The Magicians Apprentice free porn video

SRU: The Magician's Apprentice By Bill Hart A heavy chorus of boos continued to rain down on the magician from the assembled crowd of children at the birthday party. Their jeers had really surprised him. But not because they booed his magic tricks, for many others had hooted at him derisively in the past and he had no doubts that others would do so again in times to come. It was just that they were so incredibly loud. How was it possible for a couple dozen kids to make that much noise. Of course, that could be fixed. He could silence them all somewhat by changing about half of the mangy little twerps into squawking geese. But he didn't think that any of the parents of those he would love to see transformed would appreciate being greeted by a goose or a gander when they arrived to pick up their daughter or son. But then, that really wasn't a readily available option for him at the moment anyway. The wizard's council had already taken care of that matter before they'd banished him to life, if what he was doing could really be called living, in the mortal world. The banishment order still allowed him to do real magic, but when he performed in front of mortals, he was forbidden by that same decree from using any real magic. Or at least any real magic that couldn't be readily and easily explained away as fakery. So here he was trying to make a living among the mortals by hiring himself out for any occasion that required a stage magician. And he was using the not overly original stage name of Mr. Amazing. Today, he was working some little brat's birthday party discretely performing genuine magic, that all the kids and their parents thought was totally bogus. He didn't think he was much worse than most of the several mortal magicians he'd seen and he was definitely better than some, but the masses never seemed to boo any of them. "There's just got to be a better way to make a living." he mumbled to himself as he left the brat's house. "But what else can I do?" And if being booed hadn't been bad enough, the brat's parents had added insult to injury by refusing to pay for his services. They had called him an incompetent boob and a miserably poor excuse for entertainment for their precious little angel's party. They'd even threatened to have him arrested for impersonating a magician. As he walked away, he wondered how'd they like waking up in the wild as Tasmanian wolves. There was nothing quite as exciting to those scientists who studied animals, then having a previously thought extinct animal suddenly pop up out of nowhere. And a breeding pair might ... but he knew the wizard's council would intervene and prevent him from doing what he wanted. Sometimes he thought it would have been a kinder fate if the council had done away with him as a couple of its more radical members had wanted to do. But as he continued along his way, contemplating other things he might to do to these deadbeats, his train of thought suddenly detoured to an old friend he hadn't seen in years. "I really wonder how my old friend is getting along these days." he wondered aloud. There was no one nearby to overhear him so he wasn't worried that people would think him crazy for talking to himself. "Maybe I should go and pay him a call. According to the information the council gave me, he runs a small and highly successful shop in the mall. Maybe he can tell me how he manages to deal with some of these mortals on an every day basis and still make a profit. Maybe he can point out to me what I'm doing wrong. I can only hope, he'll have some kind of miracle to help me." * * * * * A short while later, the banished magician stood in the mall just outside the shop of his old friend. "Cute name, Spells 'R Us." he mumbled. "Tells everything, yet nothing at all." As he went inside, the little bell above the door tinkled to announce his presence. Quickly looking around the nearly empty shop, he once more wondered how his friend could make a successful living from this little shop, especially with it being located here in the mortal world. But somehow, not only had he made his shop successful, it was incredibly successful. And it was the talk and envy of nearly every member of the Wizard's Council. "Elmer!" exclaimed the old man as he entered the main shop from the rear storage room. "Or would you prefer I called you Mr. Amazing? Just how long has it been anyway? One, or two centuries?" Elmer groaned. "It's been closer to two, my old friend." replied Elmer. "And please call me Elmer, as in the old days. I'm afraid that Mr. Amazing is little more than a plain and simple fiasco, not to mention a very unsuccessful contrivance of the council." "I doubt the Council would like another mortal world success like my shop." replied the old man. "But then, you have come to visit me with the hope that I might be able to tell you why your magic act is in such a major shambles." "I never could hide anything from you, my friend." sighed Elmer. "But you've always seemed to know what everyone needs and wants, even before they know." "Its really just a small gift of mine." replied the old man as he shrugged his shoulders. "Tell me about your assistant, Elmer." "Assistant? What assistant? I don't have an assistant." answered Elmer puzzled by his old friend's statement. "But surely you knew that already? You know just about everything there is to know." "Of course, I know you have no assistant." replied the old man very casually. "That's the _problem_ with your act, Elmer. You have _no_ assistant." "What!" exclaimed Elmer. "You don't have an assistant, Elmer. One of the purposes for having an assistant is to distract the audience while the magician performs what the audience believes to be his incredible tricks and illusions. That distraction gives the audience a reason, not an overly logical one of course, to suspend their disbelief in what the magician is doing for a very short period of time. And, since the audience knows full well they're been tricked, they can rationalize away and push all of that blame for that trickery onto the distraction caused by the assistant. When a magician, like you, works alone, the audience has no one to irrationally blame for that trickery. Except you, of course. As a result, they react as if you've somehow cheated them personally, even if you actually haven't." "That makes pretty good sense." replied Elmer. "I would have never guessed that was the problem. I'll go out and find myself an assistant right now. Thank you, my old friend." "Anytime, Elmer." The old man smiled as his old friend Elmer, also known as Mr. Amazing, hurriedly exited his shop. But wasn't there something else he should have told him? * * * * * Elmer, without a real idea of where he might actually find his new assistant, looked everywhere he thought one might be hiding or possibly found to no avail. By the end of the second week of his search, he was nearing total despair of ever finding that assistant he desperately needed to make his act a success. But then fate stepped in. Elmer had stopped for lunch at a fast food burger joint across the street the local orphanage. As he ate, he spotted his future assistant doing simple card and "magic" tricks in front of a small crowd to earn some extra money. "Young man?" asked Elmer as he approached. "Yes." replied the wary young man. "I was wondering if you would you like a job?" "What kind of job?" "Why a magician's assistant, young man." replied Elmer. "In fact, you would be my assistant. I have no doubts, you've heard of me. I am known as Mr. Amazing." "Naw. I've never heard of you. But I think I'd like taking a whack at that job of yours. It sounds like fun. How much?" "Excellent, young man. We can discuss money later. But first, I'll need to speak with your parents so ..." "Ain't got no parents." "A legal guardian then ..." "Ain't got one of them