The Swap by Paul
It was an equitable transaction. I received a hundred thousand dollars, a house worth many times that, and the transfer of all my student loans and credit card debt. Mrs. Godfried received my body. One has to give something to get something.
I was 22, and you might say I still am. It's a desperate age of crushing pressures and expectations, as university ends and the rest of life is supposed to begin. Launching successfully into sustainable independence felt impossible with the burdens I had to carry. I mention this not for sympathy, but so you can understand how fortuitous it felt when I received the offer one day through the modeling agency I had a part time gig with. It was all very formal and courteous, and the CEO of my agency himself reached out to assure me he knew Mrs. Godfried and her offer was legitimate.
Mrs. Godfried, you see, was not an attractive woman -- not by any means. One could fairly call her physically repulsive. Her eyes were too far apart, which gave her nose the impression of being unnaturally small. Her mouth was slightly crooked, and when she smiled her teeth seemed too large for her mouth. One of her ears was noticeably lower than the other, and her face was pitted with acne and acne scars. Her hair was thin and scraggly despite her young age, and her rotund figure did her no favors either. There was also her abnormally strong body odor, which her expensive perfumes couldn't fully conceal.
She had no trouble marrying, her inherited fortune saw to that. She had a great deal of trouble with feeling loved. She had even more trouble with loving herself. I guess it's not easy to love yourself when every glance in the mirror makes you cringe. It could also be that she was too vain by nature, or that we all desire most what we can't have, but at any rate it was none of my business.
She had money and wanted beauty, I had beauty and wanted money. Dr. Zeit had an experimental brain transplant procedure he was dying for a chance to try on human beings after his successful animal trials. It was a perfect alignment of interests for the benefit of all.
There were affairs to arrange. This procedure wasn't exactly approved by the government, so our legal identities would have to be swapped along with our bodies. Mrs. Godfried transferred all her assets except my fee and the house into escrow, for herself to recover under my identity. Her husband divorced her and announced his engagement to me. My affairs were much simpler, I was happy for the opportunity to escape my controlling family and the only things I needed to transfer to my new identity were my cat Tuffy and my ThePhilosophyForum.com account.
No doubt all these machinations were very mysterious and suspicious to observers. When you're doing something nobody would believe if you told them outright, you don't have to be all that careful about covering your trail.
The big day arrived. It was just after Christmas, like a present from that procrastinating uncle who always mails it the day before the holiday. It was snowing gently, enough to make the world feel peaceful but not enough to make my drive to the clinic difficult.
"Welcome," Dr. Zeit greeted me with a smile and a firm handshake. He was a confident, well-groomed man in his sixties. "Today I'll be carefully extracting your brain and storing it temporarily in a proprietary life-preserving fluid while your body goes on life support. We'll make sure everything's perfect on both your end and Mrs. Godfried's end, then we'll take a break and come back to patch your brain into your new body tomorrow on a good night's rest."
"Will it hurt?" I queried, half-joking.
"Not a bit," he promised. "And you'll be right as rain and out of here tomorrow evening. Just ask my last patients!" He giggled softly and pointed to a metal cage in the corner, where a pair of macaques with shaved heads and stitches looked back at me impassively.
Doctor Zeit was true to his word. The procedure was painless outside of the brief poke of the needle for the general anesthesia, and I awoke truly a new woman.
You might imagine it'd be difficult to suddenly be ugly after being a model. You might imagine I'd regret my mistake and wish for my old body back. You'd be wrong, this isn't that kind of story. I never enjoyed my beauty. All the male attention was an exhausting annoyance, I had no interest in sex. The female envy was a problem too. I could never be sure who really cared about me and who was just there for my beauty. Now, any friends I make with this body are true friends indeed.
Coming home to my new house, a house adorned with all the taste and soul of another woman, was more jarring for me than my new body. I reminded myself that I could sell it soon. I made a quick meal for myself in the kitchen, filled Tuffy's dish and then went to bed.
Almost as soon as my head hit the pillow, I found myself back in my old bed in my old studio apartment. I got up, flipped on the light and went to the mirror -- where I saw my old face. My head was shaved and there were stitches from the surgery, but there was a wig on the counter and I put it on.
It's only natural, I thought. A vivid dream of my old body on my first night in my new body. Now it's a lucid dream too.
I don't get a lot of lucid dreams, but when I have one I like to have some fun with it and act out fantasies. So I put on some clothes and walked down the street to my bank -- hey, my fantasies needn't be the same as yours. The teller greeted me with my old body's name and gave me that annoying little leer men always give women who they wish they were making love to. I had him transfer the entire three million dollars in my account over to Mrs. Godfried's account. It was a satisfying way to declare that I no longer cared for my former body, my former identity. It was the woman everyone would be calling Mrs. Godfried -- well, Ms. Godfried now that the divorce is final -- she's the one whose interests I needed to look out for, not that discarded husk I used to wear.
Transaction complete, I exited the bank and started walking home. I did kind of miss that little studio, no matter how much better my new house was, but that's perfectly natural on the first night.
