Poor choices

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The In-Law Disguise

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Bea’s master bedroom felt like a trap. Arthur, trapped inside a young woman’s body and wearing a silk robe that barely reached her knees, paced nervously back and forth. His slender fingers trembled as he held the phone to his ear. The call rang three times before Bea finally answered. — Dad? Any progress with the lab’s magnetic aligner? — Bea’s voice came through the phone, except it carried the deep, gravelly tone of Arthur’s own voice. — Bea! Forget the damn aligner for five minutes! — Arthur whispered, his words coming out in a high-pitched, panicked voice he still hadn’t learned to control. — We have a gigantic problem here. Luke. — What about Luke? Did he figure something out?
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My Best Friend Caught the "Gender Flu" and Everything Changed!

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"Hey man, my eyes are up here," Peter complained, crossing his arms uncomfortably in the office chair. Aron quickly looked away, rubbing the back of his neck."I know, but the pose and the outfit choice aren't really helping, are they? "Peter huffed, adjusting the thin strap of the floral dress."My mom insists that I have to embrace femininity. I didn't choose to wear this. She found it in the back of her closet and said I'd look adorable in it." "And she’s absolutely right. You look beautiful... or handsome, sorry!" Aron laughed, his face flushing slightly. "I'm still not used to the fact that my best friend caught this 'Gender Flu' thing and is now so stunning! "Peter gave a flustered look, his lip twitching slightly."You shouldn't even be here. I mean, who knows how contagious this disease still is? By the end of the four-day symptom period, it could be your mom thinking you're a life-sized doll an...
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The 50% Deal

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Uncle Tony had always been a visionary man. When his wife, Stephanie, filed for divorce, he did exactly what any man with plenty of money would do: he protected his assets. He didn't want to lose a single penny—not even the money he'd spent on countless cosmetic procedures to make her look like a high-end inflatable doll. According to him, I had always been one of his favorite nephews. So when he approached me with an offer asking if I wanted to "own half of his fortune," I accepted immediately, without bothering to read between the lines. I assumed he'd set up some offshore account for me. I didn't even question why it was "only" 50%. After all, becoming a millionaire overnight is every broke young man's dream. I could already picture all the ways I'd blow that money. The catch came immediately after I said yes. He pulled out a flashy golden-link necklace, placed it around my neck, and, in the blink of an eye, reality changed. I woke ...
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