neither, unless you want to count old Mr. Amos over there." He pointed across the street to the orphanage. "That's where I live. Of course, you just might have to adopt me," chuckled the young man, " that is, if getting an assistant is really all that important to you." "I just might do that, son." answered Elmer with a smile. "What should I call you?" "My name's Milton Johnson. But like everybody else that spends any time around these parts, you can call me Milt." he replied. "But, seriously, unless you've got a ton of money sitting around or you've been married nearly forever or you've got a shitpot full of connections, you'll never make it through all the paperwork and bureaucratic shit that's required for an adoption before I'm able to walk out of that place on my own." "I don't think we need to worry about any of that, Milt." said Elmer confidently. "By the way, you can call me Elmer." And, true to his word, exactly forty-five minutes after Milt and Elmer had entered the main office of the orphanage and sat down with its headmaster, they strolled out of Mr. Amos' office with not only a "Certificate of Adoption" in Elmer's hand, but also a guarantee that no other questions would ever be asked. And, just in case anyone ever decided to come looking for Milt later, Elmer had secretly altered Milt's records magically in ways that would make it next to impossible to ever find him. "How'd you do that?" asked Milt on the way to his new home. "Simple, Milt. I did it with magic." replied Elmer. "Just plain and simple, everyday magic, son. Someday I'll have to teach you how to do it." * * * * * For the next several weeks, Elmer and Milt practiced day and night. Elmer, who had expected to need several months to train his new assistant, was pleasantly surprised how quickly Milt learned the the fundamentals of the act, the act itself, and his role as the magician's assistant. After three weeks, instead of the anticipated several months, Elmer decided it was time to test the waters and put the show back on the stage. The next day, Elmer broke the news to Milt. "You've done so well in all the dress rehearsals we've had, that I've booked us as the live entertainment for a little girl's birthday party this afternoon." Elmer cheerfully told him in anticipation of their success. "Do you really think I'm ready, Elmer?" "Of course I do. More practice isn't going to make you any more ready, son. It's now time for us to do the real thing. I've nothing more I can teach you until after I've gauged how well you perform in front of an audience. But I know you'll do me proud, Milt." "Thank you, Elmer. I'll do my best." * * * * * As expected, Milt performed flawlessly. But, unexpectedly, their performance was still a flop. It had been an absolute, total disaster. The children and their parents alike hooted and hollered loudly at both Mr. Amazing and his assistant Milt as their act concluded. Catcalls echoed in their ears as they hurriedly fled from the small makeshift stage. And, just as the parents of that brat from the last party he'd done, the girl's irate parents decided not to pay them. Nothing had changed. Nothing at all. "But why?" he wondered aloud. "I've added a very competent assistant to the act as suggested. And Milt did everything perfectly - exactly the way we rehearsed. He executed flawlessly. And yet the audience still hated us and booed us unmercifully. Why? None of this makes any sense. Perhaps I should go visit my old friend at the mall again. Maybe he'll be able to tell me what we did wrong _this_ time." * * * * * As it had the last time, the little bell above the door tinkled to announce his entry into the little shop. Elmer saw his friend, dressed in a ratty-looking old bathrobe, sitting quietly on a stool behind the counter. "Welcome back, Elmer." said the old man before he looked up and saw his old friend. "I assumed you'd be here sometime today or early tomorrow after that fiasco of a performance this afternoon." "But what happened? I had a new assistant, just like you suggested." replied Elmer. "And I trained him - he's a really quick learner who will probably learn real magic given enough time. And he performed everything to perfection last night. Why didn't they like us?" "Now, that's an interesting question, Elmer. A magician's assistant, particularly one like Milton who exhibits some latent talent, has always been a great help for acts like yours in the past." said the wizard. "But for the life of me, Elmer, even with all the talent Milton possesses, I just don't understand why you didn't take my advice and hire a scantily clad young woman assistant to help you." "Scantily ... clad ... young ... woman??" "Of course, Elmer. In general, assistants to male magicians like yourself are scantily clad young women. The audience misses most of what the magician does, because they, being primarily men, tend to be watching her instead." "But my assistant Milt is a boy. I found him and adopted him when I saw how good at real magic he could become. Then I trained him and put him in the act. You never once said anything about taking on a female assistant, scantily clad or otherwise." "I didn't?" replied the old man sounding surprised. "I thought I did. I guess I must be getting old. You know how it is sometimes, Elmer. When you get to be as old as we are, sometimes you can be a little forgetful about those minor details." "That's just great. But what am I going to do now?" asked Elmer. Milt is a completely natural talent. He learned the act very quickly. He learned his role in it even quicker. And I'm certain he's going to be an exceptional magician in his own right in the very near future. There's no way I'll send him back to that orphanage. That would be grossly unfair to him. And you can call me a sentimentalist if you'd like, but I'd miss having him around." "Nobody said anything about sending Milt away, Elmer. I'm certain I have something in the stock room that will help solve this dilemma." The old man went into the back room and after the passage of only a few minutes returned with a large cardboard box. "These should be very helpful, Elmer." He handed the box to Elmer. "But it requires one other item from the back to go with it. I'll be right back." With that the wizard disappeared once again into his stock room. While his friend was in the back, Elmer opened the box. Peeking inside the box, he found the costume of a typical magician's assistant. Only the clothes he saw were not exactly anything would have deemed remotely appropriate for an assistant like Milt. However, they would have been absolutely perfect if that magician's assistant happened to be a female like his old friend had described earlier. For inside the box was a very short skirt and an extremely skimpy and very revealing halter-type top that would leave a huge area of the wearer's midsection exposed. Also inside, he found hosiery and silk panties and a woman's shoes with two-inch heels. Any girl, who could wear these clothes, which left next to nothing to the imagination, would most definitely be a distraction for any male watching from the audience. But why was his old friend giving _these_ clothes to him, he wondered. His assistant Milt wasn't a girl. And his old friend knew it. He doubted that Milt would ever want to wear any of these articles of clothing, even if he could somehow manage to don these skimpy clothes in the first place. "These are clothes for a girl, my friend." he told the wizard, who had just returned carrying a hat box. "Why have you given them to me? There's no way that Milt could wear them even if he wanted too." "That's not a problem at all, Elmer." answered the wizard. "Just have Milt put on these clothes, then you place this," the wizard pulled a wig of long silky golden hair from the hat box, "on his head. In practically no time at all, not only will these clothes fit as if