I was almost there when a car drove slowly past with a drunk young man leaning half his torso out the passenger window toward me. He whistled. At me. That distinctive two-note glissando, I'd heard it too many times before. I kept my back to him, but I was fuming so deeply that smoke must've been coming out of my ears. This would be the last time I'd have to endure that humiliation. This body, this magnet for unwanted attention, was no longer mine.
Why wait for the dream to end? Why not destroy this unwanted beauty here and now? It'd be symbolic, a chance to cast it off while awake in a dream instead of while asleep in the hospital. I read on the internet how a mixture of bleach and the drain-unclogging crystals under my bathroom sink could cause permanent disfigurement. In my dream I mixed up a bowl, held it over my head in front of the mirror, and with quiet satisfaction turned the bowl over to end that beautiful face forever.
The searing, burning pain was more sharp and vivid and real than anything in any dream I'd ever had. I found myself suddenly sitting bolt upright in bed -- in Mrs. Godfried's bed, now my bed -- in a cold sweat. The pain was gone, but the fresh memory of it was horrific.
Could something so real have been a dream? My reason told me of course it was, but something deep and primal within me couldn't accept that and demanded I make sure. I reached for my phone and quickly logged in to my bank, Mrs. Godfried's account. And there it was: the three million I'd sent myself had just cleared.
How could such a thing happen?
Perhaps consciousness isn't entirely in the brain? Could a small part of my consciousness have remained in my original body, or could there have been a sort of imprint or echo left behind? Perhaps while Mrs. Godfried's brain slept, her quiescent brain activity gave that latent part of myself an opportunity to assert as the dominant mind again.
Something wasn't quite right, and it was gnawing at the back of my brain. Light, I realized. There was a bit of light coming under the bedroom door. I opened the door cautiously and saw the light was coming from the kitchen.
I have a spatially organized mind, no matter which body it's in. I remember where things are and I notice when they move or change. When I stepped into the kitchen, I sensed at once that something was wrong. A few seconds later I identified how. The bread box had been opened and the cover was fastened in the opposite direction from how I'd left it that evening. The toaster had been moved a few inches. A knife had been removed from its scabbard.
Quietly drawing another knife, I paused to listen intently for any sound that might betray an intruder's continuing presence. There was no such sound. I soon confirmed that no valuables were missing, and located the missing knife in the dishwasher. The evidence suggested, however absurdly, that an intruder had broken in to make a sandwich and then left.
It struck me all at once. How could I not have guessed before? While I'd slept, my new body's latent personality had asserted itself in the same way I'd emerged in my old body while she slept. Mrs. Godfried, dullard that she was, had woken up in what was now rightfully my body and had used her time to make a midnight snack.
It's been forty hours since this realization. That's forty hours of coffee, energy drinks and a couple of caffeine pills. I dare not sleep, for when I sleep Mrs. Godfried will take her revenge.
I was 22, and you might say I still am. It's a desperate age of crushing pressures and expectations, as university ends and the rest of life is supposed to begin. Launching successfully into sustainable independence felt impossible with the burdens I had to carry. I mention this not for sympathy, but so you can understand how fortuitous it felt when I received the offer one day through the modeling agency I had a part time gig with. It was all very formal and courteous, and the CEO of my agency himself reached out to assure me he knew Mrs. Godfried and her offer was legitimate.
Mrs. Godfried, you see, was not an attractive woman -- not by any means. One could fairly call her physically repulsive. Her eyes were too far apart, which gave her nose the impression of being unnaturally small. Her mouth was slightly crooked, and when she smiled her teeth seemed too large for her mouth. One of her ears was noticeably lower than the other, and her face was pitted with acne and acne scars. Her hair was thin and scraggly despite her young age, and her rotund figure did her no favors either. There was also her abnormally strong body odor, which her expensive perfumes couldn't fully conceal.
She had no trouble marrying, her inherited fortune saw to that. She had a great deal of trouble with feeling loved. She had even more trouble with loving herself. I guess it's not easy to love yourself when every glance in the mirror makes you cringe. It could also be that she was too vain by nature, or that we all desire most what we can't have, but at any rate it was none of my business.
She had money and wanted beauty, I had beauty and wanted money. Dr. Zeit had an experimental brain transplant procedure he was dying for a chance to try on human beings after his successful animal trials. It was a perfect alignment of interests for the benefit of all.
There were affairs to arrange. This procedure wasn't exactly approved by the government, so our legal identities would have to be swapped along with our bodies. Mrs. Godfried transferred all her assets except my fee and the house into escrow, for herself to recover under my identity. Her husband divorced her and announced his engagement to me. My affairs were much simpler, I was happy for the opportunity to escape my controlling family and the only things I needed to transfer to my new identity were my cat Tuffy and my ThePhilosophyForum.com account.
No doubt all these machinations were very mysterious and suspicious to observers. When you're doing something nobody would believe if you told them outright, you don't have to be all that careful about covering your trail.
The big day arrived. It was just after Christmas, like a present from that procrastinating uncle who always mails it the day before the holiday. It was snowing gently, enough to make the world feel peaceful but not enough to make my drive to the clinic difficult.
