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Casino Blues - by: Martin Y The line at the registration counter seemed endless. We walked to the far end and began our long wait. The bells, whistles, and chimes of the Casino rang through our heads as other, luckier, people gambled away their earnings. "Guess you should've listened to me when I wanted to leave early," April said. She leaned her head to get a view of the long line. "If we'd been here earlier we wouldn't have had to wait." I nodded but didn't say anything. It was the first day of my summer vacation and I didn't want to wake up early. Nine months out of the year I wake up before dawn to make it to Lincoln High School where I teach Math, the other three months I sleep in. April had an uncanny knack of sleeping in for the nine months I worked, then suddenly turning into an early riser once summer hit. One of the joys of being married, I suppose. April hauled a fistful of nickels out of her purse. "Well, you can stand in line. I've been saving these for weeks." "Go ahead," I said. "I'm going to be stuck here for an hour at least." As if in answer, the line moved forward exactly two steps. "I'll find you." April said. She gave me a quick peck on the cheek then waded into the whistling, ringing turmoil of the casino. I watched her long dark hair move away from me and into the tide of the other gamblers. I sighed deeply. April loved coming to Laughlin, loved to gamble, loved endlessly feeding nickels into the slots on the offhand chance that she might win the Big One, and all our troubles would be over. When we had first been married, I had enjoyed gambling as well, but after losing a few hundred dollars on different occasion, had gradually backed away from the pastime until now I didn't slot even a single coin. Gambling had lost its allure for me; it wasn't that I was unlucky--in fact I'd even hit is fairly big a couple of times. I just understood the method of the casino. They always won, no matter how long, or how much you tried. I would have much rather gone into the Mountains of Arizona, or out to the coast of Southern California, but for April. She'd been bound and determined to go to Laughlin for the last three months, planning and saving meticulously. All so she could blow it in a short few days. The line inched forward. I tried to locate April in the sea of gamblers, but couldn't. My fun in Laughlin would come in different ways. The Riverside Resort sported a multiplex movie theatre that was nearly deserted during the weekdays. I would watch movie after movie, a big tub of greasy popcorn in one hand, a Coke in the other, and I'd be happy. As the minutes progressed, I filed past the front doors of the Riverside. Outside a stream of picketers harangued guests on their way in and out of the Hotel. Security Guards from the Riverside escorted guests to and fro across the line, glaring angrily at the protesters. I wondered why they didn't just throw the picketers off the property in the first place. "Beauty and age should gradually fade!" I heard shouted as the door opened and closed. The signs all had something regarding beauty and age scrawled in bold print: CASINOS SHOULD NOT REPLACE MOTHER NATURE, one sign read. GOT BEAUTY? Said another. NATURE WILL PREVAIL read a third. I wondered what it was all about. "It's those new machines in the corner." Said a woman in front of me. Young, with reddish brown hair, she had freckles that dotted her face. I thought she was somewhat cute, though the number of freckles marred her face. "They just lost and now they're upset." I frowned and looked in the direction she indicated. Across the back wall a row of slots stood with a massive crowd gathered around. "What's so special about them?" I said, as we inched further along. "Age and Beauty Machines." The woman responded. "It's why I'm here." I raised an eyebrow. My students had nicknamed me 'The Brow' due to my overly expressive, bushy overhang. "Are they unusually lucky. Or have a higher payout?" The woman laughed. "No, in fact you don't bet money at all." She pointed at another booth near the registration table. I could see yet another line in front of a heavily curtained box. "It's fairly simple. You get evaluated by Casino staff and given an age and beauty rating. Then you go to the slots and use your rating as credits. After you increase your credits, you head to the cashier and you can select to improve certain things about your body with your beauty rating. Your years actually decrease as you play, becoming younger and younger with each pull of the handle. I've seen people lose thirty to forty years, becoming younger and more beautiful." The line inched forward again. "How is that possible?" The woman shrugged. "New advancements in technology, I don't know." She moved forward a few steps. "All I know is, I'm not leaving until these are all gone." he raised a hand to her face. "But what if you lose?" She shook her head. "That's not positive thinking. You don't come to a casino to lose." I nodded silently, wondering. At the front of the line I gave the receptionist our registration and confirmation number. April met me, and together we made our way to the hotel room. It was large, with firm beds, and a great view of the Colorado River speeding below us. April flopped down on the bed, and stared up at the ceiling. Her dark hair fanned out behind her. "I can't seem to win to save my life today." I crawled on top of her and kissed the tip her nose. "Maybe you'll win today in other ways." "Not now." She gave me a gentle push. "I'm here to gamble, not make out." I rolled off her and stared at the ceiling with her. "Did you know you can use age and beauty credits as money? You just enter it in the machine and when you win you can take the payout in cash." I frowned. "Yeah, I saw all the picketers at the main gate. What I want to know is what happens when you lose?" She got up and started digging in her purse. "They take years from you at the cashier." I stood up. "But how? I mean, how can they do all that, add years, magnify beauty, all that?" April glared at me. "Through this." She lifted the back of her hair. At the base of her skull, right at the top of her spine, a small gleaming socket had been placed. With her hair down, I didn't even notice. "When did you get that?" I said, a bit alarmed. Had she already been playing? Had she been evaluated or whatever that woman had said? My stomach started to feel queasy, as if I had plunged off a precipice. "I got my evaluation while you were waiting in line. You'll be happy to know I have three thousand five hundred and eleven credits of age and eight thousand, four hundred, and twenty-two credits of beauty left." "Left?" I said, a little too loudly. "Left? You mean you've already lost some?" She turned away from me. "A little. I started with thirty seven hundred age credits." "Wait a minute!" I sat down and started scratching numbers on a pad. "How many credits are possible?" "Does it really matter?" She said, her voice rising. "I lost almost two years, are you happy now? "Instead of being 23, now I'm over 25. Does it really make that much of a difference?" I stared at the stranger who had become my wife. How could she possibly be doing this to herself and why? We were happy, had our entire lives in front of us, but now through plain stupidity she had stolen two years of that life. "Of course it makes a difference!" I yelled. "What the hell were you thinking?" Her dark eyes filled with tears, and for the first time I noticed that her eye lines had deepened slightly. The difference of two years! "I just thought it would be fun to get back to the age when we were first married. I just wanted to be eighteen again and then you could win until you were nineteen and we could do all those things we used to do." "What