they'd been made specifically for him, but you'll also have yourself a fully-trained, scantily clad, young female assistant." "What! Now wait just a minute!" exclaimed Elmer. "I don't want to turn him into a girl forever. And I seriously doubt Milt will jump at the opportunity of becoming a girl for the rest of his life either." "Once again, there's no problem, Elmer. After your act has finished for the evening, all you have to do is sit her down someplace so you can remove the wig from her head. In short order, the girl will become a boy again with no harm having been done him at all." The old man put the blonde wig back in the hat box. "He'll recall perfectly everything that happens to him both before and after his transformations to the fairer sex and back into himself again. He'll also retain her complete memories of what happened while he was a scantily clad, simply ravishing and beautiful magician's assistant. And she'll remember being him." "That sounds great ... I think. But do you think it will really help us? If it will, I can only hope that Milt will give this a chance, at least once." "This should solve your problem very nicely, Elmer. Mortals are often overly predictable in this area. But whatever the two of you decide on will be alright with me." replied his friend. "However, before I forget, there are a couple of simple precautions you must heed above everything else. "The first, and most important, is you must remember that only one person retains the capability of removing the wig and, as a result, returning the subject to normal. That one person is the person who put it on the subject's head. There are _no_ exceptions. It can be a different person that does the placement each time , but _that_ person must be the one to remove it or the wig will remain as it is to anyone and everyone else - the real hair of the _girl_ she has become." "I'll remember." replied Elmer. "What's the other precaution I need to take?" "The first time you transform Milt using the wig, he must be wearing these clothes. The first time someone wears the wig, the clothes being worn provide the template for the person the wearer becomes. If Milt doesn't wear these clothes, he won't become the buxom young girl you require. After the first time, the clothes worn are totally irrelevant, since the wig 'remembers' each wearer's template." "I'll remember." replied Elmer again. "And thank you for everything, my old friend." After returning home, Elmer sat down with Milt. He explained most, but definitely not all, of the things his old friend had told him. He managed to include what he'd been told about needing a scantily clad female assistant, but he had purposely excluded making any mention of the exceedingly high probability of _him_ actually changing genders to become that assistant. He was worried that Milt would object to becoming a girl, even if only for a little while each night. "Now all you have to do is wear those clothes in that box during the act tonight." Elmer told him smoothly. "My friend said they would be the difference between us being booed or cheered." "I don't know how they're going to help anything." replied Milt as he stared at the contents of the box. "These are girl clothes. They certainly aren't anything I'd normally wear, but I doubt they'll even come close to fitting me. I can't see how they'll help, but I suppose, if you're absolutely certain they'll make some difference in how the act is received, then I can give them a try once." "I'm glad to hear that, Milt. And I hope you'll be just as happy to hear I've also scheduled another performance for this afternoon." "So soon, Elmer." replied Milt. "I guess I'd better start getting ready." He sighed as he looked over the skimpy girl's clothes now spread out on his bed. For a long while, Milt stared at the clothes he'd agreed to wear. Right now, he had second thoughts about wearing them, but he had made the decision and told Elmer he'd wear them. And he wasn't about to go back on his word now. So, slowly he removed his own clothes and tossed them on the floor in a small pile near the foot of his bed. Then, even more slowly, he donned the clothes, as best he could, that Elmer had brought home from the wizard's shop. As he finished dressing, Milt attempted walking in the high heels back to the mirror. Having never walked in heels before, his ankles wobbled while he walked. Several times along the way, he nearly fell flat on his face. When he finally reached the mirror and stood in front of it, he stared at his reflection and shook his head. "I look totally ridiculous." he grumbled. Just then Elmer entered the room. "How's it going Milt?" he asked, quite aware of how silly Milt looked. "There's no way that wearing these clothes is going to do anything positive for the act at all, Elmer." replied Milt. "Regardless of anything your friend might have told you, even in these clothes, I don't look anything like a female assistant. However, I believe I _can_ understand why he told you they wouldn't be booing us all day. They're going to be far to busy laughing at me to even think of booing." "Why don't we see how the wig he gave me affects the image." "Oh, sure, Elmer." he replied sullenly. "Why not? I certainly can't look any sillier or more stupid than I already look." Elmer picked up the wig and slipped it carefully onto Milt's head, then stroked it a couple of times with his hands to make sure it was in place. But nothing happened. "See, I told you, Elmer." said Milt frowning as he looked at his reflection. Disgustedly, he reached up and grabbed the wig to pull it off. But it wouldn't budge. And pulling on it hurt. Suddenly Milt's knees buckled and he reached for the mirror to steady himself. "Oh shit ... What's happening? I'm starting to feel really strange." When he looked up at Elmer, a confused expression spread rapidly across his face. He was taller than Elmer and had never needed to look up at him before. He took one small hesitant step away from the mirror, before dizziness and darkness overtook him. But, in falling, he'd been very fortunate. For in passing out, he'd landed squarely in the center of his bed. As Elmer watched, Milt's silent form slowly changed. His legs and arms lost what little hair had grown on them as they rapidly smoothed into their sleek and graceful feminine counterparts. As his hips widened and his waist constricted, Elmer could see that Milt's very shape was being totally remolded, without neither pain nor discomfort apparent, into soft and shapely feminine curves even as his newly forming breasts blossomed. And just as his old friend had told him, the ill-fitting clothes Milt had put on, now fit _her_ form perfectly - just like a glove, a very small and tightly fitting glove. Elmer could do nothing more than stare in amazement at the prone female figure now stretched out languidly on Milt's bed. With the passage of a few minutes, Milt began to stir. When he opened his eyes, he saw Elmer standing at the foot of his bed staring down at him. "I told you it wouldn't work, Elmer." he said smiling. But that smile disappeared as the sound of his new soprano voice caught him completely off guard. Leaping from the bed, he wobbled on his two-inch heels towards the mirror. "Holy shit, Elmer." he exclaimed as he saw the softly rounded image staring back at him from the mirror. "What the hell did you do to me? How did you do this? Why?" "We agreed we needed a female assistant in the act. I couldn't see taking all that time to train another person, especially when you'd been so good and learned everything as quickly as you did. So my old friend, who happens to be a wizard, gave me these clothes and the wig in order to transform you into my new girl assistant - scantily clad, of course." "Oh. Of course? Don't you think you should have asked me if I wanted to be a girl?" he asked angrily as he clumsily