"Thank you for coming, Mr. Donaldson," said the principal, shaking Vanessa's hairy, masculine hand.
"Uh huh," replied Vanessa. "What'd she do this time?"
"Fighting again," said the principal. "She beat up two other girls and a boy. She also has been making sexual advances on many of the other girls. Now, we have no problem with Megan being a lesbian. But sexual harassment is another thing. We cannot tolerate that or her aggressively violent behavior towards the other students."
"So whaddya want me to do about it?" asked Vanessa, smacking her gum.
"It's time we talk reform school," said the principal. "Megan is incorrigible. Either I will have to expel her, or I can pull some strings and get her admitted to a reputable girls reform school. It is a private institution, however. So you will have to pay the tuition..."
"Yeah, I got lots of money," answered Vanessa. "A big insurance settlement after my old lady and son disappeared."
"You have my condolences," replied the principal, clearly confused by the lack of emotion being displayed by 'Steve.'
"Go ahead and do whatever you have to do to sent the little brat away," said Vanessa. "I'll pay for it all. Just get me the papers and stuff. I'll sign whatever."
* * *
"Well, I think we've discovered the reason you've been throwing up in the mornings," said the doctor. "Congratulations, miss. You're going to be mother."
"Ohmigod," said Steve, suddenly lunging for the garbage can in the doctor's office. "I think I'm going to be sick again!"
"I take it this was unexpected?" asked the doctor.
"Yeah," mumbled Steve, wiping vomit from his chin with a tissue. "You could say that."
"If it's not too forward for me to ask," said the doctor. "Do you know who the father is?"
Steve stared blankly into space remembered the many men he'd had sex with. Vanessa's body had an insatiable thirst for sexual encounters with strange men. Steve had never been strong enough to resist the urges. There had been nights where he'd done 6 or 8 guys in quick succession.
"No," Steve finally answered in a shamed whisper. "I have no idea."
"For the sake of your baby," said the doctor. "I recommend you make some immediate changes to your lifestyle."
"I'll try," answered Steve.
Since the swap, he'd been unable to hold a normal job. Vanessa was a high school drop-out with few skills and no work experience. Steve had been forced to turn tricks in order to survive. The abnormal hormone levels in Vanessa's bloodstream elevated his libido to the point where Steve actually enjoyed making money this way. To give up this life would be almost impossible for him, both economically and emotionally.
* * *
Janet sniffed the air cautiously.
One of the female chimpanzees would soon be ready for mating.
Janet knew she wouldn't be able to fight the urges. In her male, chimpanzee body she now had all the same urges as Bobo the chimp had.
In another day, maybe two at most, Janet would be squawking and aggressively fighting the other males for the chance to mate with the best females.
The first couple times she had struggled in vain to resist the hot blooded, primeval urges. That mental distraction had cost her. By the time she surrendered to her animal desires, the other male chimpanzees were already pretty aggressive. She'd gotten pretty badly bruised those times, and had to limp away frustrated.
By now, Janet had surrendered to the fact that she would likely spend the rest of her days as a smelly, hairy, male animal trapped behind bars in zoo cage. As humiliating as it was, Janet tried to make the most of the situation, using what remained of her superior, human intellect to outsmart the other chimps at things like getting the choicest bananas or mating with the best females.
Janet now existed day-by-day, in a simple, animal survival mode. She had completely lost track of the time and hadn't the foggiest notion of how long she had been trapped in Bobo's body.
* * *
"It will help if you wear some makeup," said the lawyer. "Just a little lipstick and some eyeshadow."
"I'll look like an idiot!" moaned Megan in a low, gravelly voice.
"Not at all Mister Scarborough," replied the lawyer. "It'll go a long way towards convincing the judge of your sincerity, that you really are mentally unbalanced and have multiple personalities."
"Not multiple personalities!" snapped Megan. She banged her hairy, manacled arms on the table. The handcuffs around her wrists jangled sharply in the air. "Just one personality. I'm a girl! I'm 12, no wait, I should be 13 by now, and..."
