As we’ve already established, I read a lot. And silly you, you thought it was just for fun. Wrong! So far, these are the most plausible ideas I’ve gleaned through my research in how to get this stupid body to be what I’m telling it to be:
1) Courtesy of Starters by Lissa Price—develop some nifty computer technology to have my consciousness inserted into some young ’un’s spry body, effectively squashing their being for the greater good of my own selfish happiness.
2) Courtesy of the Animorphs series by K.A. Applegate—get reincarnated as a malicious power-hungry slug intent on taking over the human race, an achieve just the perfect level of status that I can obtain a human host. Although no way would I turn down some of them other alien forms. Hm. Maybe that should be my new goal instead.
3) Courtesy of The Host by Stephenie Meyer—uh….so this one is actually very similar to number 2…. But cooler. Duh. Plus there’s none of that every-three-days rubbish. And speaking of rubbish…
4) Courtesy of Harry Potter by do you seriously not know?—Yeah. I have indeed integrated the speech of HP into my own idiolect, including rubbish, brilliant, bloody brilliant, bloody hell, bloody blood, and mate. As in, My mate made me read all these Harry Potter books. Anyway. Magic. Need I say more?
5) Courtesy of Aladdin the Disney movie because I can’t think of any books I’ve read with genies—There’s a genie! Three wishes, I could do with some of those. None of this benevolent world peace nonsense.
6) Courtesy of The Gargoyle by Andrew Davidson—Get in a terrible car debacle, sustain serious burns over the majority of my body, and have to go through intense reconstructive surgery and therapy. Actually, I’m not sure how this would help me in the end, but it’s a freaking good book.
So there you have it. I’m still deciding among them which I think is the best. But whatever I end up going with, the end result will be that I don’t have to deal with this ridiculously stupid body of mine. Or possibly infection an extreme scar tissue, but I’ve always loved scars, so it’s a win-win. I mean, I realize it does good stuff for me sometimes, like letting me walk places and juggle baby geese and come out triumphant in wrestling matches (be ready; it’s going to happen), but still. I think if none of those options works out then I’m going to just have my body removed completely and exist as whatever intelligence/spirit/consciousness/cognitive entity exists. It’ll be great. I, for one, am rather looking forward to that.