slipped out of the heels he had trouble standing in. Then, wondering why he did, he struck a sensual and seductive pose in front of the mirror, then smiled at what he saw. "But it's not permanent, Milt. When the person who put the wig on your head removes it again, you'll change back into your normal self. If the show and you-as-a-girl are the success my old friend said they'd be, then you can be a girl for all the shows and a boy the rest of the time. It's really a very simple plan." "But I don't want to be a girl, Elmer." Suddenly, he flipped his shoulder-length blond hair out of his face, while, at the same time, thinking it was an absolute mess. "Would you try it tonight?" pleaded Elmer. "Please. You said you would." "Oh, I suppose. I did say I would." sighed Milt in resignation. "But I wouldn't have if I knew you were going to do this." Milt looked in the mirror. "I'm not going to feel very comfortable walking around a stage dressed like this. And I can't, even if my life depended on it, walk in those stupid goddamn high-heeled shoes." "Maybe there's something I can do to help you cope with those things." Elmer raised his hands and placed his thumbs on Milt's temples. He spoke three words Milt had never heard before and didn't understand, then pulled his hands "How's that? How do you feel, now?" "I feel just fine, daddy." replied Milt, shaking his head. "And you know who you are?" "Of course, I do, daddy. I'm your adopted son Milton." she replied as she effortlessly slipped back into the heeled shoes she'd all but discarded minutes before. In one fluid sexy motion she swayed back to the mirror, once again standing in front of it. "You and your friend, that old wizard from the mall, decided the act needed an underdressed, sexy girl in order to make it better. So you changed me into one to save time and effort. But once the show's over and we're by ourselves, you'll remove the wig on my head and I'll become a boy again. Isn't that right, daddy?" "Absolutely, Milt." "But there is just one more thing, daddy." said the girl. "I don't really think I look like a Milt or a Milton anymore. Do you, daddy? And I don't really even feel like a Milt anymore. You know what, daddy? I think I'd like for you to call me Miranda when I'm girl." "Of course, Miranda." smiled Elmer. "Whatever you wish." * * * * * That afternoon, just prior to the start of their performance, the emcee introduced Mr. Amazing to the audience of children and their parents. He was greeted by thunderous silence. In turn, Elmer introduced his new assistant, his beautiful young daughter Miranda, to the audience. And as she slowly and very hesitantly stepped out onto the stage, she was greeted by several wolf whistles originating from the male contingent of the crowd. Having been a male all of her life, their whistles, as well as all the attention they now paid to her, thoroughly embarrassed her. But it was the pretty girl she now was that responded to their whistles by blushing brighter and redder than the reddest beet. Just like their last performance, this one also went off without a hitch. But with little visible reaction from the audience, both Elmer and Miranda had started worrying about the impending reaction from the crowd as their final trick began winding down to its conclusion. But this time, instead of listening to the cascading sounds of boos from the audience, their finale was met by thunderous applause. They were both ecstatic. In response to the standing ovation from the crowd, they answered with three curtain calls. At long last, thought Elmer, the act was a success. And likewise, its performers, he and his daughter Miranda, had finally become the successes he felt they'd been destined to be. Over the next two weeks, as each evening's finale concluded, they were repeatedly accorded similar long and thunderous standing ovations. The joyously answered curtain call after curtain call. And, in general, whether it was the smallest of birthday parties or the largest of concert halls, nothing seemed to make a difference in the reactions from the crowd. And as a welcomed added plus, Milt rapidly learned to act his role as Miranda to near total perfection. Most impressively, he had been as quick a study in learning to act female, as he had been learning everything else Elmer had taught him. After just a few days, he no longer required Elmer's little helping touch spell to make him feel comfortable about being Miranda on stage. And now, he casually strode about the stage with such graceful feminine ease in heels he now easily wore without giving them a second thought. The basic result was, when Elmer put the wig on Milt's head, he became Miranda. And, as her and without the spell acting as a crutch, she no longer called Elmer daddy, except, occasionally, when they were by themselves. However, as their popularity continued to increase, the demands for their act, as well as on their time, also continued to grow. Milt found himself forced to be Miranda for increasingly longer and longer stretches of time. As a consequence, and because she was such a vital part of the act, Miranda soon required more clothes and needed other things than Milt did. And, not only did Miranda have more, but her things tended to be nicer and fancier as well. Milt was slowly becoming jealous of Miranda. And if it wasn't bad enough that Miranda seemed to be around more and more frequently with each passing day, there had been several times of late, when an early performance had been scheduled right after a late night performance. On those occasions, it hadn't been practical for Elmer to remove the magical wig. So instead of changing back as he normally would have, Milt had had to sleep as Miranda. But trying to fall asleep as Miranda had proven difficult for him. He doubted he would ever totally adjust to sleeping as a girl. He had tossed and turned for hours attempting to get to sleep, but in doing so he had been bombarded by sensations that felt totally strange and alien to him as the silky nighties Elmer had packed for her slid gently across her body as if to tenderly caress it and arouse her emotionally. But even those sensations, confusing as they might be, had paled in comparison to the stray thoughts evoked from _his_ subconscious that directed _his_ hand to seek out and probe various parts of _her_ anatomy. And yet, for the two of them, life had become very good. Everything went exceptionally well for them until the night of the large dinner party thrown in celebration of their closing of a television deal. On that night, a boy about Miranda's age, perhaps a little older, had accompanied his parents to the party. He had fixated himself on Miranda and had been so obnoxiously insistent about dancing with her that she had finally acquiesced and given him one dance in an attempt to shut him up. She was, as Milt had been, a truly exceptional dancer, but she was not quite used to letting her partners lead. Still, everything might have worked out alright, except, that as the music ended, the boy had tried to kiss her. And where a plain and simple kiss of friendship might have been acceptable to Miranda, the boy had already decided on giving her _the_ kiss - the one by which she would always remember him - of her life. But as the events of the evening unfolded, both of them would probably remember that kiss forever. And neither of their memories were likely to be favorable. Somehow the boy had managed to trigger Miranda's gag reflect, which no one viewed as an overly intelligent action, especially since Miranda had just finishing eating. Elmer was convinced that the boy would long remember that kiss, even if thinking about it was embarrassing. Elmer remembered an old saying that an equally old wise man had once told him, "Nothing kills one's pursuit of passion quicker than being puked on by the object of one's desires." * * * * * But