The nice thing about video games was that when you were playing them, you didn’t have to think about anything else. They were a great distraction from all kinds of things: finals, relationship troubles, the formless, nebulous malaise and general distaste with oneself and one’s appearance which, of course, just come naturally with being a guy in his twenties. Or teens, for that matter. Point being, there's nothing like a good video game after a hard day to dull bad thoughts. Not that I was that depressed or anything. Sure, I’d had some days where, despite being told I was an all-around decent-looking fellow, I could barely stand to look at myself in the mirror, but that didn’t mean there was anything actually wrong with my life. All in all, my life was pretty good. I had good friends, parents who were wealthy enough to put me through college, I had some hobbies, I was smart—at least, I’d been told I was; a lot of people expected a lot from the ole noggin, no pressure though, right? haha. Plus, there were video games. They were cool. I was a man, too, which was alright. I mean, obviously it afforded me advantages in life and stuff, so that was nice, or whatever. 

What was really, nice, though, was just getting to spend a casual evening, shooting aliens or building vast expansive empires or doing some other video game thing with Tony, the best goddamn friend a guy could ask for. He was just about the only friend from my highschool days I’d kept and, to be honest, the only I’d really actually wanted to keep. That had turned out pretty easy when we were both accepted into the same university, then breezed through our freshman year together as roommates. And no, we didn’t get that lucky, it was a specific case which the school allowed so long as both parties requested the other—also so long as both parties were the same gender, obviously it wouldn’t have worked if one of us were a girl or something. Not long after we started school, we met Will and Rachel, and formed ourselves a proper friend group, got ourselves a house, a couple years went by then bam, Tony and me chilling on the couch playing video games. 

He’d been uncharacteristically quiet on this particular evening, though. I could sense something was up with him; which, considering something had also been up with me lately—nothing specific, just that general malaise I mentioned before—kind of made the whole ‘playing video games as a distraction from reality’ thing kind of hard. It was growing increasingly difficult to ignore and, once a suitable lull came up, I broke down and paused the game. 

“Alright, dude. I can’t stand seeing you all mopey like this. What is it?” I asked. Tony stayed quiet for a moment, then sighed a morrose sigh.

“I just, I dunno man. Shit’s kinda weird. I guess we can talk about it; wanna grab us some beers first though, bro?” Fuck, he sounded really down, honestly. Obviously I’d need to cheer him up.

“‘Course, I think we’re almost out though. There should be one can left of that IPA you like though, I’ll grab that for you and whatever else is left for me.” I gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, crossed to the kitchen, then opened the fridge. And damn, we really were almost out of beer, just two left actually. Luckily one of them, indeed, was the IPA Tony liked. Snagging the cans, I returned to the couch, setting his down on the coffee table. 

“Thanks, Brody,” he said, then popped the tab.

“Course, bro.” I gave him a little grin, trying to lighten the mood, then popped my own can’s tab, only for the damn thing to explode all over me. “Fuck!” On cue, Tony’s glum facade crumbled as he burst into uproarious laughter. “Are you fucking shitting me? This whole thing was a bit?” I shouted as I leapt from my chair and rushed to the kitchen to avoid making a mess of myself or my surroundings.

“Of course it was, dude. How else was I gonna get you to fall for such an easy one? I even goaded you into giving me the non-shaken can. I fuckin’ 4-D chess’d you, bro.” That smug asshole couldn’t even stop laughing long enough to finish his sentence, and I had to admit, he had gotten me pretty good. I should have been more on my guard, though, Tony’s reputation as a prankster was legendary. It had kind of even rubbed off on me, to the point where Will and Rachel had forced us both to set ground rules for our ongoing prank-war, lest things escalate out of hand. He’d also roped me into his fair share of pranks on our other friends too, though I typically didn’t go out of my way to fuck with anyone else unless it was Tony’s idea first.

“Okay, you got me. Now come clean all this shit up,” I called, tossing the emptied can.

“Hell, no, you fell for it, bro,” he shouted between whooping laughter.

“Ah-ah.” I shook my finger chidingly at him.

“Fuck, are you really gonna d—”

“Page two, section a, subsection b of the Prankneva Conventions state that if emotional manipulation is used to instigate a prank, the prankster must clean up the mess, not the prankee.” My tone was a perfect blend of condescending knowitall and mocking asshole. Actually, those were basically the same thing weren’t they? “So unless you want to be tried as a prank-war criminal—”

“Ugh, fine, I’ll clean it up. Let me get the cleaning supplies, also give me your shirt so I can wash it.” He trudged over to the kitchen, then held out his hand expectantly. Suddenly I felt pretty on the spot.