things we used to do?" I roared. "We're doing them right now; this is our life, our vacation. What more could you possibly want?" She winced under my steam. "I knew you wouldn't understand," she said, and she ran out the door. Stunned, I sat down on the bed. Two years? How could she lose two years in less than an hour? And why would she do such a thing? Why would anyone do such a thing, gamble with their very life, lose years? I couldn't understand what had possessed her to be evaluated in the first place, much less actually gamble with her own life. She had plenty of money, so it couldn't have been that . . . I thought back to when we had been first married and I had gambled as much as she had. I enjoyed the blackjack table, detested the slots and their greedy clutches. At the blackjack table, I had loved the times when I'd been on a run, seemingly able to predict what the dealer was going to turn up, sandbagging against twos through sixes and winning, never taking insurance. It hadn't been the money I wanted, it had been much simpler. . . To win! That was what it had boiled down to. I loved the feeling of winning, of beating the dealer, of making the casino pay me rather than the other way around. And I'd sat for hours bathing in that feeling, until, of course, I was out of money. April must have felt the same exhilaration, especially when it came to something as precious as her life. The exhilaration of winning, the anticipation, the success must have been just that much sweeter. I realized in an instant where she would be going. And I had to stop her before it was too late. Leaving the room, I raced down the hall and punched the elevator button. I watched the lit numbers of the floor above the doors, waiting for them to rise, willing them to hit my floor, fourteen. It seemed to take forever, but the door finally opened. I darted inside, and punched the casino button. The doors closed slowly and started descending. The elevator stopped at three more floors, then opened on the casino. I raced out and towards the bank of age and beauty machines, trying to pick out April's head from amongst the flood of other gamblers. The Age and Beauty machines had been roped off. I leaped over the rope looking for my wife. "April?" I called rounding every corner, hoping to see her face. "April?" A security guard held up his hand. "Stop, sir. You are not allowed in this section unless you have been evaluated. Please go to the evaluation station and then you may return." "I'm just looking for my wife; I have to stop her before she does something really stupid!" The security guard shook his head firmly. "I'm sorry sir, but you are not allowed in this section. You can have your wife paged from the information booth, please leave this area now." "But I have to find her!" I started towards another bank of the 'A & B EXTRAVAGANZA' machines, but a strong hand clamped down on my shoulder and escorted me out of the area. "April!" I yelled, hoping in the commotion that she would have spotted me. Heads turned in my direction and I was shocked to see some of the visages. Wrinkled faces, deformed faces, hairy limbs, hourglass figures, gray hair, Large moles, a cacophony of people, faces, limbs, torsos all strange or changed. I hated the thought of April being among all that. "Sir, if you don't pipe down I'll have to throw you out!" The guard said, as he held me outside of the A&B area. "I'm OK," I said. "I'll be good, I promise." "Go get yourself evaluated, then you can come in and find her." He said. "Or page her from the information booth." At that moment, I saw the back of April's head. She turned and saw me standing outside of the roped off area. "April!" I called, beckoning with my arm. But at that moment the person she had been waiting for left the machine. She stared at me, tears streaming down her face, then glanced at the machine. She glanced back. "Come on!" I waved at her frantically. "Let's work this out." Accusation stared deep into my face from behind pearls of tears. Resolutely she shook her head and turned to face the machine. Slowly she lifted the cord and inserted it into the socket at the base of her skull. She pulled the handle. *** She entered the room sometime around midnight. She did not turn on the light. Her muffled sobs caused me to close my eyes tighter against the burning in my throat. I had watched her play the machine for almost an hour, but when the first streak of gray parted her hair, I returned to our room. I'd repacked all my clothes, with the intention of leaving, but at some point, I had realized April needed my help now more than ever. I'd desperately wanted to go back, get evaluated and try to convince her to leave, but I realized it would have been a futile gesture. She would have resented me for making her leave, and we would have fought with no one winning. April needed to work these demons out on her own, and I just prayed she would be able to do it before any irreparable damage had been done. I had hoped she would return a couple hours after our bout, but she had stayed down there for nearly eight hours. I couldn't imagine what she looked like, and from the sound of it, it wasn't good. "Aren't you going to ask me how I did?" She said. Her voice sounded like ground glass. "Do I need to?" I said into the darkness. She gave a short laugh. It sounded more like a bark. "I still have about twenty credits left. I could go back down and win it all back." Twenty credits. I had looked up the credit tables after returning. Zero credits was equivalent to seventy years old. One hundred credits was sixty years old. My wife left me a twenty-three year old woman and returned a sixty-nine year old crone. I cleared my throat. "How many beauty credits left?" I said in a husky voice. She switched on the light. In anguish I stared at her ravaged face and body. "None." She said with a toothless grin. Her hair had grown wild, stringy and completely iron shaded gray. He face sagged forward, her nose a large misshapen lump in the middle of her face. Her hands were gnarled, her back humped, her legs twisted. "Oh my God, hon. What have you done to yourself?" I turned her towards the mirror and stared. She brushed back a strand of hair futilely and stared at her reflection. "I've ruined my life." She said in a strange, tight high voice. I didn't like the sound of it. Then she giggled--well, cackled. "I have nothing left to gamble, and my life is over." "No." I said. "We'll do something, get the casino to pay you back, take them to court, force them to . . ." "Don't be stupid," she said sitting down on the bed. "You have your whole life ahead of you. I've just ruined mine. You need to go out, live it, away from me. ou'll find someone else, someone young, beautiful. . . ." "I had someone young and beautiful!" "But not anymore." She pushed the ragged mess of hair away from her face again. "I could be your grandmother, hell your great grandmother. No one will ever understand being with me." I took her hand, wincing against the saggy feel of it. "But I love you, I want to be with you." She laughed again, in that tight voice of hysteria. "How can you love someone who has done what I've done. Look at me, now my outside matches my inner self." I stared deep into her eyes, yellowed with age. Was it true? Was she now just a reflection of what she carried within? I remembered our wedding day, the way her hair had gleemed black as midnight against her white dress. I remembered her tight waist, her sweet mouth, smiling. I remembered how she laughed at my jokes, teased me about my uncomfortableness in my tux. Her eyes had danced. "No." I said. "I don't believe that." She stood and started to undress. "Believe what you want, do what you want. I don't care anymore, about anything. I just want to sleep." I watched her undress and