You walk over to a mirror and see your reflection. She’s right; you do almost look like a fairy. Almost; and that somehow disheartened you. “I don’t want to ALMOST look like a fairy.” You say.
“Are you still going on about wanting me to change you back?” Krissy asked.
“On the contrary,” you answer, “I want to REALLY look like a fairy.”
“You do?” Krissy asked.
“Yes. Flying with you holding on to me… I want to experience it for myself, with my own wings.”
“Well, this is certainly a turnaround in attitude.”
“I can’t explain it, maybe it’s morbid curiosity, maybe seeing myself in a dress and not looking absolutely weird awoke some strange desire in me, who knows? My point is; I want the same experience on our date as you.”
“I see.” Krissy said. “I should warn you though, what you ask is nothing as simple as turning you into a girl, or shrinking you. To become a fairy is to be one permanently.”
“Oh, you can’t just give me wings?” You ask.
“No, the wings of a fairy are a symbol of pride to us. They are what we are in a literal sense. We do not just casually grant them to whoever asks, and certainly not for a temporary thrill. Only those who truly wish to become fairies can be given them. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Knowing all this, do you still wish to go through with it?”
After careful consideration, you answer with an adamant yes “Transform me into a fairy!”