“Yes?” I replied with my back still to her.
“I need you to turn around. Please.”
They were all going to laugh. I could feel it. Whatever. I’d just be a dickier dick for the next few years to make up for this oversight.
“Please,” she repeated.
“Fine,” I said. It was time to face the embarrassing music. At least, I wasn’t wearing the purple pantaloons anymore. That might have killed me.
I turned and looked at her. The smile on her face was wide and sincere. And… her arms were extended.
I squinted at her. “What are you doing?”
“I respect you,” she said.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” she said. “You did me better than I would have done me. Granted, I probably lost a few years off my eternal life when you demanded names, but it was brilliant. You were brilliant.”
The sensation in my chest was wild. I felt light and free, and dare I say… happy. Astrid had walked in my shoes. I’d walked in hers. She was still a pussy and I was still a dick, but I’d added a touch of pussy into my vocabulary and it didn’t kill me. It made me better. And hopefully, she added a little dick to her life.
“You did me better than I could have at the snooker parlor,” I admitted. “However, I’d like that to stay in this room.”
“Roger that,” she said with a giggle.
I gave Lizard and his hookers an exacting stare. All three vowed never to speak of the incident.
I turned my attention back to my niece. “I really do respect you, Astrid.”
“Right back at you, Uncle Fucker.”
The hug was lovely. The love and respect between us were real. I wasn’t lying. She wasn’t lying. A very, very, very small part of me would miss being Astrid. Not enough to ever switch again, but the experience left me a changed man. Changed in a good way.
The shift back into our own bodies was fast and painless. It tickled. I was me again. And Astrid was Astrid. The magic was warm and cleansing—like a spring rain shower.
“Hi, Astrid,” I said, looking down at the pretty face of my niece.
“Hi to you too, Uncle Fucker,” she said. “We did it. We reversed the spell. Should we tell Mother Nature?”
I shook my head and laughed. “No. Let that terrible woman suffer. In fact, when we see her next, I say we pretend we’re still switched.”
Astrid laughed. “That’s a dick move, dude.”
“Thank you, Dickie.”
She touched my cheek and smiled. “You’re very welcome, Pussycat.”