slip between the covers. She faced away from me. Soon, I could hear her sobbing. I hugged her, pressing myself to her back. "Stop." I said, "We'll fix it tomorrow. I promise." In the darkness I could see her head nod gently. *** The next day, after a trip to the salon and the casino shopping center, April looked much more, well, presentable. They had rinsed her hair with something, and bound it up, spraying it in place. She had also purchased a dress in her new size, and had found a pair of dentures that fit somewhat comfortably in her mouth. The girl had also helped her with some cosmetics, so while she was nowhere near what she had been, at least people didn't cringe at her in horror. "You look beautiful," I said as she made her final twirl in front of me. "Yeah, right. I look like a bingo mama: blue hair, dentures, bad makeup, the works." "Let's go see what we can do at the casino." said. Her heavily made up face registered alarm. "Casino? But I thought. . ." I shook my head. "No questions. Let's see what answers we can get." She nodded gently, and took my hand. I wandered at the image we presented, the little blue haired old lady holding on to the had of a young man. Maybe people would think I was a gigolo. "Nature takes it's toll!" We heard being chanted outside. "It's not nice to fool mother nature!" An enormous group of people had gathered outside and were hurling shouts at the window. A cordon of casino security stood resolutely in front of the entrance, firearms ready. "I think I might start agreeing with them," April said next to me. I gave her hand a gentle squeeze. At the B&E slot entrance, a young woman handed out application forms. she had dark hair bound in a tight bun at the back of her hear, dark eyes, with heavy makeup, and a body with all the right curves. "Can I help you sir?" She asked in a too bubbly voice. "Would you like to play?" I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I would like to know if you can purchase B&E years and credits back. My wife lost heavily . ." "As you can see." April added. " . . .last night and we would like to purchase them back. I have a mortgage, with a fair amount of equity . . . The woman's head shook severely. "I'm sorry sir, but B&E credit can not be bought or sold. It _can_ be traded though." "So if I were to undergo evaluation, and awarded a certain amount of credit, I could transfer some to my wife?" "Yes sir, although you can only do it along same sex lines. We have gender specific ratings, as well as machines." I didn't like the sound of that. "You mean I can only give her credit towards the male end? That her beauty would be enhanced in the direction of a male. not female?" "Correct." The woman nodded, still smiling. But age credits have no gender specificity. You could transfer any amount of age credits to your wife and she would become younger, but without the benefit of the gender specific beauty credits." "So I can be a young ugly woman, instead of an old ugly woman." April said. "Exactly, well, erm. . ." The woman stammered, obviously not knowing the politically correct way to handle the situation. I see." I said. "And if I wanted to win my wife's beauty back, how would I go about doing that?" The woman looked around carefully, then leaned closer towards us and said in a conspiratorial whisper:" I'm not really supposed to say this, because we try not to advertise this, but you _can_ play the female beauty machines." Realization came flooding through me. The woman continued. "If you were to be assessed a relatively high beauty score, as I'm sure you will . . ." She smiled at me suddenly, "You could transfer most of that to your wife, then take the remainder and play the feminine machines. As you win, you would become more female, then when you have won enough to your satisfaction you can both exchange the B credits to each other and live happily ever after!" I nodded slowly. April tugged at my arm pulling me away. "We'll talk it over." She said to the woman. "I can't let you do this for me." April said, when we were safely ensconced in an alcove. "Why don't you just ask that young woman out. She's beautiful, and sexy, and I don't like the looks she's been giving you. You two can have the life we always wanted, and I can be your grandmother. You can come to see me on Sunday's and take me out for ice cream." I shook my head firmly. "No. That's not what I want at all. I love you and I'm sticking by you." She slapped me firmly on the arm. "Get over it! I'm done, my life is over. I don't want you to risk yours for me!" I took her hands firmly in mine. "April, when I said the words for better for worst, from now till I die I meant it. I'm not about to go dancing into the sunshine with someone else, nor give you the opportunity to wallow in self-pity. I am going to get your youth and beauty back, or I'll die trying." She shook her head slowly. "And what if you end up like me?" "Then we'll be that cute old couple who still make love after all these years." She raised an eyebrow. "Don't forget, you'll be playing the feminine machines. We'll be that cute old couple, but both women. You have quite a bit more to lose than you think." I hadn't realized that. I glanced back briefly towards the dark haired woman, already helping another person into the evaluation chamber. She had friendly eyes, and a great body, and she seemed happy. Why couldn't I just go for it? Then I looked back down at my now gray haired wife. And I knew my answer. "Come on." said, pulling her away. "I've got to get evaluated." *** You'll be happy to know I have five thousand four hundred and twenty- one credits of age and Ten thousand, seven hundred, and seven credits of beauty." "Wow." I said, looking up at the dark haired woman. "Is that high?" She grinned, showing me perfect white teeth. "Very." She helped me up from the chamber and over to April, who stood with a frown. "Now can I transfer them to my wife?" I said. The woman's brow wrinkled slightly. "Yes, but you'd have a greater chance of winning if you keep your credits." He voice deepened and became huskier. "You could win the body of your dreams." "Or I could lose it remember? No I want seven thousand beauty credits, and twenty-five hundred age credits transferred over to my wife immediately." The woman's lips tightened into a thin line. "You realize with that many credits transferred over to her, it will effectively transform your wife into a man?" I blinked in shock. Did I really want to do this? The woman was practically throwing herself at me, and soon I would have a husband for a wife. I looked over at April who was pulling her bottom lip, trying to seat the store bought dentures more firmly in place. "Yes, I understand. We will be able to transfer them back after I'm through though, correct?" "Yes." The woman said, to quickly. She ushered April to a second table, hooked her up, then typed furiously at the keyboard. "Last chance to back out." The woman said. I shook my head. "Do it." I said. The woman slammed her hand down on the keyboard. *** "Now, you know what to do." April said. "You start with the beauty credits, you stop on eight thousand, or if you go below fifteen hundred, is that clear? Not a point more or less." "Yes dear." I said. My voice was much softer and rougher. I had aged about thirty years, and had quite a paunch around the middle. Of course that was nothing compared to the changes in April. "After that you work on age, and stop if you dip below seven hundred, or five thousand." "I will. What type of body do you want me to build? Same as you had? He looked down. April was now a man of about forty-five, with dark, wavy hair, a strong chiseled chin, and a heavily muscled torso. He looked as if he could have been my present son. "Anything is better than this." His eyes, got a crafty look. "I'll