"Welcome," Dr. Zeit greeted me with a smile and a firm handshake. He was a confident, well-groomed man in his sixties. "Today I'll be carefully extracting your brain and storing it temporarily in a proprietary life-preserving fluid while your body goes on life support. We'll make sure everything's perfect on both your end and Mrs. Godfried's end, then we'll take a break and come back to patch your brain into your new body tomorrow on a good night's rest."
"Will it hurt?" I queried, half-joking.
"Not a bit," he promised. "And you'll be right as rain and out of here tomorrow evening. Just ask my last patients!" He giggled softly and pointed to a metal cage in the corner, where a pair of macaques with shaved heads and stitches looked back at me impassively.
Doctor Zeit was true to his word. The procedure was painless outside of the brief poke of the needle for the general anesthesia, and I awoke truly a new woman.
You might imagine it'd be difficult to suddenly be ugly after being a model. You might imagine I'd regret my mistake and wish for my old body back. You'd be wrong, this isn't that kind of story. I never enjoyed my beauty. All the male attention was an exhausting annoyance, I had no interest in sex. The female envy was a problem too. I could never be sure who really cared about me and who was just there for my beauty. Now, any friends I make with this body are true friends indeed.
Coming home to my new house, a house adorned with all the taste and soul of another woman, was more jarring for me than my new body. I reminded myself that I could sell it soon. I made a quick meal for myself in the kitchen, filled Tuffy's dish and then went to bed.
Almost as soon as my head hit the pillow, I found myself back in my old bed in my old studio apartment. I got up, flipped on the light and went to the mirror -- where I saw my old face. My head was shaved and there were stitches from the surgery, but there was a wig on the counter and I put it on.
It's only natural, I thought. A vivid dream of my old body on my first night in my new body. Now it's a lucid dream too.
I don't get a lot of lucid dreams, but when I have one I like to have some fun with it and act out fantasies. So I put on some clothes and walked down the street to my bank -- hey, my fantasies needn't be the same as yours. The teller greeted me with my old body's name and gave me that annoying little leer men always give women who they wish they were making love to. I had him transfer the entire three million dollars in my account over to Mrs. Godfried's account. It was a satisfying way to declare that I no longer cared for my former body, my former identity. It was the woman everyone would be calling Mrs. Godfried -- well, Ms. Godfried now that the divorce is final -- she's the one whose interests I needed to look out for, not that discarded husk I used to wear.
Transaction complete, I exited the bank and started walking home. I did kind of miss that little studio, no matter how much better my new house was, but that's perfectly natural on the first night.
I was almost there when a car drove slowly past with a drunk young man leaning half his torso out the passenger window toward me. He whistled. At me. That distinctive two-note glissando, I'd heard it too many times before. I kept my back to him, but I was fuming so deeply that smoke must've been coming out of my ears. This would be the last time I'd have to endure that humiliation. This body, this magnet for unwanted attention, was no longer mine.
Why wait for the dream to end? Why not destroy this unwanted beauty here and now? It'd be symbolic, a chance to cast it off while awake in a dream instead of while asleep in the hospital. I read on the internet how a mixture of bleach and the drain-unclogging crystals under my bathroom sink could cause permanent disfigurement. In my dream I mixed up a bowl, held it over my head in front of the mirror, and with quiet satisfaction turned the bowl over to end that beautiful face forever.
The searing, burning pain was more sharp and vivid and real than anything in any dream I'd ever had. I found myself suddenly sitting bolt upright in bed -- in Mrs. Godfried's bed, now my bed -- in a cold sweat. The pain was gone, but the fresh memory of it was horrific.
Could something so real have been a dream? My reason told me of course it was, but something deep and primal within me couldn't accept that and demanded I make sure. I reached for my phone and quickly logged in to my bank, Mrs. Godfried's account. And there it was: the three million I'd sent myself had just cleared.
How could such a thing happen?
Perhaps consciousness isn't entirely in the brain? Could a small part of my consciousness have remained in my original body, or could there have been a sort of imprint or echo left behind? Perhaps while Mrs. Godfried's brain slept, her quiescent brain activity gave that latent part of myself an opportunity to assert as the dominant mind again.
Something wasn't quite right, and it was gnawing at the back of my brain. Light, I realized. There was a bit of light coming under the bedroom door. I opened the door cautiously and saw the light was coming from the kitchen.
I have a spatially organized mind, no matter which body it's in. I remember where things are and I notice when they move or change. When I stepped into the kitchen, I sensed at once that something was wrong. A few seconds later I identified how. The bread box had been opened and the cover was fastened in the opposite direction from how I'd left it that evening. The toaster had been moved a few inches. A knife had been removed from its scabbard.
Quietly drawing another knife, I paused to listen intently for any sound that might betray an intruder's continuing presence. There was no such sound. I soon confirmed that no valuables were missing, and located the missing knife in the dishwasher. The evidence suggested, however absurdly, that an intruder had broken in to make a sandwich and then left.
