User:Black flamingo11/4thdimension
I've always known that I should have been born a woman. My mum and dad thought I was going to be one and bought all the dresses and pink bonnets and shit. So that’s proof. Anyway that’s not really important. I got invited to a fancy dress party the other day, or a three-people-wear-fancy-dress-whilst-everyone-else-pretends-they-didn’t-know-they-were-supposed-to party as I call them (or a T.P.W.F.D.W.E.E.P.T.D.K.T.W.S.T party for short). I’ll probably be one of the many people who turns up not looking like a dick (not in fancy dress in other words). I went to see my friend Eugene, to ask if he was going to the party.
“No,” he said. “Are you?”
“Definitely.”
“What are you going as?”
“Just me.”
“Damon Andrews says that anyone who doesn’t get dressed up won’t be allowed in.”
“Well then I’ll just kick Damon Andrews in the brain until he lets me come in then.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to just dress up?”
I decided it would be.
“But I don’t have anything to wear. Have you got anything?”
“No.”
Eugene looked around sheepishly.
“What about your Vulcan ears? The ones you got off eBay?”
“No!” he gasped. “Mark Lenard wore those in episode 39.”
“Who the fuck’s he? Wait…come to think of it I don’t care. Just let me borrow them. Come on, I won’t break them or anything.”
“Only if you promise not to lose or break them, and bring them back ‘cause I need them the next day.”
“Alright, alright, don’t cry,” I laughed.
Eugene went to his room and came back with a dusty box. He took out the Vulcan ears like they were newborn babies and laid them softly on the table. I was half expecting him to kiss them.
“Would you like the science-blue tunic to go with them?”
I gave him my do-I-look-like-I-want-the-science-blue-tunic-to-go-with-them look, and in case that didn’t work I told him to fuck off.
I shagged a really hot girl at the party. She was beautiful. Her name was Edith. I kind of feel guilty because I didn’t use a condom. I hope she doesn’t get pregnant, but she could always get the morning-after pill or fall down the stairs or something. How do I know she wasn’t on the pill anyway? She let me do it so… Then again she was pretty drunk. Also I think she was a virgin. Didn’t get her phone number either so the only way I’ll find out is in eighteen years time when the kid comes searching for its father. You may think I’m a bastard but it’s kind of her fault too for being so hot. Everybody knows men have no control over their penises, it’s a scientific fact.
Oh, and in lighter news I lost Eugene’s ears.
For the next few days I avoided Eugene and tried to find Edith, for some reason as I was doing this, I kept bumping into Eugene in the streets, yet Edith was nowhere to be seen.
“Have you got them?” Eugene would always say.
“No. I’ll bring them around tomorrow,” I would always reply.
Ah, Edith. What a beautiful name. I had a dream about her the other day, she was alone and pregnant in the rain, and she was calling for me. You could see her nipples through her top, which just made me want to call out for her even more, but she couldn’t hear me. Thinking about her now, I am just completely in awe of her. Beautiful, funny, intelligent and just so cool. I just know she’d make a wonderful mum. If I was a woman, I would want to be like her.
I visited a few of the people who had been at the party. I generally got the same response from the men; “I dunno who she was mate, but she was totally fit. I can’t believe you got some of that,” which was no help. The women, however, all said things like; “You mean the slutty one?” and “Have you had yourself tested?" At least the men fed my ego even if they couldn’t help me find the girl.
On the few occasions I remembered to ask about Eugene’s ears I did, only to learn that nobody knew what had happened to them. Then, a few days later I saw Eugene in the supermarket. He was buying vegetarian sausages. What a twat.
“You haven’t been answering the phone,” he said. “Or the door, or the e-mails. Also the other day when I passed you in the street, you tried to hide behind a lamppost.”
“I was reading some amusing graffiti.”
“I know you’ve lost my ears. And I won’t rest until you’ve bought me some new ones.”
“Let’s just say, hypothetically, that I have lost your ears, which I haven’t; how much would I expect to pay?”
“They cost me eight hundred and seventy five pounds.”