let you build the one you want, the body of your dreams. Just realize you'll be the first one to wear it!" He grinned, and started to hug me. At that moment, I pulled away. I just couldn't react the way he wanted me too. He sensed the reaction, and stopped. "You can't hug me like this, can you? I'm not really your wife anymore." "Uh..." I didn't know what to say. "The whole situation makes me uncomfortable." "At least the gal from the desk won't want to jump your bones now. She might break a few." I laughed and stood up. "Whatever the outcome, I expect you back in our room by 11:30 tonight. If you haven't reached either goal, you can try again tomorrow." "Okay." I said. We looked into each other's eyes. I wanted to hug him, give the wife inside of him a goodbye kiss, but just . . couldn't. stuck out my hand. "You think that after being married for five years, and kissing you goodbye every day, that I'm going to let you off with a handshake?" He grabbed my upper arms firmly, and planted a kiss on my lips. I shuddered. "There. You go an have a nice time now." I looked around the room to see if anyone had noticed. The woman at the desk was already interviewing another candidate. "I will." I said. "And stay away from that. . . ." e looked towards the woman at the desk. "Very attractive woman." "I think she forgot about me when my age went passed fifty." He smiled, and left. I walked towards the machines. Each one was clearly labeled, AGE, or BEAUTY. The men's beauty machines were, of course, black, and the women's a bright pink. I approached the first pink machine and inserted the card into the back of my head. I heard a _click_ and immediately felt a slight tingle of pleasure accompanied by a melody. "That's a woman's machine sir." security guard said nearby. "Yes, I know." I said. The man gave a faint mutter under his breath, but walked away. I made my first bet. Fifty credits. I could still pull out. It would be difficult, and I would probably be fined, but I didn't have to do this. I looked over at April, he was chatting amicably with the woman from the desk. He noticed my stare, and he gave me a grin and a wave. After all, April had a lot of weaknesses. She had a short temper, had a hard time staying on any job, and fretted needlessly about the most inconsequential things. We lived in a two room condo, and she wanted a bigger one, but I was satisfied with the one we owned. She wanted to move to another city, but I liked our town. She had bought a fancy sports-car, I liked old trucks. So much different yet, so much in common, Same views on kids, same religion, and most of all she still laughed at my jokes. I pulled the handle. Images blurred past. The first reel stopped on a single bar, second on a double bar, and third on a cherry. I glanced at the payout scheme and saw, one cherry paid even money. I heard a bell chime softly and felt a tingle in my right hand. It grew slightly more smooth. Even money. Nothing should have changed. But then I realized it was even money, I had replaced with feminine points. Sighing, I rebet the same amount and pulled. Images blurred, and stopped. Single bar, double bar, single bar. Nothing. My had returned to it's normally hairy appearance. I re-bet again, and the images spun. Cherry, Cherry, Cherry. Bells chimed, lights whistled, and the points grew exponentially, stopping on 200. I watched as my hand turned feminine again, the nails extending, the fingers becoming slimmer. Again I pulled, and won. My other hand changed. Time and again I pulled. My winning increased, and my body changed. At one time, after I had lined up three triple bars, a screen popped up: You have won over fifteen hundred points! Please choose a section of your body you would like to improve. Next to it, I saw a feminine outline. There were several buttons, hair, bust, hips, waist, legs, shoulders, and posterior. I clicked on legs. Immediately the image shifted, the legs became more shapely, and the point total descended. Then I clicked on breasts, and the image expanded. A second screen flashed up: CUP SIZE? What size breasts should I give her? I loved the way she looked, but I've always been a breast man. I clicked on 'D'. Immediately, the point total, filed back down to zero. At the bottom of the screen another button popped up. "EXECUTE?" I clicked on the button, and was rewarded with a flash of pleasure as my body conformed to the image on the screen. I looked down at the breasts hanging down from my front. They were very large, and I wondered if April would really like them. I decided to try to find and ask him. I looked up, searching for him, but he had left. I looked towards the desk, and noticed a handsome man had replaced the dark haired woman. "Oh well," I said, and returned to the machine. *** I returned to the room at 11:30. I used my key to open the door, and went inside. I found it deserted. April had apparently found something else to occupy his time. I walked over to the mirror and stared at my reflection. Luck had found me at the slots. Looking back at me was a young woman, about five feet eight, with long flowing blonde hair that curled naturally. My face had a slightly upturned nose, deep green eyes, and full lips. My breasts hung uncontrolled under my baggy t-shirt, full and round, my skin was soft and smooth, my legs, long and inviting. I had wide hips, and a well tucked fanny. I appeared to be around twenty- Five, but I knew my age to be at exactly twenty three. My beauty score was around 15k, and my age at 7500. One drawback of the body had been my feet. I had been forced to use the casino's readily available stores to purchase a pair of high heeled shoes. Apparently, beauty required high heeled shoes, I couldn't walk flat footed anymore. "April?" I said in my high musical voice, and checked the bathroom. Not there either. I wanted to spend as little time as possible in this body, however until April showed up, I could do nothing, I lay back on the bed, kicked off my heels, and propped my head up on a pillow. I turned on the television. "Police have confirmed that as many as sixteen hostages were taken today at the Paramount Casino in Laughlin Nevada. Citing body manipulation, genetic engineering, and false advertising, the kidnappers have secured the B&A gaming machines with submachine guns, and strapped explosive devices all around the area." I sat up straighter. The Paramount was the casino next door. "The gunman want all the Casinos in the Laughlin area to stop using the body sculpting machines and so called "youthenators." They want the government to step in and seize all non-licensed machines and shut down operations entirely." Somewhere in my stomach, a butterfly revolted. "Every effort has been made to secure the area. The hostages have been tied and bags placed over their heads. They say that unless the government meets their demands, they will begin executions in one hour, starting with this man." On the screen came the face of a young man with black wavy hair. April! *** "I'm sorry miss, but you'll have to stay out of this area." A large policeman stood directly in front of me as I tried to gain entrance to the Paramount. "But my wi. . .er--my husband is one of the hostages." I said, hating the shrill sound of my voice. "He's the one on TV, the one they want to execute first!" The policeman frowned and stared down at his clipboard. "I show a Mrs. Nichols already in the command center. All next of kin have already been notified, are you sure your related?" My heart trip hammered in my chest. How could this be? Who would say they were Mrs. Nichols, when in actuality, Mrs. Nichols was right now being held hostage and I was _Mr._ Nichols, body notwithstanding. "Please let me through and I can clear this all up." "I"m sorry lady, but my orders are specific. The SWAT team