the popularity of their act continued to increase and with it the corresponding time he was required to be Miranda also increased. And when their commitments to their new television show were factored into the mix, there was precious little time left for him to be Milt at all. Although Miranda and Elmer were now the stars of their own popular television series, Milt was becoming increasingly unhappy with having to be Miranda continuously for days at a time. His jealousy had long since changed into a paranoia that grew with each passing day. He was very afraid that one day Milt would just disappear completely, leaving only Miranda in his place. "You know something, Elmer." said Milt on one of those rare days they had off from taping the show. "I think that wig somehow messes with my mind. I know that everything pretty much returns to normal after you remove it from my head, but when I'm wearing it, it makes me feel really kind of ... " he paused seeking out a word to describe his feelings, "... _girlish_. I guess that's what it's supposed to do, but what really bothers me is I don't think there is anything strange or even weird about feeling that way until after I've been Milt again for a while. I really don't like having those kinds of feelings at all, Elmer." "I've been thinking about that Milt. I think that maybe we should find another boy to help you out. He could be kind of like an assistant to the assistant." said Elmer. "And then, after we've trained him, you and he could then switch off being Miranda. Do you think that would be better?" "I really don't know. I guess it might." replied Milt. "But that reminds me of something else, Elmer. There's been this guy hanging around at the last three tapings. He's been staring at me. I don't like that either." "I know. I saw him." "But it's even worse than that. I know that lost puppy dog look when I see it, Elmer. That guy wants me. Or rather he wants the me that is Miranda. He makes me really nervous. Did you know he slipped me his phone number after the taping yesterday." "I saw him pass you some note. But I didn't know what was on it." answered Elmer. "However, Milt, I do know you haven't been very happy about all the time you've had to spend being Miranda lately. And I have a feeling that this guy might be the answer to some of your problems. Yesterday, I asked him if he wanted to join the act as a second assistant, _your_ understudy. He jumped at the chance." "I wouldn't doubt it." grumbled Milt. "I don't suppose you told him he'd have to be a girl part-time. Did you?" "Of course not. I didn't want to scare him off." smiled Elmer. "I must still arrange several things with his parents. In particular, I must gain their consent before he can join the act. But the guy, his name is Phillip Watlins by the way, didn't think there'd be any problems in my getting their consent. He'll be here soon and you'll need to show Phil the basics of the act. Just don't mention any possible changes of gender just yet. We wouldn't want to scare him off before I return with his parents' consent." As he sat and waited for Phillip Watlins to arrive, Milt picked up the remote control and flipped on the television. It was already tuned to one of his most favorite cable channels - the one that showed only old science fiction and horror movies. But as he intently watched the movie currently being aired, Milt was both shocked and amazed at all of the parallels he could draw between it and his life. The story was one of a young man, an orphan born on the wrong side of the tracks, who had been adopted by a very successful psychiatrist. When the young man had told his adoptive father how uneasy he felt among his friends, the psychiatrist had hypnotized him and given him a number of suggestions aimed at negating his discomfort and making him completely at ease with his friends. But as time passed, the young man once again became discontented with his make-believe life and his father's friends. He had complained to his benefactor. At first the psychiatrist had agreed with everything his adopted son had told him. The young man, who had been ordered not to remember being put under hypnosis in his previous sessions, trustingly agreed to be hypnotized in an attempt to help him. But instead of helping his charge, the doctor supplanted his old persona with a new and stronger persona that believed he'd always been a member of the doctor's close knit circle of friends. "Holy shit!" he whispered. "That movie could almost be an exact duplicate of my life since I met Elmer. Except he used magic on me and that movie doctor used hypnosis. "And for those first couple of days Elmer used some kind of a spell to make me feel comfortable about being Miranda _and_ female." he thought aloud. "But if Elmer has that kind of the power," he hypothesized, "it stands to reason that he has more than enough power to take my existing personality and reshape or rewrite it in whatever way he wants. He could easily make me forget ever being Milt, while at the same time making me believe that I am, had been, and always will be Miranda. "Shit. I've got to get away from here before Elmer returns and makes me forget who I really am. But there's no way I'll be able to run away from here alone. I'm going to need to find some help getting safely away from here." But who? Phillip? "Maybe. But why would he want to help me at all. He doesn't even know me. Wait a minute. Maybe he won't help me if I'm Milt, but, when I think about how he ogled me yesterday, I'd wager that Phil will be a real eager beaver when it comes to helping me if I'm 'his damsel in distress' - Miranda." Milt ran quickly up to Miranda's room. He figured he could easily do one last day as Miranda - afterwards he'd be Milt again; but this time he'd remain Milt forever. He'd run away and never look back. He would probably feel guilty about using Phillip for a while, but he had to get away now before it was too late. And anyway, he just didn't have a lot of time to think of another plan before Phillip arrived. He needed time to change his clothes and put on the wig. That had to be done, as soon as possible. Otherwise Miranda might still be asleep and not ready to leave as soon as Phillip arrived. He quickly stripped out of his clothes and, with almost the same swiftness, redressed himself in clothes from her closet and dresser. Silky lace panties and a bra went on first, followed by a cashmere sweater and a woman's pair of blue jeans. As well as he could, he stepped into a pair of woman's tennis shoes several sizes too small for him. Then Milt very carefully picked up the wig from the stand on her dresser. He stared at the wig for several moments and worried momentarily that it had always been Elmer who had placed it on his head before. But in the end, Milt's paranoia won out. He stepped back to the edge of her bed, sat down, and donned the blond-haired wig. After several seconds had passed, his worries faded away as he felt the familiar beginnings of those odd sensations of strangeness that had always marked the start of his transformation into Miranda. Milt closed his eyes and leaned back slightly just as the now familiar dizziness struck causing him to pass out. * * * * * Elmer rapped sharply on the door at the address that Phillip Watlins' had given him for his parents. A tall man with short cropped reddish hair in his mid to late forties answered. "Mr. Watlins?" asked Elmer. "Yes. I'm Arthur Watlins." he answered. "Who is it dear?" asked the woman who joined her husband at the door. She was about the same age as her husband and quite attractive with shoulder-length dark brown hair. "I don't know yet, Jennifer. He hasn't said and I haven't had time yet to ask." Arthur turned back towards Elmer. "Now, who are you, sir? And what can we do for you?" "It's about your son, Phillip ..." began Elmer. "Has something