Doug scowled. Kids these days, no respect! He tossed the empty trashcan back into its place on the ground and
headed for the teachers lounge. When he entered, it was empty, and there didn't seem to be anything for him to
do there, so he sat down in one of the chairs for a small break. That was when he noticed the rustle of paper
coming from his pocket. He sighed, and removing the offending slip of paper from his pocket, he moved to throw it
in the garbage - but something stopped him. Curious, he unfolded the paper, and noticed that it seemed to be a
questionnaire. "If You Were A Girl... Questionnaire" was written across the top.
Doug raised his eyebrow, wondering which student was playing a prank on him, and why there would even be a
questionnaire on the subject. Glancing around, he saw a plain blue pen sitting on a table, and decided to fill it out
anyway. It was an excuse to waste more time, and it was a subject he'd occasionally thought about.
Question 1: If you were a girl... would your handwriting be nice?
An odd question to start with, Doug thought. He didn't particularly care, and his own writing wasn't that bad,
though he preferred to print, so he scribbled 'Same' down and moved on.
Question 2: If you were a girl... would you like pink?
Doug snorted. Pink was a repulsive color, and he couldn't imagine why anyone would like it. He knew most girls
preferred it, though, so resisting the urge to write about how much he hated the color, he wrote 'Not particularly;
prefer light blue', as that seemed like a feminine color as well. Unnoticed by him, the blue pen, originally a darker
shade, lightened until it was almost white.
Question 3: If you were a girl... would your hair be straight or curly?
Doug much preferred straight, long hair on women, so he wrote 'Straight hair down to just below my shoulder
blades'. Long, but not abnormally so. His once-balding scalp tingled, and he reached up and scratched at it
absent-mindedly, already looking at the next question, when he noticed how long his hair actually was; in a few
seconds it had grown down to his back, and some of it was in his eyes! My hair's never been that long! Okay,
maybe the bangs, but not in the back! he thought, and then with a chill realized that his hair had grown to match
what he had written down. He stared at the questionnaire, and noticed the pen's color change as well; then he
glanced down at the rest of the questions, and noticed one of them had an age option. Then Doug smiled, and
realized he could re-invent his life with this magical slip of paper; Doug tried to be a firm believer in hard work, ever
since he had dropped out of high school when the work load had become too much for the lazy teenager he had
been. With this, he could start over from where he'd left off, and finish high school, and maybe college or university!
Doing so as a girl didn't seem like a bad trade. He looked at the next question.
Question 4: If you were a girl... would you wear high heels?
Ugh, no way, he thought; high heels seemed like a bad idea, and he didn't like the thought of learning to walk in
them, and the tripping that would result from it. He scribbled 'No,' intending to write something else down, but then
one of the interns walked in. Doug glanced up, and noticed the man staring at his long, feminine haircut. He
cleared his throat, and the man looked away and sat down at a table across the room, pulling out some paper or
other and getting to work on... something. He seemed to be trying hard to ignore Doug, rather than working on
anything in particular. Doug soon realized he'd need somewhere more private to change, though, so he got up and
went to the janitor's closet; it was more a small room than a closet, and he locked the door behind him. There, this
should be private enough. He sat down in an old, worn chair, and continued the questionnaire.
Question 5: If you were a girl... would you like ballet?
Doug frowned. He knew what he was getting into when he'd decided to finish the questionnaire, but his male ego
was offended by the question; he also knew that every little girl he'd met, either as a niece or when he was still in
school himself, had liked, or at least not hated, ballet. He couldn't bring himself to write 'yes', but managed a 'not
really', which was as close as was willing to go. Then he frowned, and read the question again; his earlier
hesitation seemed ridiculous, in hindsight. He shook his head, and moved on.
Question 6: If you were a girl... would you wear a skirt or dress?
If the last question had offended him, this one made his cheeks blush. He knew he'd have to get over it; they were
commonly worn by women of many ages, but he didn't like the idea of himself in one. Then he remembered he
wouldn't be a him, he would be a her, and, taking a deep breath, he wrote 'skirts, yes, dresses, preferably not', and
was immediately aware that his jeans suddenly didn't cover all of his legs - and were now, in fact, a knee-length
denim skirt. He gulped, and forced his eyes back to the paper.
Question 7: If you were a girl... would you wear jewelry?
This question didn't seem so bad. He thought about what the teenagers today would wear, and wrote down 'Yes,
some bracelets, and an ear piercing,' and immediately noticed a sharp pain in his ears. Glancing around, he saw a
grimy mirror, half hidden behind various cleaning supplies in a corner, and wiped it off. He brushed his hair back
(noticing the various bangles and bracelets around his wrist as he did so) and stared at the simple light blue
sphere poking through his ear, for a second, then turned back towards the paper.