is just about to make a move and everyone has to clear the area." I remembered a trick my Aunt pulled anytime she didn't get her way, especially with men. I started sobbing, much of it real tears. "Please, you don't understand, I _love_ him so much." I started crying huge tears, overemphasizing my distress and allowing plenty of cleavage to show. "We've been married for five years and now his life may be ending. Please let me in, I'll do anything!" The effect was working. I saw the policeman adjust his collar and look furtively around for someone else to help. The crowd behind me was starting to agree, saying things like 'let her in for God's sake, her husband's in there!' The policeman finally relented and showed me to the command center in the lobby of the Paramount. There, dozens of people talked in loud voices. Video screens showed the inside of the casino where the gunmen held the hostages. The casino itself appeared to be deserted. Just a glimpse or two of a gunman walking through the area. Why had April come here? But I knew the answer to that question, she couldn't help herself. But who was the _other _Mrs. Nichols? I knew the answer to that momentarily. "Captain, this lady states she is Mrs. Nichols and that her husband is about to be executed." The policeman said. A silver haired man stood, surrounded by others facing a large video screen. Images of the A&B section of the Paramount Casino played on the screen, April stood in the foreground, blindfolded, as one of the gunmen held a nasty looking firearm to his head. The Captain turned and faced me with a frown. "I thought we already had a Mrs. Nichols in attendance." The man spoke with a heavy southern accent. Did this guy have two wives?" "No, I can tell you the whole story after a while if you'd like, just save my. . . " "I've never seen this woman in my entire life!" Another voice interrupted. I spun and saw the woman from the entry! "What are you doing here and why are you telling them you're his husband?" I said walking towards her. didn't like the way her eyes flashed. "Captain, are you going to allow an imposter to disrupt these proceedings? She could cause quite a--" She looked me up and down, "distraction to you and your men if you know what I mean. I'm sure she's just some hooker out to take advantage of this situation." The captain shook his head. He waved his hand towards me. "Get her out of here, I don't have time for this." Three other officers nodded and glared at me. I stared at the dark haired woman. "Why are you doing this? You know exactly . . ." "Out!" she shrieked. One of the policemen held his arm up. "Miss, if you would please leave the premises and let us do our jobs . . ." "That's it!" Came a voice from the screen. "Time's up!" "Dammit!" The captain said. "I was hoping for a couple more minutes. SWAT teams, on my mark!" The gunman leveled his arm at April. I could see tears leaking from underneath the blindfold as he shook in terror. "Now!" The captain said. On the screens, I could see armored officers flooding into the casino. They quickly took up positions in and around the slot machines surrounding the gunmen. "Take him out!" The captain roared. Gunfire erupted. Chaos ensued. Men shot at each other and ducked for cover. The gunmen leaped into action shooting towards the SWAT team, and trying to angle themselves back towards the hostages. The hostages were quickly surrounded by officers who forming a human shield around them, as gunmen tried to rake bullets through, but the SWAT team had used an overwhelming force. My eyes were drawn to one screen, to the exclusion of all others. As men fought and died, all I could see was the one image on that screen, an image I knew would be burned into my memory forever. 'The image of April, lying on his back, blood pooling around his head.' Tears came again, only this time they were for real. *** Previous to the gun battle and after seeing April taken hostage, I had immediately wanted to be on the scene. The only problem was, that unless I held on to my waistband, my pants would have fallen down to my ankles, showing off my new, ample posterior. I had made it from the casino to the room, but anything farther than that and I would need new clothes. Taking the elevator down to the shopping areas, I found a boutique open for business, but unfortunately, they sold dresses of the only sheerest silk. I didn't have time, April was in the hands of the gunmen, so I had asked the clerk to help me find an appropriate size. Due to my rather large front and rear and my thin waist, the only dress that would actually fit was a floral print chartreuse thing that barely covered in all the right places. Combined with my disheveled hair and heels, I looked quite the tramp (even though the dress cost nearly two paychecks!). Now I waited--in the tight silk dress--in the main waiting room of the hospital to see if my wife would pull through. The shot had penetrated the back of her skull; the bullet lodged in her brain, yet she was still alive when they rushed her to the hospital. I'd been forced to drive myself, going back to our hotel room and finding the keys to the car. _She_ rode in the ambulance, a look of terror on her pretty face. When I arrived, they had just taken April for emergency brain surgery, to see if they could remove the bullet without killing the body. I wasn't allowed in the primary waiting area; that was reserved for immediate family and spouses. I still had not been able to confront the dark haired woman. The confrontation was coming, I could feel it. I could not fathom why the woman had usurped my position--well, April's position. Obviously they had left the hotel together and gone to the Paramount to gamble. The television had shown a younger version of April, evidence he had been winning. What possessed her to go against our plan? And why would someone pretend to be something they weren't? Furiously, I paced the waiting area--or tried to pace. The stupid heels kept slipping on the cement floor. A young man sidled up to me. He had short blonde hair and clear blue eyes. "Everything OK?" "No, everything is not OK. My wi . . .husband is in there undergoing major brain surgery and they won't even let me in to see him." "That guy on TV, the one that got shot. He your husband?" "Yes, well, sort of." The man laughed. "You can't be 'sort of' married. Either you are or you aren't. It's like being sort of pregnant." I stopped pacing. I really didn't want to talk to this guy, who obviously only wanted to get into my proverbial shorts. "We aren't 'sort of' married. We _are_ married, he just wasn't my husband when I married him." They man frowned. "I don't get it, but it certainly sounds like an interesting story. Can I buy you a cup of coffee while you tell it to me?" He held out his hand. "My name's Roger." I thought for a moment. Roger would think I'm nuts if I told him the whole story, plus what benefit would it have? I'd still be stuck on the outside, she'd still be considered his proper wife--until April came around anyway and I would still be stuck as a woman until we could sort things out. On the other hand, I didn't have anything better to do and it might clear my head. "Stephen . . .um, Stephanie Nichols." I held out my hand. He shook it gently. "The cafeteria is down the next hall. I think they'll give us a cup. Shall we?" He held out his arm. I walked forward without taking it. "Sure." *** The coffee turned out to be hot, but it tasted like the inside of a Bunsen burner. We sat at a table for two in one corner. A few people dotted the area at different tables as the crew cleaned up from dinner. "Bleah." I said sticking out my tongue. "This tastes terrible." "Hospital food. Gotta love it." He said. "Now, how about you start from the very beginning and tell me everything you've been