Your New Dealer

"Is this my original body?"

The man looks away from the wad of cash he was counting to throw you a mocking glance."

He taps his cigarette on the small, glass ashtray sitting next to a pile of paperwork he brought out for you to fill out. You'd been given this man's number by a friend of yours. You'd told your friend that you felt trapped in your life but couldn't see a way out, and she'd told you that this man could you give you a new start. You assumed he was some sort of drug-dealer, or a passport falsifier, but after reaching out to him you learned that his services were a lot more unusual than what you had imagined.

"Of course not! I'm in the business of switching bodies, why would I stay in my original body?

You look the man up and down. He's of average stature, grossly overweight, and had deep wrinkles etched into his face.

"Heh, don't give me that look, kid. Different bodies come with different skills, y'know? Different brains are good at thinking in different ways, and being this guy gives me a good head for business, literally!"

"Besides, it's kinda nice being a greaseball. Back in my old body I used to be real neat. Spent a lot of the time in front of the mirror getting things just right before going anywhere. But now? Now I just roll out of bed, slap on some deodorant, throw on whatever, and I'm good to go."

"Alright, money's good. You finished with that survey yet?"

He takes the last of the paperwork from your hands and looks it over.

"Good. Come back tomorrow at eight, I'll have a guy for you you're just gonna love."