It struck me all at once. How could I not have guessed before? While I'd slept, my new body's latent personality had asserted itself in the same way I'd emerged in my old body while she slept. Mrs. Godfried, dullard that she was, had woken up in what was now rightfully my body and had used her time to make a midnight snack.
It's been forty hours since this realization. That's forty hours of coffee, energy drinks and a couple of caffeine pills. I dare not sleep, for when I sleep Mrs. Godfried will take her revenge.
Comments (42)
Quoting Baden
Questions arise almost immediately.
How equitable was the transaction?
Does one have to give something to get something ?
And are all things obviously equal in value or benefit ? Could there be unknown costs or benefits which create an imbalance ?
So, what was the agreement and the 'somethings' to be swapped ?
The beautiful Graduate gave away her body. She received $100,000, a house worth much more, a transfer of all loans and debts and an ugly body.
Warning! Explicit content:
Quoting Baden
Ah well, coulda been worse...
Question: did they get more than they bargained for ?
There's more to a life than the physical. Take Mrs Godfried:
Quoting Baden
Problems with Love, Self-worth, Unhappy...
but the Grad. thought it none of her business.
Well, it was a business transaction. They both should have got to know what they were taking on.
Warts an' all. Not just money for old rope, I mean beauty/ugly.
Quoting Baden
How desperate do you have to be before you take the high risk of failure.
The first humans to have a brain transplant - what state would they have to be in ?
Live and learn:
Quoting brainybehavior: First successful brain transplant
All above board but in the story, not so much:
Quoting Baden
Other 'somethings' to be swapped:
Legal ID's. Assets to be recovered after exchange.
The Grad has a controlling family to escape from - how bad were they. Now transferred to Mrs G ?
Still, she got to keep Tuffy and TPF. All is well with the world.
Quoting Baden
So, the Swap isn't the kind we see in films where there is a return to the old, after a lesson learned.
There was no magical wish machine in the arcade.
Problems for the Grad:
Unwanted Male attention, female envy, love and trust issues, who are True Friends ?
Mrs. G had similar love and trust probs but being asexual ?
Not quite an 'equitable transaction ?
Soon to be discovered on their first night as each other.
The Grad's lucid dream becomes a nightmare to unravel.
Most confusing transfer of money from herself to herself...
Only 3 million pounds. Sorry. Dollars. What's the exchange rate?
Where did that come from ?
Can't work that one out at all. Help ?!
Then, still having fun in her lucid dream she decided to get rid of her beautiful face:
Quoting Baden
WTF ? Was it a dream or reality ? Checked her account and the transfer had gone through. Fine.
So real ???
Quoting Baden
Q's about Consciousness.
Should have made use of her TPF account, she would have known all about it :nerd:
And the problems with a Swap.
Quoting Baden
Ooops !
Quoting Baden
Double Ooops !!
--------
I read this story about 3 or 4 times before I could get my head around it.
Not necessarily the fault of the writer to be sure. I am tired. Almost brain-dead.
Definitely thought-provoking but I didn't feel anything much for the characters.
Not the usual kind of swap scenario as pointed out, so what was the message ?
Be careful what you wish for ? Money Can't Buy You Love.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Beauty and ugly are only skin deep.
All that glitters is not gold ?
Look before you buy ? Caveat emptor.
Thank you for creating this complicated scenario, even if my head hurts :chin:
Quite brilliant that you accomplished this !
Nice touch of humour re TPF account :sparkle:
\\Quoting Baden
Its a super well illustrated situation. Mrs. Godfried, in her inane vanity wishes to kill her previous self both physically and mentally, while an "innocent" bystander is swept into her tornado of problems. It really brings into light the effect we can have on others, when we search for our personal perfection at the expense of everyone else.
What ? OK, there's more to discuss here.
My take on it - it was the Grad, who had the destructive impulse and intention.
No 'innocent bystander' was she !
Quoting Baden
For what ?
The Grad didn't keep up her part of the bargain. The Grad destroyed her unwanted beauty in what she thought was a lucid dream - but wasn't.
Not sure about how the Grad gained the $3 million either...
Quoting Baden
At least that's what I thought...
It is all very CONFUSING !!! :chin:
Oh snap, you're right. I Skimmed through it quicky at first, I guessed I missed that passage.
Does call into question though, was it really her fault? I mean c'man, she thought it was a dream for crying out loud. Have some conscious for the poor lady.
[quote=Amity]Not sure about how the Grad gained the $3 million either...[/quote]
The story says "Mrs. Godfried transferred all her assets except my fee and the house into escrow, for herself to recover under my identity." I'd guess those assets amounted to $3 million and that she recovered them immediately after leaving the hospital, in the body of the grad, to the account of the grad, as she was now legally living as the grad. Then the grad in the dream back in her old body transfers the money to Mrs. Godfried's body's account, which the grad wakes up in because the surgery was the day before. What breaks my suspension of disbelief there is a bank transfer that size clearing in a few minutes.
You would only swap the things you don't want to swap -- since society considers you to be the other person.