I winced at each additional number, and sadly nodded. To cheer myself up I slipped a packet of 100% beef quarter-pounders into his bag before strolling away. I was in deep trouble now. Even if I could find some more Vulcan ears worn by Matt whatever-his-name-is the loser, I would have to pay shit loads for them. I increased the efforts of my search over the next few days, even going so far as looking around Damon Andrews’ house for them. That night I dressed up in woman’s clothing. I wanted to look like Edith but it didn’t really work. I'm just so manly.
The next day I browsed eBay for Vulcan ears, and found some for seventy dollars. I sent the link to Eugene, who promptly (he is eternally online) responded with;
“They were made 20 years after mine were, and weren’t worn by anyone famous. Plus they look shit.”
I can’t stop thinking about Edith. Whenever people talk to me, I don’t listen to what they say, I just see her. I’ve nearly been run over five times this week from not looking where I was going. I’ve really started to think I’d be happier as a woman, although I’m scared that I might not be able to beat people up as effectively as I can now. Turning my computer on, I started to search the internet for any evidence of Edith. Her surname was unknown to me, so I described her: ‘blonde hair, big tits, nice arse, medium build, known to attend fancy dress parties…’ that was all I could think of. After flicking through four pages of porn sites, I decided to omit the words ‘big tits’. Still no results. So I tried the phrase: ‘sex reassignment surgery.’
People seemed to think that I had made this decision on a whim, but it was more like a sudden realisation that I had been building up to for years. Of course, it wasn’t all that sudden, as I had to read various ‘getting started’ leaflets and start pretending to be a woman for practice. And then I had to have months and months of counselling to make sure I wasn’t going to just change my mind and go rooting through the bins for my dick.
The main question I was facing was; “What are you going to call yourself?” To be honest, there was only one answer. Plus I could only think of one girl’s name at the time. I would have to change my middle name as well, but since I don’t know Edith’s, I took my Mother’s; Julie. I’m sure when she gets over the initial shock and stops crying she’ll be flattered by this little tribute.
I went around to Eugene’s as well the other day. He assures me that I will buy him some new ears. And I assured him that I’m still looking for them, but they’re definitely in my house somewhere. Damon Andrews still won’t let me prize up his floorboards and look for them there. If only I hadn’t been so drunk I might have remembered what I’d done with them. Surely I no longer had them while I was making love? Imagine shagging a Vulcan (if you’re s Star Trek fan then this is probably a daily occurrence for you). I tried retracing my steps, but I kept falling over. Tomorrow I will it attempt it in high heels.
Regular meetings with my plastic surgeon became compulsory. His name was Dr. Noah, I asked him if people ever called him Dr. No for short. I guess he isn’t a big James Bond fan ‘cause he just started talking about my future tits. I told him I wanted; ‘the biggest possible’ and held my hands out in front of me to demonstrate. He examined me and said as I’m quite slim, the best he could do was probably 36D. I said that sounded big, and he said it was.
“Great!” I replied.
So now I am Edith mark 2. I’m pretty sure my breasts are bigger than hers, but I do actually look a bit like her (nowhere near as beautiful though, obviously). Also, I laugh at myself whenever I look in the mirror because although from the waist up I’m a totally sexy woman, between my legs I still have this reasonably large penis dangling away in some imaginary breeze. It’s an odd sight, I’m sure you can find similar images on the internet if you’re interested. After my final operation, I went to the pub to celebrate with a few friends.
“Well... I would,” said my friend John.
It was a great night; I even got into a fight. It was with some bitch in the toilets. I’ve been practicing my woman-punch to help me blend in (the one where they thrust their fist downwards at you, so they hit you with the bottom of their fist. You know, the one that doesn’t hurt at all). I used to get excited by watching cat fights, but now I was actually in one! I made sure I didn’t break convention and pulled her hair a bit.
Eugene walked me back home.
“Now you’re a woman you need someone to protect you.”
“Bollocks, I’m harder than ever!”
It turned out however, that he just wanted to talk to me about the ears.
“It’s been over a year now, I’ve been going easy on you because of all the stress you’ve been under. But now that that’s over, I have to demand that you give me money.”
I don’t have any on me,” I spluttered. “But I guess you’re right. I’ve been a twat. Knock ‘round tomorrow or something and I’ll write you a cheque.”
