Game 4Game 4 Outline| Game 4 |
Game 4 Outline |
He clicks 'Play'. The video is showing nothing extraordinary; a plain Doctors room, similar to this one. A very attractive young girl, about 16 or 17, with blonde hair and casual clothing is sat upon a wooden chair. A flabby man with quivering jowls and mad-scientist hair is standing next to her with a syringe. "Ready?" he grunts, his jowls quivering as he speaks. "Ready." her face is screwed up with fear, but her feckless green eyes are shining with excitement. The Doctor peels up her sleeve - wet with sweat - scrubs a small area of her arm and injects her. "This may take a few minutes. You may feel some discomfort, but it will pass. Once the transformatology has worn off, we'll run a few tests, then return you to normal." the Doctor seats himself and forms his fingers into a steeple. For a moment or two, the girl seems fine. Then, suddenly, she screams with sheer agony. You jump back in horror, nearly falling off your chair, at what his happening to the young girl. Her hair is changing colour, from beautiful blonde to a dull, dark, mousy-brown. It's becoming dirty and matted, too. The pounds are piling upon her tiny frame, her frail skeletal structure is heaving under the effort.. but that too changes. Her seawater-green eyes contract with pain and then become a faded, dirty, washed-out blue colour. Her clothes rip as more-than-ample breasts and thighs rip through. Spots grow and burst upon her skin in fast motion, pus dribbles across her chin. Her delicate little nose gives a horrific snort sound and becomes a veritable trout. Finally, it stops, and she lies upon the ground, sobbing gently. The Doctor gets up, smiling, and places his jacket around her shoulders. She stands up shakily. "Look at the camera, please." The Doctor points. The 'girl' looks directly at the screen and you see her clearly. She looks to be an overweight, spotty, greasy women, of the type you often see on housing estates. 45-50 years of age, with greasy, tangled matted hair, weighing upwards of 200 pounds. "Will I stay like this, Doctor?" she whispers, turning to a mirror and caressing her new jowls with horror in her dull, piggy eyes. "Just for today. Tests, you know. New technology." the Doctor rubs his hands with glee.
The Doctor you are with gets up and turns off the video. "Basically, we can inject you with tiny little robots. You know how your body grows, I presume - your cells split and form new cells, which also split and form new cells, and so on and so forth. But we have worked out a way to inject AI, artifical intelligence, into your bloodstream. Tiny, computer-operated microbes that latch onto cells and cause them to 'infect' other cells with the genetic information we command them to. Similar to how cancer spreads, but this is painless and risk-free, rest assured." "Didn't look painless on the TV." your voice is shaking. A 16 year old girl just aged 30 years in front of your eyes, without having a bath in between - you have a right to be nervous, right? "It's progressed a long way since then. And we can flush out the AI afterwards, leaving only a tiny computer chip to monitor your body and keep you looking different. You can become anyone you like, at the touch of a button or a simple vocal command. You could masquerade as a famous person; you could become handsome so the prettiest girl in school likes you. You could BECOME the prettiest girl in school, if you so desired - though transexualformationalism sounds a bit long." the Doctor chuckles. " It's your choice, really. Do you WANT to do whatever you want for a full month, looking and acting however you want? All we want you to do is play around with the system, become anyone you want, and come back in a month to tell me how it works."
So, will you do it? Or chicken out?
Written by an anonymous author
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