through. Then I might be able to give you some help." I sighed, staring at him. He leaned slightly forward, earnestly listening to my every word. I recognized the position; he was hoping to score. He'd be sorry soon. I launched into the story, explaining about our wedding, our married life, her gambling, changing, my agreement and effort to get her back. Our coffee was cold and untouched when I finished. At some point in time he had leaned away from me. "You mean, you're really a guy? Stephan Nichols? And in there is April Nichols?" "You got it bub." "But why would that woman impersonate you? or I mean her, or I mean . . .well, you know." "I have absolutely no idea." He sighed deeply and looked at me with narrowed eyes. "You realize of course that this whole thing is illegal, that you aren't allowed to play cross-gendered machines. She should never have suggested it." Shock ran through my body. "Illegal? How. . . .why?" "The state department won't allow cross-gendered gaming. Analysts had a field day six months ago when these machines first came out. Said that if it's used for cross-gender purposes it defeats the efforts of psychologists everywhere who force trans-gendered people to follow a strict series of guidelines before they get reassignment surgery. They're supposed to spend a year living as a woman, or man, go through a battery of tests, gradually progress through the stages etcetera. By removing those safeguards, the casinos have jeopardized that process and could do serious psychological damage. Not to mention situations like you are in now." "But a security guard challenged me and allowed me to continue! If it was against the law, why didn't they stop me?" "I don't know, but I think your casino is in a load a trouble when word of this gets out. I sense your 'dark haired woman' is not all she seems. In fact, I wonder if she works for the casino at all." "But what about the security guard and the pit bosses who allowed me to keep on playing?" "Like I said, you're really in a bind." He pulled forward. "If I were you I'd contact the casino as soon as possible and see if it can be reversed. At least you'll be back to being male, although in your older body. What they did was illegal and if it comes to light, they could be in serious trouble. It's in their best interest to reverse this." He stopped for a moment and looked out the open window. "Unless. . ." "Unless what?" said, startled to hear the hysteria in my voice. "Unless they deny the entire incident and bury it. You have no way to prove you allegations, do you? And with April shot, the other woman impersonating her--or you--or whatever, they can claim you're just off your rocker and get the hell out. You wouldn't have identification, no where to go . . ." He looked into my eyes. "They could effectively make it so you never existed." I shuddered. "Then what am I going to do?" He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. Funny, not too long ago I could make the same face. "Better hope April comes around intact. She--I mean--he is your only hope, the only one who will corroborate your story." Unintentionally this time, I started to sob. "Hey look," he said. "If it's any consolation, _I_ believe you and I'll stay with you until you find out April's status. Then I'll help you to get past this, okay?" I nodded, sniffling into my napkin. "And I run the bar over at Sam's Club," he said, handing me a card. "If you end up staying here a while and need a job . . ." "I have plenty of money and don't need that!" I snapped. "Well, it sounds like things have been changing around you fairly quickly. If you need the help, give me a call." I regretted my frustration towards him. I nodded. "Maybe they have some news on your . . .spouse," he said, rising from the table. I followed him out into the main waiting room. He found a nurse, said some quiet words with her, pointed in my direction. She looked down at a clipboard, then motioned him to follow. He beckoned me with his hand. "She said the on-call doctor can answer any questions you might have. I told her you were related, but not how." I nodded and allowed him to lead me. My mind seemed numb, unable to process all the information I had just received. What if I was stuck like this? What if April died? What would happen if I couldn't convince people who I was, what had happened? My stomach started to roll over and dots invaded my vision. My breath came short and I staggered a step. Roger was quick to grab my arm. "Are you okay?" "Yes. Just a little lightheaded." "I can imagine." We followed the nurse into yet another waiting area. A doctor wearing scrubs soon entered. He wore round glasses and seemed too young. "Well Miss, I see you've had quite a fright. How did you say you were related to the patient?" I stammered, not knowing what to say. "He's my cousin." "Well, your cousin is still in surgery for the time being. We don't know the extent of his injuries, but we do know the bullet lodged in his brain. The doctors are trying to repair much of the damage, but I'm afraid it was quite extensive." "What does that mean?" I said in a quiet voice. "It means, we don't really know. He has had an extensive brain trauma. He could lapse into a coma, he could have severe, permanent disability; his speech, memory, and physical ability could be impaired. But rest assured, April is standing resolutely at his side." I shook my head. "When can I see him?" "It will be a couple of hours before he is out of surgery and then he will be in the ICU for a number of days. After he has been stabilized, he will be moved out of the ICU and other family members may visit. I suggest you go back to your hotel. Mrs. Nichols will, I'm sure, call other family members if there is any change." "Is it possible to see this, April Nichols?" I said. "I would like to speak with her if I may, let her know where I'm staying, etc." "Of course. I will let her know you are here and send her out immediately." "Thank you doctor." "Oh, I'm not a doctor, just an intern." He smiled and his face turned a bright red. He turned and left. Damn, I needed out of this form. I was too much of a target. "What do you think?" Roger said, leaning up against the wall. "I think I want to talk to this bitch and see just what the fuck is going on. I've gone this far for April and now April is fighting for her life. I want to know just what part this bitch plays in all of this." "I'll stand around the corner and listen in. Maybe she'll be more forthcoming if she thinks your alone." "Thanks Roger, for all your help." "No problem. I was just hanging around anyway." I wondered what he'd been doing in the hospital, but decided against opening another conversation. Down the hall from where the doctor left, a door opened. She walked towards me as if she had every right to be there, every right to steal my life--hell, steal my wife. What could she possibly gain from all this and why ? As she came closer I noticed something else. She had dark hair, similar in style to April's and as she approached, I noticed she'd undergone a few more changes since I last saw her. She smiled, stepping up to me. She spun in place, as if she wanted me to admire her dress. My mouth hung open. The stakes had gone up yet again. "Just what the hell do you think you are doing?" I finally said. "It's nice to see you again too, Stephen," April said. *** "Why are you posing as my wife? What can you possibly hope to gain?" She giggled. So much like April it hurt. The way she smiled and moved, all exactly like my wife--only the wife I married five years ago not the person I'd arrived with. Somehow she had copied her body to the last detail. "Stephen, I'm surprised at you. Don't you recognize me?" "I recognize you, but I also know who you really are--that bitch from the A&B slot counter. Somehow you