“Uh, actually, I’ll handle the shirt later,” I stammered.

“Of course, you and your embarrassment with taking off your shirt.” Tony rolled his eyes, and snagged some sanitary-wipes from under our kitchen sink.

“Like you’re any better.” I huffed.

“Well, yeah, but I have a good reason.” At least I wasn’t the one put on the spot anymore. 

“Bro, this isn’t the 90s anymore. You’re like kind of chubby, nobody cares. Now is the era of thicc-thighs and dad-bods.” I mimed a beer belly for effect.

“Well, I don’t wanna have a dad-bod,” he snapped. Clearly the conversation was over.

“Alright, fine. Sorry, I guess I wouldn’t really want a dad-bod either. Now, having some thicc thighs and ass, though.” I raised my eyebrows, slapping my own ass as Tony guffawed, then resumed cleaning. A few minutes later we were back on the couch, and I had acquired another, non-shaken can of beer—Tony had hidden the rest of our beer, of course. We hadn’t started playing again yet, and I could tell just by looking at him that Tony clearly wanted to say something, but—at least looked—hesitant to bring it up. Naturally, I was a little skeptical.

“Alright, what’s your game now, dude?” Best to assume the worst first than be on the receiving end of Tony’s next scheme.

“No tricks this time, bro. At least, not on you. I’m for serious, I’ll even invoke a ceasefire.” This was no joke, then. Tony certainly didn’t want to be tried at the Prague—which is the prank-Hague, not the city of Prague, we didn’t realize they were spelled the same until after the documents were drawn up, okay? 

“I’m listening,” I said with casual interest.

“So um, remember that time in high school. It was really funny, like hilarious. We talked about how, uh. Like how we both thought it would be cool to see what it was like to be girls for a while?” Of course I remembered. It wasn’t everyday that one reveals such an embarrassing secret. I’d only admitted it because of how much I trusted Tony. Imagine my delight and relief when he totally felt the same way. Honestly, I think we were both pretty relieved. I can’t speak for Tony, but imagine my surprise and delight upon finding out that this wasn’t unusual at all, and it was just how all guys felt?

“I remember, yeah.” I said, trying to mask my incredibly piqued interest. 

“Well, I was just thinking, April Fool’s is coming up. And after last year...” He visibly shuddered, not that I could blame him. Last April Fool’s, for the first time ever, Will and Rachel had done a prank. They’d put their heads together perfectly, and meticulously each set us up on a date, with each other. That’s what we got for trusting the friends who treated our shenanigans with eye-rolls and generalized disinterest. “Will and Rachel have basically put a target on their backs. So I think we should get them this year.”

“What does that have to do with the conversation we had in highschool?” Inside my head, I was screaming Just get to the fucking point already, god. Honestly, I had no idea what had gotten me so worked up. It was just a silly fantasy. It’s not like I still wanted that. Or, at least, now I had it more under control, anyway.

Tony leaned in, eyes gleaming conspiratorially. “Well, the other day, Will made some off-handed remark about his cousin’s fiancée's best-friend being a wizard. A wizard who just so happened to specialize in transformation magic. So anyways, using my expert research skills—”

“You fuckin’ stalked him on social media, didn’t you?”

“Shut up. Let me finish.” He waved his hand dismissively. “So I track the guy down, right? That’s where this gets real good. I come up with some sob-story about me and my friend being transgender women who are being gate-kept super hard by magical bureaucracy—”

“That’s kinda messed up, dude. That’s like a real thing trans people have to go through.”

“Well, yeah, I know that too. N-not that I know much about trans people or anything.” He flushed red.

“W—Yeah. M-me neither.” 

“Anyway. It’s not a big deal, alright? I paid him a lot of money, plus like. This is the kind of thing he wants to do with his magical career and stuff. So really, we’re giving him valuable experience in turning people into girls, so when he has to do this on people who actually need it, he’ll be really good at it.” That was a good point, better to mess up turning two regular dudes into girls than to mess up when helping actual trans people.

“I guess that makes sense. So wait, does that mean…?”

“Yeah, dude!” Tony whooped, standing out of his chair and brandishing two vials of clear liquid. “This shit is pure fuckin’ injectable girl juice, my guy.”

“Wait, why do we have to inject it? It’s magic, right? Shouldn’t it not matter how we—”

“Eh, don’t think about it too much.” He pointedly looked over his shoulder at our room’s fourth wall for some reason, then returned his gaze to me. “So what do you say, wanna see what being a girl is like?” 