"You don't need to convince me," interrupted the lawyer. "I'm your attorney. But if we're going to convince the judge of your incapacity to aid in your own defense..."
"I didn't do anything!" sobbed Megan. "I'm not this criminal everyone thinks I am. And now I'm going to get executed for a bunch of murders I didn't commit!"
"Don't give up hope," said the lawyer. "I think I can get you committed to a mental institution. You'll probably be there for the rest of your life, but it's better than death row."
"I don't deserve this," cried Megan.
"And even if the judge denies our request," continued the lawyer. "We can strike a deal with the prosecution. I think they'll work out a plea agreement where they take the death penalty off the table in exchange for you pleading guilty and agreeing to a life sentence."
"Not fair!" cried Megan, noisily banging her big, meaty fists on the table.
* * *
Alan smoothed the wrinkles from his dress and stared out the window into a sunny garden just outside the hospital grounds.
A smiling nurse entered carrying a hospital tray.
"Good morning, Mrs. Von Strasser!" she said.
Alan glanced up, a look of perplexed confusion on his face.
"Ma'am?" said the nurse. "Are you with us today?"
"I'm not Esther," said Alan in the creaky, hoarse voice of a 97 year old woman.
"Oh, dear," sighed the nurse. "I'll have to speak with the doctor about adjusting your medications again. I really thought we were making progress."
Alan frowned at the nurse but said nothing.
"Speaking of your medication," said the nurse. "I've brought your pills here with your breakfast. Please be a good patient. Don't fight with me today."
Alan grimaced and shook his wrinkled, old head.
"Do I need to go get the orderlies to hold you down?" asked the nurse.
Reluctantly, Alan opened his toothless, old mouth and swallowed his Alzheimer’s medication.
"Very good," smiled the nurse.
A thin trickle of drool rolled down Alan's chin.
The nurse wiped it away, and Alan went back to staring out the hospital window at the sunny garden beyond.
* * *
In a remote, underground laboratory, a proximity alarm began chirping.
An athletic looking teenage boy wearing a pink, polka-dotted dress spoke up: "Victor, dear. I think we have visitors."
"I'm busy with an experiment, mother," came the irritated voice of Professor Von Strasser from the next room. "Are you quite certain someone is there? This isn't another of your episodes, is it?"
"You never believe in your own mother!" huffed the boy. "I take my medication every morning. It's done wonders for me. My mind is just as sharp as it was 80 years ago..."
"Then why do you insist on dressing that way?" asked the professor, now entering the control room. "You really must adapt to your new roles."
"I'm still your mother!" snapped the boy. "And I'm still a woman. I may be stuck with this strange boy's body, but I know who I am!"
"Mother, the medication has helped you," replied the professor. "But you do still have 'episodes,' and the cross-dressing behavior is... hmm, it seems you were right after all. We do have visitors. Trespassers, just outside the gate. Janet, would you come in here?"
From the next room, a naked, fat woman lumbered in, her cellulite thighs and flabby breasts jiggling wildly as she walked. There was something unusual about her movement as well. She crouched a bit while she walked, with her knees bent low and her legs stretched out a bit too wide.
"What am I going to do with you both?" sighed the professor. "One of you won't wear appropriate clothes, the other won't wear clothes at all! Unless the two of you can adapt, I shall never be able to take either of you out in public."
"Sowwy," said 'Janet' in a dull monotone and flashing her teeth like a monkey. "I no wike cwothes. They ma-ma-make me twip and faw down."
"You must practice your speech as well," said the professor. "You've made great stride, 'Janet.' But you would still arise too much suspicion out in public like this. Now go get dressed at once. We have guests. And mother..."
"I'm not changing," said the teenage boy, stamping his high-heeled foot for emphasis. "I am your mother, Victor. You don't give the orders around here!"
"Yes, yes," grumbled the professor. "Have it your way. The interlopers are at the gate. I'll be back shortly."
Upstairs, a group of unsuspecting victims were just entering the professor's house, seeking shelter from a storm...
The End?