“Yes, Michelle,” you say.
“I’m better this way,” she says. “The Nerd Girl suit was a very good idea.”
“I can’t disagree with that,” you tell her.
“Excuse me!” Michelle, looking queasy, rushes to the nearest bathroom, not closing the bathroom door behind her, and after only a little gagging vomits up one, then the other of what you realize must be Shelly’s breast implants! She recovers at once and says, “Normally I’d say that this is impossible, but it’s also impossible to put on a costume and become a smaller, more-intelligent woman!”
“You’re getting rid of what you don’t need to be Michelle instead of Shelly?” you ask.
“That’s also my guess,” she says. “I wonder where the extra flesh and bone will go. Maybe I’ll digest it. Maybe I’m going to spend a marathon session on the toilet, or maybe I’ll go without food for a week, slowly consuming Shelly’s skin and extra bone and excess muscle and so on.”
“You seem okay with those possibilities,” you say.
“I love the new me and I don’t want to be that pretend bimbo Shelly ever again!” she says.
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