have stolen my wife's appearance." "Oh, Stephen, Stephen, you really have no idea what is going on do you." She shook her head a little. "Do you remember when we were first married; our wedding night? We agreed to not tell anybody something, do you remember what that something was?" I cold hand of dread stole over my insides. I felt like my stomach was about to erupt onto the hospital floor. I couldn't answer her, I was frozen in place. "Cat got that pretty tongue of yours?" She waited, eyes dancing merrily. "Need a reminder?" I shook my head slowly. "We didn't make love. Remember? We _both_ had headaches. And we swore we'd never tell anyone because we'd never live it down." "April could have told you that, it doesn't prove anything." I said softly. "No?" She paused. "Ask me something only your wife would know." I thought for a moment. We didn't have many secrets, or little intimacies like other couples. I taught math, she worked in a lab near the University as a technician. We didn't see each other much, hadn't wanted children, or at least I didn't . . . "What was your position on children?" I said. Her smile evaporated. The glint left her eyes. "Well, that _is_ a telling point isn't it. What do you want me to say, dear husband. I wanted children but you didn't. And rather than talking it over with me so we could make an informed decision, you took that decision away from me. You went and had your little tubes cut, so that I would never even have the opportunity." Tears stood out in her eyes. I hadn't realized how deeply it had affected her. We _had_ talked about it, but I didn't want children. I didn't want the responsibility of bringing new lives into such a world. I'd gone to the local Planned Parenthood, snip snip, and the argument was over. "I thought I had made myself clear when we were married . . ." "Of _course_ you made yourself _clear_!" she said, suddenly vehement. "_Crystal_ ! and now when I finally _do_ something about it, the bastard goes and gets shot!" Realization came crashing through my body. This whole time. "You mean, this whole thing has been an act? You getting old, me going through this. . .," I waved a hand down my body. "I'm sorry, dearest husband, but your version of your dream girl does not . . become me, if you know what I mean," she said dryly. "But I did this for you! So you could get your body back!" She gave a sour smile. "Never lost it dear husband. What you saw was all an act. I had things arranged since before we left, way before we left. I found someone I was willing to spend the rest of my life with, someone who _wanted_ children and we decided to put on this little act for you. That wasn't me who came to our room in the guise of that old woman, that was him." "How could you know I'd go through this with you?" "Simple, my dear, you did and probably do, still love me. He was rather old to begin with, we simply traded with an even older woman and when you transferred all of your glorious age points to him, he became what I wanted plain and simple. Then, while you were . . .ahem . ..we went to the Paramount where I won my beautiful body back." She stopped for a moment, looking out the glass window into the darkened parking lot. "Then came those stupid extremists and now look where we are," she said. Her shoulders slumped forward. I didn't know if I should try to comfort her, be enraged at the thought of her betrayal, be sad at my loss, or be gratified at her foiled plans. "How did you expect to pull it off?" She smiled. "Did you get a good picture of the man who was shot?" "Yes, I saw him on the TV monitor. Your body . . .well, I mean his body, with blood pooling under the head." She shook her head. "After leaving the casino, the casino had the body reverted back to it's 'true form,' for surgical purposes. They want to make sure each body is free from any extraneous causative influences. Since he hadn't been through the checkout procedure, they reverted him and me less than five minutes ago." She motioned for me to follow her through a doorway. We walked up a narrow flight of stairs into a viewing chamber above where the surgery was taking place. Below, a massive amount of people worked quickly on a patient covered in a gown. Strangely, the eyes of the face were open, staring back at me. My own face! "Oh my god," I said softly. "You don't know the half of it, husband dear." "How can . . .why . . .what to you plan to get out of this charade?" April turned to me, her eyes lowering with hate. "You see, my dear there are many people in the world who will do things of a, shall we say shadier nature, for a price. It was a price I was more than willing to pay." "What price and how could possibly afford this on our salary?" I blurted. I felt hands grip me gently, but firmly from behind. I turned to look and saw Roger holding tightly in his muscular arms. "It wasn't money they were after, my dear." I felt the sting of something bite into my neck. The world fogged over. *** I woke to find I couldn't move my arms. Where was I? What had happened, and why were my arms . . . Realization came burning through me. I remembered all the incidents of the past, being changed, the hood, Roger . . . "Welcome back." A voice said near me. Bright light from an open window forced my eyes closed. I tried to see who was speaking, the voice sounded familiar somehow. "I'm certain your a bit disoriented, but that will wear off before long. An aftereffect of the process after all." Process, what process? Where was April? I tried to speak but my voice wouldn't work, just heard a harsh whisper. "You voice is currently on the nix, I'm afraid. It'll come back momentarily." I saw a blur off to my left. The world swam in colorful blobs as my eyes adjusted to the light. My arms, legs, torso, and head had been strapped down. I fought against the bonds for a moment, then gave up in frustration. The only thing I noticed was that I was once again male. "You see when April called us we quoted her a price for the services she was about to receive. She was only to happy to pay, apparently she was a little . . .frustrated with you marriage. Did you have any idea?" "Nug." I said. "Didn't think so. " The voice had a southern twang. As my eyes finally focused I could see a man standing in front of the window facing away from me. He wore a white jacket and whit pants and his hair shone silver in the sunshine. He turned around. It was the police captain. "Ah, I see you faculties are fully functioning again. You know who I am." "Yugh." I said. "I am--actually-- the Chief of police here in Laughlin. It's my duty to oversee all the operations of my city." The chief walked around to me, stared down into my face. He had very blue eyes. "I became involved with an investment corporation who brought in the Age and Beauty Machines. Very lucrative! You'd be surprised how much someone is willing to pay just to achieve their original appearance. People show up, they are evaluated and their entire body is coded into the computer, every measurement, every dimension, all balances. We know exactly how long your nose is, how wide your dick is, the precise pigment in your skin and hair, the length of your fingernails, hell--we know the exact length of every hair inside and outside your body." "Arrugh?" I said. "How can we do this, you say?" He grinned for a moment. "Quantum Physics my boy, quantum physics. You see, most computer systems you know of today use principals based on properties of electricity. Some very intelligent people discovered a way to create a computer based on a completely different set of principals: quantum mechanics. This computer, as I understand it, exists in all dimensions at the same time. It computes, stores, runs programs, etc with each process in a separate . . .oh, call it a Universe, then it recombines the