Question 8: If you were a girl... what size would your breasts be?
He grinned. It was letting him choose? He thought for a second, and then wrote 'C-cup'. An involuntary yelp
emerged from his lips - noticeably higher-pitched than normal - as the fat on his chest surged forward, forming two
large bumps. He cupped them in his hands, and then blushed and hurriedly let go when he felt his new, still
sensitive breasts complain. Even as he looked down, his eyes were drawn back to the questionnaire - he picked it
up off the floor, where it had fallen, and proceeded to the next question.
Question 9: If you were a girl... what kind of underwear would you wear?
At this, Doug's mind went blank. He didn't know what kind of underwear women wore! By now, he just wanted to
get this over with, though, so he wrote 'bikini' and waited. His boxers seemed to melt underneath the skirt - an
unpleasant sensation, even more so when some of the material crawled up his skin, leaving goosebumps, and
settled around his new chest, forming a plain bra, similar in style to a bikini top, while the lower half formed a bikini
bottom, which didn't fit well on his still quite masculine body. Uncomfortable, Doug hurried to the next question:
Question 10: If you were a girl... would you prefer tampons or pads?
Doug knew what this question would do, and he welcomed the relief from the pain on his groin the underwear
caused. He barely read the question, once he knew what it was about, and quickly wrote down the first option. The
pain in his groin suddenly vanished, providing the welcome relief, as his penis shrank into his body, forming a hole,
and his testicles moved inwards, becoming ovaries. As the conversion was occurring, he realized what would
happen next, and quickly scribbled down 'don't need at moment' even as the process finished. She waited, but
nothing appeared inside of her, and she didn't feel any pain or cramps. Phew, crisis averted, she thought.
Question 11: If you were a girl... would you shave?
Of course! she thought, and wrote it down on the paper; instantly, all of her body hair disintegrated, leaving smooth
skin. She rubbed her chin, where she'd had the beginning of a scraggy beard, and marveled at the smoothness
she found there.
Question 12: If you were a girl... what color would your hair be?
Doug thought about this one. Her own hair, now that it was back, was grey, but she remembered once having a full
head of dark brown hair. She'd never particularly like the color of it, especially now, and thought it a bit plain, so
she wrote 'blonde, with light blue streaks', and watched in the mirror as the dry, grey hair lightened and became
blonde, with the light blue streaks going from tip to about an inch before the scalp, where both colors faded to
grey, and with a start realized the light blue streaks were natural. Interesting...
Question 13: If you were a girl... what color would your eyes be?
Fueled by the knowledge the magic wasn't limited to what was physically possible, she thought for a second, and
then wrote 'changes to whatever color I want it to be'. Then she looked in the mirror, at her unassuming brown
eyes, and willed them to turn bright red. Nothing happened for a moment, and she started to turn away,
disappointed, when her eyes started to itch, and then the irises turned a vivid shade of bright red. Grinning, she
quickly cycled through most of the visible light spectrum, including pure white and pure black (both of which were
creepy; she didn't linger on them very long), almost settling on light blue, but finally deciding on a shade of green
that seemed to go with the hair color.
Question 14: If you were a girl... what kind of shirt would you wear?
Doug glanced down at the shirt she was currently wearing; it was a worn old plain black t-shirt, which had once
bore the school crest on the left side; worn and faded, the last remnants of the crest had disappeared when her
chest had exploded outward, distorting and stretching the shirt in ways it wasn't meant to take, even new. It fit
poorly around not just the chest, but the waist and hips as well; her waist had shrunken inwards slightly without
her noticing, and her hips and spread outward a little when her groin had changed, although she'd been a bit pre-
occupied at the time to notice. She didn't want to wear something ridiculous like a tube top or a 'half-shirt',
whatever it was called, that bared the midriff, so she just wrote down 'light blue top', and the shirt readjusted to her
more feminine proportions, the wear and tear vanishing, making the shirt seem new, as the neckline formed a V,
showing a bit more skin than the remaining male part of her would like. She didn't dwell on it too long before going
back to the questionnaire.
Question 15: If you were a girl... would you be into guys?
Doug had been raised in an old-fashioned, Christian home, and while he had long since abandoned the closed-
mindedness about sexual orientation such an upbringing usually instilled, she was still uncomfortable at the
thought of being bisexual or gay, so she wrote down 'yes' without really thinking what it would mean. Suddenly,
she found that her breasts no longer seemed so strange and wonderous, they were just... there. Curious, she
thought about some of her colleagues, and realized the women no longer seemed so attractive, while she was
disappointed her memory couldn't conjure up more than a hazy image of the male teachers. In particular, that
intern that had walked in on her in the teachers lounge... She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, and
moved on to the next question before she starting thinking of... other things.
