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Gender Reassignment

Awake, for the dawn is almost upon you. And when it’s sweet light falls upon your face, it shall be in the form of a postcard from Stu Heritage, a man so many of us miss dearly. Though he’s gone only for a short while, complete lack of contact is simply more that most of us can bare.

We don’t have to though, because he’s sent another note. This one’s from a gender reassignment center gently tucked away in the rolling hills of unknown Spain. He says:

Dear Readers,

I miss you all so.

Well at the H-Spray I only get two week off every three years, so I decided to use this time to find the body God clearly intended, but forgot to give me on the day he was issuing out fleshy assignments.

I’ve always craved purses, not wallets, and dresses, not trousers. The right underwear I’ve actually been wearing for some time now, so there’ll be no big changes on that front.

Also, from now on if you could all address me as Gabrielle that’d be totally teriff.

Yours in editing,

Gabrielle Heritage

Of course we can Stu Gab, of course we can!