happened to him?" gasped Jennifer. "Is he all right?" "He's fine, Mrs. Watlins." replied Elmer. "I've only come to ask for your consent and permission to allow him to join my act as an assistant. You see, my stage name is Mr. Amazing, and ..." "The _Mr. Amazing_ that's on television?" asked Jennifer in awe. "The one with that scantily clad young female assistant." Arthur's smile quickly faded as Jennifer gave her husband an icy stare. "Guilty." replied Elmer. "On both counts." "What can we do for you, Mr. Amazing?" "Please Mr. and Mrs. Watlins, call me Elmer." Alright, Elmer. But only if you'll call me Arthur and my wife here Jennifer. Now what was that you wanted us to do for you again, Elmer?" "I'd like to take your son Phillip on as the understudy for my daughter Miranda." Elmer told them. "But in order to do so, he would have to be away from home a lot. Except when we're taping our show, the act takes us all over the country and we could just about be anywhere at just about anytime during the year. Of course, Phillip would live with us and travel with us as he studied. And eventually, we'll work him into the act." "Now, wouldn't that be something, Jenn?" asked Arthur. "Our son ... studying with a world famous magician. Maybe even someday, he might become a world famous magician himself." "That's just wonderful, honey." sighed Jennifer before bolting from the room in tears. "Is there a problem?" asked Elmer. "I hope I didn't do or say anything to upset your wife." "You have to understand, Elmer, that Phillip is our only child. It's very hard for Jenn to think of him as being old enough to leave the nest. It probably wouldn't have hit her so hard, if we could have had more children. But running through the Tinsler family, that's Jenn's maiden name, is this terrible genetic disorder that manifests itself only after the birth of a woman's first child. After Phillip was born, a simple test revealed that Jennifer had inherited it. Since she'd always wanted a large family, the test results almost destroyed her, because another pregnancy would be fatal. But we were both relieved that Phillip had been male and would never have to suffer like his mother." Now that put a completely different light on his plans. Elmer didn't feel right or very comfortable about taking away their only child. If only he had the proper medical knowledge of this genetic defect, he was certain he could correct the problem magically. But he knew nothing about it. But after all this time, Arthur and Jennifer probably thought they were just too old to even think about being parents again. Too old? Maybe not. Elmer concentrated and spoke a few words under his breath. Now that was better. Arthur and Jennifer, who'd just returned, no longer appeared to be the fortyish couple that had asked him into their home. Instead, each, completely unnoticed by the other, had regressed in age to the twenty year olds they'd been on the day they'd been first married. And it wouldn't be long, before Jennifer would be carrying their child. But, thought Elmer, that's still a complication. It would still be her second pregnancy. Elmer thought that over for just a moment. Maybe, since the problem only occurred in the women of the Tinsler family, there was something else he could do to eliminate the problem after all. It only took another brief moment of concentration, a couple more mumbled words, and the problem was solved - forever. "Are you sure there isn't anything else we can do for you Elmer." asked Jennifer. "The two of you have done more than enough already." replied Elmer. Then he reached into his pocket. "I'd like the two of you to have these complimentary passes." "Why, thank you, Elmer." said Arthur extending his hand to shake Elmer's. "It's the very least I could do." The couple walked with Elmer to the door. Before he left, Elmer shook Arthur's hand again and gave Jennifer a little peck on the cheek that caused her to blush. As he reached his car, Elmer turned back to see Arthur and Jennifer standing arm-in-arm in their doorway. He waved at them. And they waved back. As he drove away, he couldn't help thinking just how attractive Jennifer had been. She had made him remember an old girlfriend he hadn't thought about in decades. He hoped to see her again when they used the passes he'd given them. But by then, Jennifer would probably be expecting. Deep down, he knew he would just have to forget about her. Besides, he also knew that Jennifer and Arthur Tinsler were just perfect for each other. "Oh, well." mumbled Elmer. "I wonder why I'm always attracted to unavailable women like Jennifer? Maybe it's just because I love women with long and luxuriously silky red hair." * * * * * Miranda woke suddenly to the incessant buzzing of the door bell. It must be Phillip, she thought, as she hurried to the door. "Hi, Miranda." said Phillip as he flashed that little lost puppy dog smile at her. "Hello, Phillip." "Wow. You even know my name without me having to tell you." he said in amazement. "I hope I can learn that kind of magic." "It wasn't magic, Phil." she stated. "Elmer told me your name before he left to talk to your parents." "Oh." "How would you like to take me away from here, Phil." Hoping to make him more susceptible to her feminine charms, Miranda batted her eyelashes and smiled seductively at him. "Sure, Miranda. Where do you want to go?" "Anywhere you want to go Phil is just fine with me." Again she fluttered her eyelashes. Once more she gave him a provocative smile. Phillip stood speechless. And Miranda knew, even if Milt was more than a little ashamed of that knowledge, that Phillip Watlins was hers to do with as she pleased. But just they began to leave, Elmer's car pulled into the driveway. Elmer was taken by surprise when he saw Miranda talking to Phillip, primarily because he knew how much Milt valued his time as Milt. But he could have changed into Miranda in order to make Phillip feel more comfortable in his new surroundings. Unflustered, he quickly walked over to Phillip. "Good news, Phillip. Your parents have agreed to let you join the act as Miranda's understudy. They'll let you live and travel with us as you learn." "That's fine, Mr. Amazing." replied Phil. "But Miranda and I have decided we're going to run away together." Miranda stared off into space trying to ignore what was happening. This wasn't working out exactly the way Milt had thought it would. "If that's what the _two_ of you want, I won't stand in your way." replied Elmer. "I've always wanted what was best for _her_. Just where have the two of you decided you're running off to?" "Anywhere away from here." came Phil's forceful reply. "Oh. I see." Elmer turned towards Miranda. "Have you told him?" "Told me what?" asked Phil. He alternately looked at Miranda and Elmer as if seeking the answer to his question from one of them. Miranda hesitantly shook her head, but remained silent. "So you haven't told him." said Elmer. "What's going on here? What was she supposed to tell me?" "It's quite simple, Phil. My daughter Miranda, this beautiful young girl that's standing here next to you and that you're thinking of running away with, isn't really a girl at all." stated Elmer. "She's really a boy wearing an enchanted wig that transforms him into a girl." Phil stared at Elmer in disbelief. "Right." he replied. Phil was now certain that Elmer had recently escaped from someplace with rooms having thick rubber-padded walls. "And I'm an orange and blue striped zebra." he countered. "But it's true." sniffled Miranda. "Here. I'll show you." "It's alright, Miranda." said Elmer. "I'll remove the wig for you." Dejectedly, Miranda walked slowly over to Elmer. And, as he had done hundreds of times before, he pulled on the wig. "Oww!!!!" yelled Miranda in pain. "Stop that!" exclaimed Phillip. "You're hurting her." Miranda and Elmer stared at each other, complete