He seemed really happy, I hope he realises that it was simply the nicer, drunken version of me talking to him, and that as soon as the alcohol was out of my blood I would just tell him to fuck off again. I went up to my room, as far as I could tell there was only one option now, and if that didn’t work then I would have to revive the lie that I still had Eugene’s ears and maintain it for the rest of my life. I grabbed some paper and a pen, and started writing: "My name is Edith Julie Thorn and I need to travel back in time so badly. I am an incredibly attractive bisexual woman with big boobs in desperate need of a time machine. If any future humans have any spare ones please bring them back to: 11 Loch Grove, Birkenhead, England CH46 8SE – 26th November 2010, afternoon (preferably)." I put tomorrow’s date, because I wasn’t really in the mood for meeting new people tonight. Plus this way, I can put off being disappointed when nobody shows up.
“Edith. Edith wake up,” murmured a soft male voice.
I rolled over and strained my crusty eyes to see a scruffy looking man. He looked like he was in his thirties and was a complete stranger to me.
“Hello?”
“I got your note. I’ve come to lend you my time machine.”
“What?”
“Your note. I don’t know when you wrote it, but I found it the other day and came back here in my time machine.”
“Ah I get it. You read my note. You’re joking. You came in here and read my note. Very funny, I was drunk so fuck off. What are you doing here?”
I coughed, my throat was raw. What was I drinking last night, cheese graters?
“No you don’t understand. I really am from the future. Look, I left my time machine in the corner of your room.”
I looked over and saw it. Oh my god, I thought, either this is a really elaborate and expensive joke or this is real. The machine was a little pod, with exhausts and stuff all over it. I can’t really describe it to be honest, I don’t know much about mechanics.
“Where are you from?”
“Only about 40 years in the future.”
“And people have time machines then?”
“Actually no, it’s kinda funny. I also wrote a note to people in the future, only I did it using technology you don’t have yet. I just really wanted to help you but I didn’t have a time machine. A beautiful woman from the future lent me hers. She’s watching us right now.”
“How?”
“You wouldn’t understand. Even I don’t.”
We sat in silence for a moment, me considering the amazing opportunity I had been presented with. First I would go and get Eugene’s stupid ear things, because I am a good friend. Then I’ll think of something really cool and fun to do with it and not invite Eugene. Ha, he’d love a time machine, possibly even more than me.
“So, whenever you’re ready we’ll jump back.”
“Oh great! Err. I guess you want to sleep with me or something? For a reward.”
“I’d rather not actually. If it’s all the same with you.”
Prudish little cock-tease, I mean, um, vagina tease. I asked the man’s name, he said it was Howard. I was kind of disappointed, it didn’t sound very sci-fi. I was expecting something like Zapp McUniverse or Captain Star-balls.
Me and Howard arrived back on the date of that now infamous party, just around the corner from Damon Andrews' house. Time travel was weird, it kind of felt like going to Wales. I saw my old male self with the ears. Good, I hadn't lost them yet. Couldn't see Edith anywhere though, which was a shame. I was excited about meeting her again, discussing girly things, comparing boobs. Maybe we could even align our menstural cycles, although I'm still not sure how you do that.
Shit, I thought. My past self was looking at me in a way that made me feel very wrong. Like when you accidentally see your mum naked. I need to find Edith, and point him towards her. That's the only way to get rid of him. No, don't come over you stupid bugger.
"Hi," he slurred.
"Hello there."
"What's your name?"
I told him my name, and suddenly had a terrible realisation.
Yeah, so... I fucked myself. At first it was strange. Very, very strange. But after about five minutes it felt like the most natural thing in the world, even whilst wearing the Vulcan ears. Actually, I was pretty good in bed. It's definitely something I would like to try again. When we got back I said to Howard:
"Listen, I have a serious question... Are you my son?"
He laughed and told me he wasn't, although he wouldn't have been surprised if he were. It would have been weird enough to be true. He has a point as well, this has been the strangest thing that's happened to me since that time I saw a dog driving a car. Maybe even stranger.
Anyway, that's pretty much the end of my story. Howard went back home, and Eugene is happy to have his crappy toy ears safely back in a box where no one will ever see them. And as for me, well... I fell in love with my male counterpart that night. It made me start wearing boy's clothes again. I wonder what they did with my penis?