Questions 16: If you were a girl... what would be your intelligence, from 1 to 10? (1 being a blonde bimbo and 10
being a total nerd)
She felt uncomfortable at the thought this little piece of paper could change how smart or stupid she was... but
then, it could change everything else, couldn't it? All the same, she wanted to keep as much about herself the
same as possible; she estimated herself to be around a 6 or 7, remembering she had dropped out moreso
because of the amount of work high school had required than the difficulty of said work, and wrote '7' on the page.
She didn't feel much different, and thought about a math problem she'd tried to solve the other day before erasing it
from the board; at the time, he'd gotten stuck, and copied the equation down for later before erasing the question
and his work. But now, though, another solution to one of the steps occurred to her, and pulling the scrap paper
out of her bag, she wrote the alternate solution down, and checked to find it was right. It had still been hard, but
not unsolvable to her; she grimaced when she realized she'd overestimated herself. At least I wasn't that far off,
she thought, before crumpling up the paper and tossing it away.
Question 17: If you were a girl... what would your age, height, and weight without clothes be? (Don't lie)
Ah, finally, she thought, and wrote down '16, 5' 7", 120 lbs'. Her whole body erupted into goosebumps again,
before shrinking in size, losing weight and years. The height change was negligible; she'd written what she thought
her height was, and estimated a weight for the average 16 year old girl these days. Not all of the fat disappeared,
though; much of what was on her stomach moved down into her hips and legs, completing the feminine figure that
had started forming from the earlier questions. When the physical change was complete, her clothes readjusted to
fit her new, much slimmer body, and she noticed the neckline deepened to show even more skin, while the skirt
became slightly shorter. Looking in the mirror, she gasped; she seemed almost identical to her sister, from what
she remembered of her when she was 16. The only real difference was the hair and eye color. Shaken, she looked
at the second-last question on the questionnaire:
Question 18: If you were a girl... how sporty would you be?
Doug hated sports. She'd hated it in high school, she hated it now. She was an advocate of hard work, but
exercising didn't appeal to her, part of the reason why the last question had removed so much fat. Then she had
an idea, and wrote down 'Not very, but I'd be naturally skinny and muscle-y' Instantly, her muscles became more
toned, and she could feel herself become stronger, although how she knew she didn't know. Two birds with one
stone, she thought, and smiled; the smile turned into a grin when she saw how cute her reflection had become
when she smiled. One last question, and I can start my new life, she thought happily.
Question 19: Now that you're a girl... will you (and everyone else) remember you as a girl, or as the guy you used
to be?
She shivered, and wondered if the questionnaire's magic was strong enough to effect everyone she'd ever met, and
herself, that extensively. Why not? It didn't seem to have any limitations so far beyond the restrictions inherent in
distinct questions. She didn't like the thought of giving up who she had been for 57 years of her life, though. And
then she thought of an alternative: She wrote the words 'Everyone else only remembers me as a girl, but I can
remember being a guy and a girl'. She wasn't sure if this would work; but then information started flooding her
brain, memories and skills a teenage girl would have but a old man wouldn't, and she still remembered her old life,
although it seemed dim and less worth holding onto now. The bell rung, startling her out of her rushing thoughts,
and she picked up her little light blue backpack off the floor and headed for what her female memories told her was
her favorite class. Definitely worth it, she thought, and smiled at the paper; as she did so, she noticed more words
appearing beneath the questions. She read them as she hurried down the hallway; her class was on the other side
of the school.
The words read: Very clever, miss 'Doug'. I'll let it pass, since you were willing to finish me without prodding. If you
want to live a happy life as a girl, though, you'll pass me onto someone else, boy or girl, before the day ends.
By the way, Doug isn't a very feminine name, is it?
Question 20: If you were a girl... what would your name be?
She almost tripped and stopped walking when the paper referred to both itself and her little trick with the last
question. She wondered if the 'passing on' business was standard, or something especially for her; she wasn't
likely to find out, though, so she took her favorite pen - no, the teachers lounge pen - out of her bag where she'd
put it, and wrote the name from her female memories on the last line. The question disappeared, and all of the
'Doug's on the page briefly turned to 'Susan's before the questionnaire wiped itself clean of her answers. As she
stared at the empty questionnaire, a boy walking past her tripped on one of his shoelaces, and the pile of books in
his arms spilled everywhere. She stopped, and helped him pick up his books; she noticed that he looked close to
tears, and not from the fall. Deciding quickly, she slipped the questionnaire between two of his books as she
passed them back to him, then smiled and went on towards her class.