surprise etched on their faces. That had never happened before. Every other time Elmer had even slightly tugged on the wig, it had easily slid off Miranda's head. What was different this time, they both wondered. Suddenly, remembering something his old friend had told him, Elmer asked Miranda, "Who placed the wig on your head." "Why I did." she answered. "Then you have to be the one to remove it again." "That's right. I forgot." she said. Greatly relieved, Miranda reached up, took a hold of the wig, and yanked. "Oww!!!" she exclaimed in surprise, as once again it failed to budge. She tried again. It still wouldn't budge. And for some reason, it still hurt. It was as if it were her own hair being pulled. At that moment, from out of nowhere, the old man from Spells 'R Us suddenly appeared. Dressed in an old bathrobe, he was carrying a hat box and a large cardboard box. "I knew you'd be needing these replacements right about now." said the old wizard as he handed the two boxes to Elmer. Elmer peeked inside both boxes. Inside the costume box, he found another costume for a scantily-clad female magician's assistant. And in the hat box sat a shoulder-length brunette wig. "I think these are for you, Phil." said Elmer. He passed the boxes along to the startled young man. "Do you have any idea why I can't take off this stupid wig?" asked the distressed Miranda. "Of course, I do. It's really quite simple, my dear." replied the old man. "As I told Elmer and he later told you, only the person who put the wig on your head can ever remove it again." "But I put it on my head myself." she responded. "That means I should be able to remove it myself." For effect, she pulled on the wig, which stubbornly refused to move. "See. It won't let me remove it like it's supposed to." "But who was the _you_ that donned the wig?" "I told you. It was me." "And who was the _you_ that tried to remove it?" "Me." she answered again, her visible frustration with the old man building. "Now, young lady, instead of answering 'me' to the questions, kindly fill in the names of the _you's_ who you were each time." explained the old man patiently. "But I don't see where ..." Suddenly it dawned on her exactly where the problem lay. "Oh, no!" she exclaimed. It's because _Milt_ put the wig on my head and _Miranda_ tried to take it off my head. Isn't it? But why? We're really the same person." "Well, you are and you aren't, my dear. You know that Milt and Miranda are the same person, just as Elmer and I know." began the old man. "But the spell doesn't that you're the same person. It sees two totally different and distinct people, even though it was responsible for changing the you who-was-Milt into you who-is-Miranda. Spells like this one aren't very bright on their own, my dear." "So how do I change back?" she asked. "I don't want to be a girl all the time." "Again. It's very simple." said the old man. "You'll change back after Milt removes the wig from your head." "But Milt can't return to take the wig off Miranda's head until after Milt removes the wig from Miranda's head so she can change back into Milt." said Elmer. "That is correct." "Holy shit." exclaimed Miranda. "That means I'm stuck like this forever. I'm going to be a girl forever." Tears began to flow down her cheeks. "I don't want to be a girl forever." she sobbed. "C'mon Miranda." said Phil. "Things could be worse. Besides we can still run away together." Miranda stared daggers at Phil. "Well, if that's not good for you right now," he said, "may I take you out to dinner, tonight?" Incensed, Miranda slapped Phillip's face. "No asshole." she replied furiously. "You may not take me out to dinner tonight - or any other night." Miranda fled back into the house and the safety of her room. Phillip turned back to the old man and Elmer with a puzzled expression on his face. "Do you think it was something I said?" he asked. Elmer and Phil watched Miranda as she quickly ran to her room to hide from what she felt were their ogling stares. The old man, having seen more pretty young girls running away from him then he wanted to remember and having delivered the new clothes and wig to his old friend, had disappeared once again. "Where did that the old man go?" asked Phillip as he turned around and noticed he was no longer anywhere in sight. "Who can tell with him." replied Elmer. "It seems my old friend has always had the knack of coming and going quite mysteriously." "Do you think Miranda is going to be alright?" "I hope so, Phil." he replied still staring off in the distance after Miranda. "You know, in the time you've been with us, I've come to think of you almost as a second son." Elmer turned back to Phil, but he too was no longer there. When Phil arrived outside Miranda's room, he found the door shut and locked. Behind it he could hear her sobbing heavily. He knocked on the door. "Go away." cried Miranda. He knocked on the door again. "Please open the door, Miranda. We need to talk." "Go away." she cried again. "You don't ... can't ... understand how I feel right now." "But ..." "Maybe you should leave her alone right now, Phil." interrupted Elmer who'd entered unnoticed. "Give her some time to come to terms with what has happened." "Okay. I guess." replied Phil with concern. "But would you try and talk to her. I'm really worried about her." He turned and walked disconsolately to his own room. Elmer knocked on her door. "Miranda?" he asked gently. "Please open your door." Nothing was said, but soon the door cracked open. "Is _he_ gone?" she asked peeking through the crack. "He's gone to his room, Miranda." replied Elmer. "Can I come in and talk with you?" "I suppose so." she whispered. The door to her room swung open. Miranda, eyes red and puffy from crying, stood there silently not knowing what to say or do. "Are you alright?" Elmer finally asked. "No. Not really." she pouted. "I'm really a girl now. Aren't I, Elmer? And I don't want to be a girl." Tears began to flow down her cheeks again. "I know." "But what can we do about it?" she sobbed. "Do you think there's any way at all that I can ever be me again?" More tears followed. She sat down on the edge of her bed. "Please, Elmer, tell me I don't have to remain a girl for the rest of my life." Elmer sat down next to her. "I wish I could, but I can't." He put his arm around her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. "From what my old friend said, this is who you are now." Sobs wracked her body. She leaned into Elmer, who, not knowing what else to do, held her closely until her crying eventually slowed and sleep finally and mercifully claimed her. * * * * * The following morning, it was plainly obvious to both Elmer and Phil that Miranda still felt miserable. She was very unhappy about being a girl for the rest of her life. To make matters worse, she also knew that Elmer had never once given her a reason to mistrust him. And she began to wonder why she had mistrusted him, since, if she'd only trusted Elmer, as she should have, she'd still be able to remove the wig and become a boy again. This whole awful mess, she felt, was all her fault. And she'd never had a worse feeling than this terrible self-pity of hers. She'd had come down to breakfast dressed in Milt's clothes, which no longer fit. They were far too big for her now, although in some places they weren't quite big enough. "Are you feeling better?" asked Elmer when he saw her enter. "No. Not really." she replied curtly. Phil entered the room. "Good morning." he said cheerfully. "What's good about it?" snapped Miranda. "You don't know anything." Then she stormed angrily out of the room. "What did I say?" wondered Phil. "It's not you, Phil. Miranda's in shock and complete denial right now." Elmer tried to explain. "We tried to tell you last night that she's really a boy named Milt. There was magic woven into the wig, that now appears to be