello young lady, I do believe there's a line but you have a lot of money with you so I am kindly disregarding that! What are you searching for, today? Cure for the f-bomb, or maybe-"
"Yes, that's exactly it!"
"Then try this!"
"What's in it?"
"Triboron oxide, unonoctide, Nitrogen Strontide, aspartame, saccharine, guarana, mangosteen, liquefied moon rock, a dash of cinnamon, senna, some space-grade polymers, xanthan gum, soy lecithin, tree rosin, shea butter, naga jolokia, eup-
"DID YOU SAY SHEA BUTTER???????!?!?!?/!1?1/1//1///1/!//1!/1//1??!?!?!?!?!?!?!/1/!!/1/!/!/1//!?" Gail yelled.
"Yes, I! doooooo believe I diiid . . . .
"How is this stuff ingested?"
"It's drank straight."
"What does it taste like?"
"Like the sap and leaf of a spurge with some citrusy sweetness and a hint of unstable radioactivity to it. Did I mention that it's the leading example of how a dangerous neurotoxin can be extremely beneficial?"
"It sounds professional. I'll buy a bottle."
"That'll be . . . how much money do you have there?"
"Four dollars," Gail lied.
"Four dollars it is then!"
Gail took four dollars into her hand and gave it to the man. She had the rest of her money hidden, and for good reason.
She took the bottle in hand, closed her eyes, got some water, swallowed an extremely powerful sedative (the last ingredient of the drink was euphorbia sap, which contains a neurotoxin that causes a capsaicin-like heat sensation that scores a 16 billion on the Scoville heat unit scale. To put this in perspective, habanero peppers score a 350,000 on average.) and then chugged the entire thing.
The burn got through the sedative. She could feel the sap inside of her, burning up her stomach. She rushed to the restroom, where she remained for over 48 hours. Luckily, the guarana present in the drink kept her awake. And the mangosteen and rthe radioactive chemicals (strontium-90, ununoctium, etc.) kept her breath fresh.
Gail lost her memory for a few days, and woke up with a note taped to her forehead. It read "all 377 warehouses full. All of the legal and for-use underground property has been used up. You now own over 804 trillion retail items, and owe 3 quadrillion dollars to the industries of armorgames, which are now all filing for chapter 11 bankruptcy due to lack of inventory. Included in the stock of warehouse 274 are 460,000 money printing machines, of which it is advised you put to use.
After reading the note, she immediately got 5 dollars, went down to the bookstore, bought the entire writing catalogue of Norah Jones, and went home and began reading. All she knew after the potion debacle was that she was most certainly not cured of her femality, and just how dangerous a female version of her would be. Ending this on an emoish note, she spent the next three hours writing poetry, crying and drawing frowny faces on her forehead with the last remaining ounce of naturally occurring astatine.