As much as I wanted to say yes, something was bothering me about all this. “So wait, what’s the prank though?”

As though he’d just run smack-dab into a wall he’d never so much as thought to look for, Tony’s eyes bulged, his mouth opened and closed several times, and a weird, throaty noise just kind of leaked out of him for several moments before he managed to snap himself out of it and respond. “Uh, the prank? It’s that we’re girls, right? Haha funny. Like, we tell Will and Rachel that we’re girls actually and want them to start calling us girl’s names and we want to wear girl’s clothes and stuff. But, like actually, we’re guys.”

Well, that was a start. “So then, do we tell them on April Fool’s Day that it was a joke?” I asked. Sometimes with Tony it was best to use leading questions.

“Uh, sure!” He nodded vigorously for a few seconds too long. 

“You didn’t really think this through, did you?” 

He visibly deflated. “No, not really. Was it that obvious?”

That, at least, earned a slight chortle from me. “Kinda was, dude. But, um, doesn’t this whole thing feel kinda mean-spirited? Like, disrespectful to actual trans people?” 

“Maybe a little.” If he was deflated before, now Tony seemed practically punctured. And I, too, suddenly realized that if I weren’t careful I might somehow talk him out of—“Look if you don’t wanna do it, I—”

“No, I wanna do it,” I blurted. “I just... Maybe we can like, donate to a trans charity or something?”

Like that, all the air blew right back in. Tony’s face lit up with that classic irresistible, infectious smile of his. “Fer sure, bro! That’s a great idea, moral dilemma solved. Take that you stupid fucking trolly!” He punched the air in front of him, miming an explosion where it connected with nothing—but, presumably, was supposed to have connected with the aforementioned philosophical trolly? At the very least, he had a creative solution. Nonetheless, I couldn’t help still feeling a little nervous, and glum about the whole thing. I mean, yeah. I wanted to see what being a woman was like, obviously. But like, then what? Just turn back after a couple weeks? Sounded kinda depressing, actually.

“Yeah, I guess. I dunno, though. This still feels kinda bad. I mean I definitely want to. Maybe I’ve just been feeling kinda blegh in general lately. It's hard to explain. I guess I feel like there’s this kind of formless wrongness about my life that I can’t place? All feels very, I dunno, myopic?” I glanced up at him for guidance.

“I don’t think myopic means what you think it means.” Look at mister smart guy over here. Couldn’t even think five minutes ahead and suddenly knows what myopic means.

“Oh, what does it mean?” I totally, definitely didn’t let any of my annoyance at not knowing the word show in my tone.

“It means like, short-sighted? Or lacking perspective, ignorant of broader context and implications? Or, something like that,” Tony explained.

“Huh, you’re totally right, that doesn’t describe me at all.”

"Definitely not, bro, you clearly know yourself and what you’re about super well. Anyway, I get that you're feeling down and stuff. Trust me, I can relate. But this'll be fun! We'll make sure to not take advantage of anyone. Since classes are still remote, nobody besides Will and Rach even need to know. It could be another excuse for us to hang out, too! We can have like, meetings together to keep one another in check. But also—oh shit—what if we turned this into a competition? See who can prank Will and Rach the hardest." I had to admit, a great prank and a competition? That was hard to resist. Then there was also the whole being a girl thing, but obviously any guy would jump at the chance to do that. My competitive streak already itching, I threw out the first idea that came to mind.

"Okay, so you mean like, whoever they're more surprised isn't actually a girl at the end wins?" I offered.

"Aw shit, I love that idea dude!” Tony threw an exaggerated fist pump. “I'm gonna kick your fuckin’ ass at being a girl."

I grinned. "Alright, you're on."

“Cool, so we're gonna give this a try?”

“Fuck yeah, bro. It’s gonna be the best prank ever. And I’m gonna make a way better girl than you.”

SapphicSounds

Hello my lovely readers! I warned you this was coming, so I hope you're ready. Things only get eggier more totally straight cishet dude-ish from here. Are you aching for more now rather than later? Well guess what? You can read all of this story on my Patreon right now for as little as $2 a month. You'll also get a bunch of other stuff. Like, for example, patron exclusive bonus chapters (and smut), audio readings of some of my steamier works, access to my official discord server and (and I can't stress enough how valuable this last one is) Pictures. Of. My. Cat. Ziggy. There's a bunch of other cool stuff over there, but we'd be here all day if I listed it all.

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