Ah, skimming is great for a first gander. It took me at least 3 or 4 reads before I caught more than a glimmer. I'm still confused and interesting aspects still left to explore,
Quoting Baden
Was she 'truly' a new woman ? How has she changed ?
Personality, character traits, and thought processes remain intact...
Look at the first thing she does:
Quoting Baden
Quoting Baden
But her old body was still walking to the bank and recognised as such.
The bank transfer still has me mystified. I can only think that the $3million had been deposited by the old Mrs Godfried - was that how much the Grad had in debt ?!
The transfer to the Grad's new account meant she had this money to do whatever she wanted.
The old Mrs Godfried is the victim of fraud !
The Grad thought that this was a way to say she no longer cared for her former body, her identity.
But her former body/ID now belonged to Mrs Godfried - including an empty bank account, it seems :gasp:
No wonder the Grad didn't care !
Quoting Baden
Again, the first thing the Grad does is check her account.
Quoting john27
Er...yes...it was her fault. Before entering the transaction, a little bit of research would have gone a long way. The potential risks. But mostly not known as this was a first and also an illegal experiment she gladly entered.
How on earth did she graduate ? Hmmm. Money talks ?! Bribery.
Oh no...not her beautiful body ! :scream:
It did have some value, after all :flower:
Ignorance is no excuse. For the Grad, I search for a redeeming quality and find none.
Not even an account with TPF :wink:
I agree. It is a one-sided account. Not very 'equitable' !
Perhaps the story could have been split, like the Plum one..
We only get to see things from the Grad's point of view. Which is now a bit suspect...
Quoting Paul
Ah. Yes, I wondered about how 'escrow' worked. I thought it would have been put in trust in the old Mrs Godfried's new name, whatever the Grad was called. Oh...
Got it !!
But no...
Wait...
The teller would have to check ID card which has already been swapped. So the name or image wouldn't match the Grad's body. Right ? :chin: No...
My head hurts. I think I need a drawing *
And make it obvious who is who...when... and what !!
Quoting Paul
Yes. Back to reality :up:
* Appeal to author who must have had some physical scheme to follow, no ?!
Or was it all in the mind...
I continue in a cloud of confusion. Enlighten me ?
Quoting Baden
Again, the word 'true' and her thought that she was 'truly' a new woman.
Check the assumptions.
If other females were envious, they were unlikely to be friends.
Grad would be the target of dislike. But other factors might be in play.
Not everyone who is beautiful is liked or disliked for their body alone.
Mind, personality and character are important.
Will they change as a result of this transaction - doesn't look like it.
Re Mrs. Godfried:
Quoting Baden
Having trouble with feeling loved and loving yourself will not necessarily be fixed by a change of body, beautiful or otherwise.
Before any major - potentially life-changing - surgery for aesthetic reasons, the client has to undergo a host of tests, physical, mental, psychological.
Reasons explored. Here's something on cosmetic surgery:
Quoting ncbi article: cosmetic surgery, motivating factors
Back to trust and truth.
The transaction was illegal and done for experimental reasons.
Quoting Baden
Was he even a real doctor ?
Unbelievable unquestioning...over-trustful acceptance.
Quoting Baden
And Grad thinks that Mrs.Godfried is stupid. Hmmm.
Quoting Baden
If this keeps up Grad will be a changed woman indeed.
A physical and mental wreck. Oops :worry:
Never mind, it's only fiction remember...but covers many thought-provoking issues.
Well done, author ! :100:
There is an overlooked connection between minds and bodies that hasn't been properly worked out. Horrific shenanigans ensue.
If Godfried's new face was disfigured and her account drained... then the narrator is somewhat unconscious of the monster that she really is. But the idea of going in for a swap for the reasons given is already kind of petty and grotesque.
Such a situation might be what it feels like to be schizophrenic. Paranoia about what no longer is considered part of oneself. The body seemingly belongs to someone else, strange actions of self occurring by another being. Scary as f.
And to think I spilled so much ink.
Shoulda used it for a Rorschach Test :broken:
Fancy a brain swap ?
:mask:
By all means, spill the ink. I'll rely on your brain to tease out the intricacies and I'll make the sandwiches.
Not sure that is an equitable transaction :chin:
Bring tea as well ?
Who you gonna call? Damasio. Antonio Damasio.
What you gonna read ? Or believe...
https://www.theguardian.com/science/2021/aug/15/the-hidden-sense-shaping-your-wellbeing-interoception
Listen to your heart. Read your arms and legs.
Might need a bit of training for the pair of them.
Bet they're both up for that. Play ABBA. See them dance. Watch that scene.
Quoting praxis
The Grad would win quids in.
After all, she's with TPF :wink:
It's mental and she's mad :nerd:
Interesting. Could you say why ? Was it the fact that it became confusing, not easy to follow?
Or the characters became less appealing? Or your brain just got tired ? All of the above :smile:
Meandering to another trajectory of the story that I wasn't expecting. I had wanted the narrator and Mrs. Godfried to have a real time encounter and continue the story there.
