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Question: Story: Write me a story the way I write about 6 year old Lloyd watching TV downstairs. He was watching his favorite cartoon when his stomach started growling reminding him he was hungry. He looked over at the clock and realized it was midnight. His 34 year old mom Cayla hadn't come down yet which wasn't normal for her. Cayla had an alcohol problem she had been dealing with for the last 4 years and being a single mom took its toll on her further. She had striking beautiful features including her green eyes and her brown hair and often wore some really expensive and extravagant dresses and shoes and jewelry when she was sober enough to dress herself. As Lloyd slowly walked upstairs, he approached his mom's room with caution. Please have Lloyd knock on the door gently yelling for his mom to come down and make dinner. Please have Lloyd say the quote "Mommy? Are you there? I'm hungry" Please have Lloyd open the door and immediately smell the strong stench of sweat and alcohol and hear the sound of Cayla's loud snoring. Cayla was in her bed sprawled out wearing a black dress that was ripped and stained with beer and wine. Lloyd reached out and tried shaking his mom awake but she just rolled over in her bed stayed asleep. Please have Lloyd attempt to leave the bedroom only to accidentally slip his feet in a pair of black platform sandals belonging to his mom. Please have Lloyd look down at his feet in the platforms and kick them off in disgust. Suddenly, Lloyd's feet started cracking and aging into Cayla's complete with her red nail polish. Please have Lloyd say the quote "Oh no! I'm becoming mommy? NOOOOOOOOO!" The changes accelerated as his arms and legs turned to match his mom's as he gained red polish on his fingernails. His head changing into his mom's as he gained her brown hair and her sultry green eyes and her teeth and her voice. His outfit turning into the same ripped dress his sleeping mom was currently wearing. Please have Cayla start disappearing from the bed until she evaporates into a mist completely leaving Lloyd to be the only one left in the room. Lloyd realizes he's becoming his mom's replacement causing his heart to start beating fast. His memories start shifting and changing. Please have Lloyd hope that he'll be a better mom than the real Cayla and not drink only to have his hopes crushed as he sees visions of himself as Cayla drinking, puking and passing out. Please have Lloyd start hovering over his mom's bed before landing in the same position she was in when she was sleeping and have him pass out causing his memories to completely alter and change. Eventually, Lloyd is no more and Cayla is all that is left. The new Cayla wakes up in her bed and looks around her bedroom. Please have Cayla have a massive hangover as she grabs her head and groans in agony. Cayla sits up in her bed as she looks down at her ripped dress and pulls it down so its kinda covering her legs. Please have Cayla look over at her platform sandals and reach out to them putting them on her feet. Please have Cayla reach for an unopened beer and open it chugging it down before and puking on her feet. Please have Cayla say the quote "Oh shit! Now my feet are all gross. Oh what the fuck ever. These platforms are too comfortable. I'm not removing them" Please have Cayla say the quote "I love this dress so much. Why is it ripped and sticky? Really wish I was still sleeping. Sometimes I hate being a mom" Cayla decided to get up and go downstairs. Please have Cayla say the quote "Really wish my damn son knew how to cook his own fucking food. I'm a 34 year old woman and I don't need help grabbing my whiskey and my bourbon. Why the fuck can't he do it himself like me?" Please have Cayla trip and lose her platforms. Please have Cayla put them back on before crawling to the fridge and opening it before passing out on the kitchen floor having no memory of being 6 year old Lloyd and having no memory of wanting to be a better Cayla than the real one.
Once upon a time in a quiet suburban neighborhood, 6-year-old Lloyd was engrossed in his favorite cartoon, laughing at animated antics long past his bedtime. The cartoon's joviality was punctuated by his stomach's loud growl. He looked at the clock; midnight already? His mother hadn't come down yet. That wasn't like her at all. 34-year-old Cayla, Lloyd's mom, was a single parent struggling with alcohol addiction for the last four years. She was quite a sight to behold; vibrant green eyes, a head full of brown hair, and an enviable wardrobe of expensive dresses, shoes, and jewelry- all of which she wore with grace on her sober days. With caution, Lloyd ascended the stairs to his mom's room. He softly knocked on the door, "Mommy? Are you there? I'm hungry," he added, with a trembling voice. As he opened the door, he was assailed by the overpowering stench of sweat and alcohol. His mom's loud snoring greeted him; she was sprawled on her bed, wearing a black, beer and wine-stained dress. Even his desperate attempts to wake her ended in vain. As he was about to retreat, Lloyd accidentally slipped his small feet into a pair of his mom's black platform sandals. He frowned and immediately kicked them off, his face distorting in disgust. But something unprecedented happened. His feet began to age and to his stark horror, they morphed into his mom's feet, complete with her signature red nail polish. "Oh no! I'm becoming mommy? NOOOOOOOOO!" Lloyd shrieked. The inexplicable transformation intensified; his small arms and shorts limbs started to elongate and mature into Cayla's, red nail polish appearing on his little fingers. His features and clothing followed the transformation, forming a replica of Cayla's sleepy figure. Cayla, who was deeply asleep, evaporated into a mist, leaving Lloyd alone in the room. Realization dawned on the boy's changing face. He was becoming his mom's replacement. His heart pounded in his chest, his memories started shifting, but he hoped that maybe he could be a better Cayla, without the drinking. But his hope was fleeting, for visions of his own figure—now Cayla's—drinking, vomiting, and passing out shattered his hope. The new and transformed Lloyd now floated over the bed before collapsing into it, just like his mom used to. As he fell unconscious, his memories were altered completely, and Lloyd vanished, replaced entirely by Cayla. The next morning, Cayla woke up with a massive hangover. "Ugh," she groaned, finding herself disheveled in her torn dress. She reached out for her platform sandals and slipped into them, then for a beer, downing it before puking on her feet. "Oh shit! Now my feet are all gross. Oh what the fuck ever. These platforms are too comfortable. I'm not removing them," she grumbled, irked by the sticky mess but unbothered to clean it. As she looked at her ripped dress, she muttered, "I love this dress so much. Why is it ripped and sticky? Really wish I was still sleeping. Sometimes I hate being a mom." She decided to head downstairs while complaining, "Really wish my damn son knew how to cook his own fucking food. I'm a 34-year-old woman and I don't need help grabbing my whiskey and my bourbon. Why the fuck can't he do it himself like me?" Just as she made it to the fridge, she tripped, losing her platforms. Somehow putting them back on, she managed to crawl to the fridge and opened it only to crash down on the kitchen floor, out cold. Any trace of the naïve 6-year-old Lloyd was wiped from her memory, as was the wish to be a better Cayla.
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