her natural hair, which transforms its wearer into a girl. But the wig can only be removed by the same person who put it on her head. That person, Milt, no longer exists now. She's a full-time girl now and still adjusting to all the changes. I suppose I could fix everything by making her forget about ever having been Milt, but that's not right. She must be the sum of all he was and all she is and will be. Given enough time, I believe she'll adapt to her new body. But how long that's going to take I couldn't begin to guess." "Don't take this the wrong way, Elmer, but what will this do to the act? asked Phil. "I know I'm not ready to take her place. I've only just started to learn what I need to know." "I know, Phil. Hopefully the act will be unaffected." replied the magician. "Milt _was_ always been a trouper in the past. We'll have to hope, that in the future, Miranda _will_ continue to be one." * * * * * As luck would have it, Miranda turned out to be the same game little trouper she had always been as Milt. Her performances in the act continued to be totally flawless, just as they had always been. But, in retrospect, with the exception of that first birthday party, she had always performed as a girl. So even if she moped around and sulked offstage, her continuing on as Elmer's female assistant proved to be no real problem at all. Jennifer and Arthur Tinsler, using their complimentary passes, had attended the first performance after Miranda's transformation. Elmer had invited them backstage afterwards, where Phil failed to recognize them as his parents, but that was totally understandable. As a result of Elmer's magic, they were now only a few years older than Phil, who knew nothing of his parents restored youth and vitality. And when that was combined with the other results, also unknown to Phil, of Elmer's magical meddling, which had transformed the man he knew as his father into the young woman Jennifer, while his mother had become Arthur, Elmer knew that no one would fault Phil for not recognizing his parents. And for similar reasons, Jennifer and Arthur didn't recognize Phil as their son. But why should they. Inasmuch as he was only few years younger than them, it was obviously impossible for him to be their child. Elmer introduced the young couple to Phillip, who he referred to as his adopted son. Neither they nor Phil flinched at the news. And of course. Jennifer was noticeably pregnant. Jennifer and Arthur were both thrilled and excited to be expecting their first child. Both of the parents-to-be had remarked how much they hoped to have a handsome son like Phil, but they'd also be just as happy to have a beautiful daughter like Miranda. * * * * * Shortly afterwards, Miranda realized that she could not continue to wear Milt's clothes around the house indefinitely. They didn't fit very well anymore and at times they were very uncomfortable. But, she also had no real desire to wear women's clothes either. At least, not offstage. She knew she wasn't ready to wear any feminine garments unless she was performing. Then she could still pretend. As a result, Miranda wore clothing that was unflatteringly non-descript and loosely fitting whenever she was not onstage. Phil's training as her understudy continued at an accelerated pace, but it would still take a few months yet for him to get up to speed. Phil learned things quickly, but his ability to learn was nowhere near the speed Miranda's had been as Milt. So Miranda continued her role without complaint in the same way she had been doing all along. With Phil intent on learning and Miranda engrossed in the act, all had been calm and for several weeks. To Elmer, it finally seemed that Miranda had finally come to accept her situation. But then, with one careless question, all thoughts he'd entertained of her acceptance of her femaleness abruptly vanished. Phil had asked her out to dinner. At the very thought of being on a date with Phil, Miranda had nearly exploded. Totally losing it, she lashed out with a lengthy string of expletives that would have made an old sailor blush. She called Phillip names he had never heard before. Phil stood stunned in silence before her tirade. He wondered what he'd done to provoke such an outburst from her. Miranda fled from the room. Elmer, feeling she would need to be consoled, but uncertain about his potential success, followed closely behind her. And in the remaining silence, Phil was left alone once more. * * * * * Phil decided to take a walk. He needed to get away for awhile and think. Upset by the way Miranda continued to treat him, he faced a difficult decision. He needed to decide whether to stay with them or leave. Whatever Miranda's problem was now, he knew it wasn't his fault. But as his need to get away and blow off steam for awhile took over, he paid scant attention to where he was walking. Suddenly, an uncontrollable urge made him stop. Looking around, he discovered he had walked to the old section of town that Elmer had told him to stay away from. He'd never explained why. In front of him stood an oddly shaped and even more oddly painted sign. "Madame Helga." it read. "Knows all. Sees all." And in very small, nearly unreadable lettering. "Potions for all occasions." Interesting, he thought. Maybe he could fight magic with magic. Maybe they had a cure for Miranda inside. But on second thought, did he really want Miranda to become Milt again. Phil entered through the beaded door. An old, white-haired gypsy woman fortune teller looked up from her cards and smiled at him as he entered. "How may Madame Helga be of help to you, young man?" she said in her extremely thick gypsy accent. "I see that you are unlucky in love, young man. Is that what brings you to Madame Helga?" "I suppose you could say that." "Perhaps it is a love potion you seek." She held out a small vial of clear, but pinkish tinted, liquid. "For that special young lady." "But isn't that cheating?" he asked her, but his eyes never left the little vial she held in her hand. Could he really get Miranda to love him? "There can be no cheating in things where the heart is concerned." replied Madame Helga. "Is not having love? ... better than ... is having not love?" "So how would this work exactly?" The wily old gypsy smiled at Phil. She knew now she had hooked him. "It is really very simple. Two drops into her drink you put. And when she drinks it completely she will be yours. She will love you forever. And for several minutes, if you tell her something untrue, she will believe you when you say it is true. And for her it will be true, both then and always." "I don't know about this. It still doesn't seem right." he replied. But there was still that other problem. "Besides, she's not exactly a girl." The gypsy woman stared at Phil as a wide grin spread across her face. "So young man, you wish for another boy to love you? That is no problem. Madame Helga can still be of assistance to you. All we need is but a different potion. She held out another vial, this one containing a bluish tinted liquid. "Is this what you want from me, young man?" "Yes ... Er, no ..." he mumbled. "Shit, I don't know." "Well, which is it, young man?" she grinned. "Do you wish for a girl to love you or for a boy to love you?" "I don't really know. I'm confused." he replied. "I mean she looks like a girl, but both she and her father tell me she's really a boy wearing an enchanted wig that only her real boyself, can remove in order for her to change back into a boy. Does that make any sense?" "Of course, young man." replied the gypsy. "All things make sense to Madame Helga. But tell me now, how does she act? Is it like a girl? Or does she act like a boy?" "A little of both, I guess." he told her. "But lately, she's been more like an angry little girl." "Tell me, young man. Does she cry when she is upset?" "Boy, does she." exclaimed Phil. "Tears fl