information and gives the output in this Universe. Do you understand?" "Nugh." "Neither do I. They say you can't even _look_ at the process, the actual computation without disrupting the whole kit and caboodle. Way over my head, hell way over most folks head. But the fact of the matter is, it works and one of the processes is to readjust the body; change someone's appearance, make them younger, or older. It matters little to the investors which way you go, it costs nothing to go either way; old, young, beautiful, ugly, male . . " He stared at me for a moment. "Female." Butterflies churned wildly in my stomach. They invaded my hands and arms. I felt my face flush with fear. "The strange thing is, people come here, they win or lose at the slots, then pay huge amounts of money to return themselves to their original condition when they first started. You'd be surprised at how many old men come in here, become young, live for awhile, only to return and have themselves reverted back. Sure, some folks are sincerely happy with their new appearance or age, but more than forty-five percent of them come back and pay to have themselves reversed. Quite a sweet deal, wouldn't you say?" I didn't respond. "Yes, quite." He sat down in an armchair near my head. "The only problem is what happened last night. You saw those gunmen, that was no act, they wanted this shut down and would do anything, including suicide, to achieve their goals. They have been on TV, in the newspapers nationwide, hell, worldwide by now and all the attention has now become focused on my machines." He exhaled loudly. "Which means the government will now be aware of it, and they'll start their little debates, which will become huge debates and soon I'll be restricted and won't be able to change someone's hair color without some type of intervening red tape bullshit standing in the way. This group is very dedicated to making sure this happens; they don't want to change nature's course, yadda yadda yadda. You heard all the objections at the Casino I'm sure." I nodded. "Good. Anyway, when your wife called and stated what she wanted--to get you out of the way and change her little friend into you so she could go have babies, I told her in return I wanted you. She agreed, and here you are. You are mine to do with as I see fit, isn't that nice?" "No." I said clearly. "I didn't think you would appreciate the situation." He leaned towards me until I could smell his mint breath. "Let's make a deal, what do you say?" "No." I said. "I want my life and body back." "Of course you do and I'm willing to give you the life you want with some slight modifications, of course. You see, you are no longer Stephen Nichols and I'm not going to let you be Stephen Nichols ever again. Do you understand that, do you understand I have that power?" "No." "Come on, Stephen!" He stood up and walked away from me, the turned around. "You're intelligent, a teacher, a math teacher. You have to see that I can, well, I _have_ changed all your fingerprints, right? That when we first record your body the computer assigns you an identity tag so that if you ever want to be reverted you can still achieve your original form. You have to see that since I own the computer, I can _change_ all those original identity tags as I see fit can't you?" "Yes." "Which is what we've done. Now I'm offering you a choice as to which identity tag you would like to have." He walked to the back wall. A large computer monitor took up about half of the upper portion, with a standard keyboard on a stand in front. The monitor sprang to life under his fingertips and a male body quickly took shape in outline. On the far right side of the screen numbers started scrolling furiously. In the top left hand corner I saw my name. "Nichols, Stephen J. Here is your original pattern, which we have recorded onto the unfortunate young man who took that bullet. We can do some amazing things with technology, but a bullet in the brain is a bullet in the brain." "You mean . . . ," I said. He turned towards me, a sad look on his face. "I mean that less than an hour ago Stephen J. Nichols, husband of April L. Nichols nee Holiman died as a result of his injuries. We did everything we could to help you, but you passed away quietly in your sleep." He typed something on the keyboard. The screen changed. The word: DECEASED stood out in bold across the outlined body. "Your wife was more than a little pissed off at us, but a deal is a deal. She is now a widow. I believe she said something about going back home, putting her life back together and finding someone else who wanted children. You had a nice life insurance policy, so I'm sure she won't lack for suitors. She wished you the best of luck, by the way." "No!" I roared. "You can't do this! I'll go back, I'll tell everyone! I'll let every news agency in the world know what is going on here." "Umm Hmmm." He said quietly. He started typing on the keyboard. "How much credibility to you think you might have?" "They'll listen if I pester them enough, you piece of shit." "Yes, well, I thought we might be able to make a deal." He finished typing then pounded one last key. The screen changed, the dimensions altering as I watched. A beam of lavender light speared out of the ceiling and, starting from the feet, made its way up my body. On the screen I could watch the progress. My feet became much smaller, legs scrawny with knobby knees as it passed my groin a vagina formed, and I groaned loudly. "Yes, my dear, this will be your new form." The body on the screen continued to progress. My waist became extremely thin, with my pelvis standing out sharply. Every rib that past under the beam stood out prominently, small flabby breasts sprang out on my chest. I lost track of the screen for a moment as the beam ran across my face. When it finished, I looked up at the screen. A woman stood there, in outline dimensions. Race: African, Age: forty-five, Sex: Female. Distinguishing characteristics: Long time addiction to crack cocaine. Profession: Prostitute. Name: Delilah Morgan. "So how are you feeling Ms. Morgan?" He pulled a lever on the far wall. My table slowly righted itself in front of a mirror. I saw a woman on the table, dark skin, long ragged hair. It seemed like my skin was pulled to tight over my face and body, every bone could be seen. When I opened my mouth to speak I could see I was missing a number of teeth. "You can't do thith to me." I said in a voice like ground glass. "Oh, indeed I can." He paused looking at me carefully. "Are you feeling the need yet?" Slowly a deep craving came over me, an insatiable desire for . . .something. "Yeth, whatever it ith, pleathe give it to me. I got to have it now." He laughed. "Oh, I'm always impressed with the results of this marvelous machine. You actually are addicted to crack cocaine, that's the need you are feeling right now. The beauty of this is you are addicted for the rest of your life. There is no breaking this addiction. No treatment will work. You will be a crack addict for the rest of your life. Goodbye Ms. Morgan, I hope you enjoy your . . .pastime?" He laughed again and walked to the door. He held it open for me. "You are quite free to go." "Okay, I get your point. You'll leave me like this unleth I do what you want, right?" He nodded, still holding the door. He had a sly grin on his face. "Are you ready to listen to me now? I think I'll leave you as Ms Morgan until we finish so you can fully realize the effect of that addiction." I nodded and sat back down on the table. He shut the door carefully and plopped down in an armchair. "Would you like anything? A pepsi perhaps?" "No, you bathtard. You know what I'm wantin' right now." "Even you vocal pattern has changed. That's not something we can't program in, by the way. We can't make mental adjustments