Gotya. Agree that would be fun :smile:
I had a similar reaction to Caldwell, but for me it was the realisation that I've been reading the story "wrongly". It's actually never been confusing. It's focus is narrow, but that's perfectly fine and compatible with the first person point of view. The two women not meeting makes sense, too, given the story, because it creates an opportunity for ambiguity. Our protagonist is sleepdeprived, but we're not really sure that anything happened on the other end. Is there a mythical soul-connection, or is it a psychological type of story? Fantasy or SF?
I was slowly drifting out of the story more due to little niggles I kept having. It's in the phrasing. Take, for example, this line:
Quoting Baden
How many bodies has her mind been in? That feels like a fairly generalised statement without much experience to back it up. You can put it down to the point of view: then it would be characterisation. But I'm thinking there's some disconnect here between the author's worldview and mine.
For example: the new body is a composite: the brain used to be part of the other body, and the story simply doesn't address this. Due to brainsurgery, this isn't just an "embodied mind" story, and while I'm far from an expert, I'd expect brain-body communication to not just be one-way. For example, I'd expect the need for a period of physiotherapy after a brainsurgery, as the brain and body adapt to each other. That wasn't part of the story at all, though.
This is where I go back to the ambiguity I mentioned above: did our protagonist really "dream", or take temporary remote control over her old body? It might just be adjustment problems. But there was nothing of this in the story. What's it like when your body doesn't react the way you're used to? More weight to lug around? Different eye-level (think about reaching in super markets, for example). I guess, I think more attention to the minute details of the new reality is just what I'd have expected. I think I'd have preferred a "bottom-up" methodology of narration to a "top-down" one. The SF world-building mindset, so to speak, rather than the fantasy big-picture what-ifs. I think I started with the wrong default mode for the story.
I've never thought to focus on character alone.
I mentioned earlier that it would have been good to have a split.
( as in Plum story).
1. The Grad 2. Mrs. G
Now, I'm thinking that 3. a meet-up with all its aggro ( murder > separation of body/brain) or reconciliation ( merger ) would be a fantastic finale.
I had wanted to see events from another perspective.
The story is written from the first person point of view and that's fine. The Grad's ruthless lack of concern for anyone but herself is truly exposed.
And you are right. Showing us Mrs. G's perspective would have detracted from working out who the 'I' or self is. Whose body or brain; where and when doing what and how.
The author makes us think...
Quoting Dawnstorm
Right. And this is what caused my confusion in following the plot.
This is one story where I had to backtrack...a lot...!
Like Caldwell, you bring a thoughtful new perspective. Thanks :smile:
As a reader? Or are you talking about your process of writing?
It's largely coincidence for the sake of simpler storytelling that they happened to be sleeping at the same time during the detailed dream. But people do often sleep at the same time, and Mrs. G (in the narrator's old body) may have gone to sleep a little earlier or later but the narrator's conscious awareness of it may be only for the congruent time due to a difficulty in imprinting double memories. Perhaps memory can only be imprinted when both sleep at once, but the control is still exchanged when either is asleep. I could've tried to describe a simultaneous dual-consciousness, but that's rather difficult, and it actually makes more sense to me that your mind would filter out the lesser incongruous distant consciousness while you're awake. Perhaps the narrator could've had fleeting glimpses of what her own mind is doing with her old body when Mrs. G sleeps each night though.
Of course there's an intentional metaphysical flaw at the heart of the story, it assumes some sort of dualism where a consciousness can be aware of two bodies. In reality, any such latent personality would've become a separate being -- a sort of dual personality, of which the narrator would never have been aware. I got part of the concept from a BBC radio series "Body Horror" which if I recall correctly takes that more realistic approach, with the host mind becoming a latent influence and secondary personality on the transplanted mind. The series is available to listen at https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p086934c/episodes/downloads
I'm working on adapting and expanding The Swap into a more character-focused script for an audio drama of my own.
Ohhh that be great! I do hope you do. I think the sound of narration would add to the eery feeling of apprehension the story causes.
Quoting Paul
I was so pondering this for a long while... Well Mrs. Godfried's mind is latent in the narrator's body I guess and indeed when that body goes to sleep, she will take over. Ahhh. I am still puzzled lol. Yes, I know of your 'fondness' for dualism Paul. Really love to see it come out in a story.
I will listen to the BBC series with interest, thanks.
I had thought the story would need to be more visual to clarify the confusion.
@Caldwell was right to say you need to fill out the characters. I thought the slimness worked, mirroring the superficiality of the character, the reasons and the lack of thought in the transaction.
But, then again, if I got to know them better...
Quoting Amity
OK, I didn't realise I was speaking to the author, well done you.
Still, I don't know what you mean. Could you explain ?
Thanks to all the others who contributed to a fascinating discussion:
@john27 @Nils Loc @praxis @Dawnstorm @perhaps
TPF is a great testing ground for ideas; for authors with pet projects to be processed and promoted.
Hope we all helped in some way with yours.
Quoting Tobias
You don't think that it would play better as a film with eery music ?
