He Was Too Manly to Play with Dolls
So when his mother told him to go spend some time playing with his little sister, he crossed his arms and gave an exaggerated, mocking laugh.
“Me? Play dolls with her? I'm way too manly for that, Mom! The most I'd play with would be G.I. Joe. Do I really look like the kind of guy who'd sit in a pink room brushing Barbie's hair?”
His mother simply sighed.
His little sister had been listening from nearby.
She frowned.
“You're mean, Malcom!”
He simply shrugged, completely unaware that his choice of words was about to come back to haunt him.
She crossed her arms and thought about what he'd just said. He didn't have the look or the way of someone who would ever sit in a pink room and play with dolls.
Fine.
If that was what he thought was missing, then she knew exactly what to wish for.
She closed her eyes tightly and whispered with complete sincerity:
“I wish Malcom could finally be the kind of person who plays with dolls.”
She had no idea how literally that wish would be interpreted.
Outside the window, a shooting star suddenly streaked across the night sky.
And somewhere in the universe, magic decided that Malcom's little sister had been very, very specific.
The next morning, his alarm never got the chance to wake him.
Malcom opened his eyes and immediately knew something was wrong.
His body felt strangely light, soft, and unfamiliar. Instead of waking up in his messy bedroom, he found himself sitting beside a golden makeup cart in a room filled with pink decorations, fluffy blankets, and shelves covered with dolls and beauty products.
“What the...?”
He reached for the compact mirror sitting in his delicate hand.
Then he looked at his reflection.
The shock was overwhelming.
His short hair was gone, replaced by long, platinum-blonde waves cascading over his shoulders. A huge pink bow sat neatly on top of his head. His face looked completely different, framed by carefully styled hair, perfectly shaped eyebrows, and flawless makeup.
And the clothes certainly weren't helping.
He was wearing a fitted pink crop top emblazoned with the Barbie logo, paired with a white pleated skirt. His new figure was unmistakably feminine, with a tiny waist and long, shapely legs. Completing the bizarre ensemble was a pair of enormous pink platform heels.
Malcom stared at himself in disbelief.
“No. No way!”
He tried to shout.
But instead of the deep, masculine voice he expected, a soft, feminine voice escaped his perfectly glossed lips.
Malcom froze.
He slowly looked down at himself again.
Then back at the mirror.
“Oh, you've got to be kidding me...”
The pieces finally came together.
His sister's wish.
The shooting star.
The transformation.
She hadn't wished for Malcom to pretend to be a doll.
She had wished for him to have the perfect look to play dolls with her.
And apparently, the universe had decided to interpret that wish as literally as possible.
Malcom had spent years insisting he was far too manly for anything pink, pretty, or remotely Barbie-related.
Now he had become the ultimate living doll.
His sister's bedroom door suddenly opened.
She peeked inside, saw him sitting there in complete shock, and her eyes lit up.
“See? I knew you could do it!”
Malcom stared at her in disbelief.
“Do what?”
She held up a Barbie brush.
“Be the kind of brother who plays with dolls!”
She grabbed a hairbrush from the table and proudly held it up.
“Come on! We have so many dolls to play with!”
Malcom stared at the brush.
Then at his reflection.
Then at his sister's enormous smile.
There was absolutely no way he was going to live this down.
And somehow, judging by the way his sister was already planning the day's makeover, this was only the beginning.
After all, if the magic had taken his sister's wish literally once...
"He thought dolls weren’t a 'man’s game'—well, now he’s gotta learn to play with them and with the hearts of every guy in town!"
Check out the most recent story: The Price of Permutation
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