"Yeah baby!" Talisha grinned, squeezing the absurdly long nozzle of her new foreskin. "Dis new turtleneck be da fuckin' bomb! I'mma..." Talisha suddenly began coughing uncontrollably. "Sorry," she said. "Now, as I was saying, I'm... Wait, why do I sound like this?!"
Talisha's urban African-American accent and slang had completely vanished into nothingness. In its place were the almost musical cadences of an Indian accent.
"You aren't black anymore, Talisha," Circe explained. "You're Indian now. Your voice simply caught up to the rest of you. That won't be a problem, will it?"
"I won't lose my old memories or identity, will I?" Talisha asked cautiously.
"Only if you want to," Circe laughed. "I have spells that could erase your old life and rewrite it with a new past as an Indian girl with no memory of being Talisha, but you'd have to pay extra for that. It isn't a very popular service, funnily enough." The sorceress chuckled wryly at that last remark.
"It is a rather huge step," Talisha said, absent-mindedly playing with her dangly foreskin.
"Some suicidal people seem to like it, though," Circe observed. "A fresh start's much less bleak than their original plan, after all. Less messy, too."
"That's reasonable," Talisha shrugged, tugging her stretchy foreskin as far out as it could go.
"So, is this all you need, Talisha?" Circe asked. "If so, I must be going. Krystal probably needs my assistance to find the way to become the werewolf she was always destined to be. I doubt her fairy friends know much about the shop's layout any more than she does."