Quoting Tobias
You are not alone :chin:
Come to think of it, I think the transaction would be more interesting if between a female and male....or male/male. Dualism and gender identity...
Your thoughts ?
I honestly don't know what there is to explain, I can only repeat myself. After the transplant, the world including bankers obviously considers the narrator to be Mrs. Godfried. There's no paperwork to sign over a house to yourself, so of course the previous Mrs. Godfried didn't need to do any paperwork to give the narrator her house. That's why they switched houses: the convenience of not having to do more complex transactions and explanations. The only things that required any work were the things that would not transfer with the body -- that being mainly the money Mrs. Godfried put into escrow before the operation because she didn't want the narrator to take the bulk of her wealth.
Quoting Amity
I've been pondering that, mainly because it's a lot easier to get things done if I take on the main acting role instead of going through months of nagging to try to get someone else to slog through all those lines for free. And while I could play it with a pitch adjustment, and people on the phone do sometimes think I'm a woman, I'm not sure it'd sound quite right with me playing a woman.
But I'm not sure if I'm prepared to take on transgender issues in detail, or if it's fair to treat them as a minor side issue. And if my voice comes across as ambiguously-gendered then that doesn't seem like what a transman would want either. And a Mr. Godfried would remain a very unlikable character, which might be taken as offensive if he's trans. But the more I think about it the more I'm leaning toward it anyway.
Quoting Amity
I don't see how, there aren't any particularly interesting visuals involved (unless you like watching surgeries). Audio dramas have eerie music too, and it's my preferred medium for both consumption and production. But if you give me a few million dollars and a couple years I'll make a film too.
At any rate, the direction I've been going with the script so far wouldn't work on film. It's framed as a one-sided conversation, where you the listener are a friend of Paula (that's the name I'm giving the person who's the narrator in the short story) who's been invited over to the home of this mysterious stranger Mrs. Godfried who's desperately trying to keep awake. Toward the middle of the story Mrs. Godfried reveals that she's actually Paula, post-op.
Look forward to reading or listening to the final product :smile:
Godfried - River Godfried is bossy, rude, snobby and bitter. But determined and gets what she wants and good at it. Pre-op, pre-hormones trans-woman.
Sam - Sam Tomkins is a relatable downtrodden struggling twenty-something. Analytical. Somewhat cynical and vindictive, but with reason. Pre-op, pre-hormones trans-man... but no need to emphasize that aspect with the acting.
Zeit - Dr. Thaddius Zeit, mad scientist, ostracized from the legitimate medical world, whose life's goal has been to transplant brains between human bodies. Tries too hard to act normal and friendly, covering up for the fact that he's a mad scientist. But his affable bedside manner is an obvious ruse and we know he couldn't care less about the lives of his patients, only the thrill of glorious scientific achievements. This is an over the top character who provides a bit of comic relief.
Therapist - Dr. Thurgood, a therapist running a gender dysphoria group.
Secretary - Godfried's phone receptionist
Cashier - A cashier in a supermarket
Courier - Just a delivery guy doing his rounds.
Cat Caller - Heavily intoxicated 20 year old man.
---
Godfried: [secretly Sam] Thank you for being here, you don't know how important that is to me. Would you like some coffee?
SFX: coffee pouring sound, clink of cup
Godfried: [really sam] I'll have another cup too. I'm so desperately tired, and I have to keep awake.
SFX: coffee pouring sound, clink of cup
Godfried: [really Sam] No, I don't want you to go and let me sleep. It's vital that I remain remain awake. Why? I'll come to that. [pause] But first, you're wondering why I invited you over when you've never even heard of me before. Well, we have a mutual acquaintance by the name of Sam Tompkins. And what I have to talk to you about concerns Sam as much as it concerns me and you. You'll understand why when I'm done. [pause] Let me tell you how I met Sam.
SFX: therapy background. quiet a/c i guess.
Sam: It's not so much the lack of support from my family that gets to me. I've moved on from them.
Therapist: You're sure?
Sam: I'm sure. What gets me is just whenever I look in a mirror, it's like I'm seeing somebody else's body. I don't recognize this stranger I'm inhabiting, and I need to get out of her and move to a body that matches who I really am.
Godfried: I'd trade you.
SFX: a few nervous laughs from the group
Sam: If only that were possible.
Godfried: What if I told you it is possible?
Therapist: [lightly scolding] You know it isn't, River.
Godfried: [sneering a bit] YOU have no idea what's possible. You don't believe in anything beyond your little therapy script.
Therapist: [calm but firm] That's enough, River. You're being unnecessarily combative and you're cutting into Sam's allotted speaking time. Sam, please continue.
Sam: Well, what really gets me down is how long and painfully difficult the process is to fix this. Six months of these sessions, then two years of hormones, trying to pass while everyone sneers at me, before I can get the operation.
Godfried: You shouldn't have to wait. The official system shouldn't be your only option.
Therapist: [out of patience] Please be quiet, River.
Sam: And even after the operation, I doubt if I'll pass. I'm too short and my face is too rounded. I'm afraid I'll never be seen as a man.
Therapist: Thank you for opening up about that, Sam. It's seven o'clock, so that's all for this week's gender dysphoria group session. Hope to see everyone here same time next week!
SFX: crowd breaks up and leaves
Godfried: Sam, walk with me for a sec, I want to talk to you.
Sam: Okay.
Godfried: This was your second session, wasn't it?
Sam: That's right. I gather you're not a fan of Dr. Thurgood.
Godfried: It's not the therapist, it's the therapy I don't like. So repetitive and dull and slow. Fortunately I've been pursuing a much faster, much better, much more complete solution.
Sam: [disbelieving] And what would that be?
SFX: card giving noise
Godfried: Here, take my card. I think I have the perfect opportunity for you. Call that number sometime so we can discuss it privately. There's money in it for you too. How does a million dollars sound?
SFX: accent and music bridge
Godfried: [secretly Sam] Sam was pretty baffled by our conversation and initially brushed me off as being out of my mind. But deep down he was thinking about it. [pause] Yes, 'he'. You should've been calling him that, he asked you to, but you kept pretending you forgot. [pause] A million dollars. It's not as much money as it used to be with inflation and all, but it sure is a life changer for someone like Sam. You know he was -- I mean is -- just out of college and deep in debt with poor job prospects. Of course you know, you're the reason. Don't pretend you don't remember that website you both worked on, but the domain registration was in your name, so when it took off you sold it and kept all the money. Then you accused him of lying and trying to steal from *you*. Meanwhile his credit card debt was piling up. [pause] So even though Sam brushed me off at first, it's no surprise he found himself thinking seriously about it that night. He googled me to verify that I am more than wealthy enough to pay the promised sum, and to check my online photos matched his memory. He still wasn't sure it wasn't some sort of scam, but he decided it was worth calling.
SFX: phone dialing
Secretary: River Godfried's residence. With whom am I speaking?
Sam: Sam Tompkins.
Secretary: What's the nature of your call, Mizz Tomkins?
Sam: River Godfried asked me to call to discuss a... business opportunity.
Secretary: One moment, please.
SFX: brief pause
Godfried: I'm glad you've decided to hear me out, Sam.
Sam: I figure it can't hurt to listen.
Godfried: [smugly] You know, I'm not just the random shmoe I may have seemed to be. I have the means to do as I please, and I do.
Sam: So I gather.
Godfried: And I'm not used to needing anyone. But I need you, or someone like you. There, I admitted it. Dr. Thurgood would be proud.
Sam: What do you need me for, exactly?
Godfried: Something that will solve all your problems and mine.
Sam: Out with it.
Godfried: It's best I show you, or you might not take me seriously. Come to Zeit Laboratory at noon tomorrow.
Sam: How's that--
Godfried: Z-E-I-T. It's in Folsom, you can look up the address. Doctor Zeit will explain the procedure and I'll explain the financial and contractual details.
Sam: And you're really prepared to give me a million dollars?
Godfried: I'll throw in my house too.
Sam: What? Your house?
Godfried: You heard me. A big house and stacks of money can't make me happy. Although I'll have plenty left, frankly. The only thing that can make me happy is to live as my true self and be accepted that way by the world.
Sam: Well, I feel the same way about the latter. But I also need money.
Godfried: Perfect. Then I'll see you tomorrow at noon.
SFX: click of Godfried hanging up
Godfried: [secretly Sam] Sam wasn't exactly reassured, but the wealthy do have a certain reputation for eccentricity. And he's very curious. That's one of his best qualities. So he was there the next day at Zeit Laboratory, right on time.
SFX: footsteps and door opening, transition from outdoor to quiet indoor sounds. various animal sounds in background indoors along with heater noise.
Zeit: [making a show of being welcoming and pretending to be a normal sane human but not quite pulling it off] Ah! You must be Sam Tomkins!
Sam: [hesitantly] That's right.
Zeit: Godfried told me to expect you, you're just what we've been waiting for! Well don't just stand there by the door, come all the way in, please! Oh I think I forgot to introduce myself, how rude of me -- I'm Doctor Thaddius Zeit.
Sam: Hello Doctor Zeit. So you run this whole place? Impressive.
Zeit: Ha ha, well we're not that big of an operation, well to be perfectly honest I'm usually the only one here. But that's by choice, my research needs privacy. I'm well-funded by a few generous patrons like Godfried and I'm able to pursue exactly the research I was born to do, without any tiresome meddling or inquiries!
Sam: And what's that? What were you born to do?
Zeit: [suddenly awkward] Uh... well, transplants. I research and perform transplants. I'm quite good at it, I assure you.
Sam: So Godfried is after one of my kidneys or something?
Zeit: Well, it's not quite that simple.
Sam: [with a sigh] No, for a million dollars I suppose it wouldn't be.
SFX: door opens and footsteps enter
Zeit: [relieved] Ah! Godfried! Just in time!
Godfried: Have you told him what I want yet?
Zeit: Well... we haven't quite gotten there.
Godfried: Perhaps you should show him one of your test subjects. I don't think he'd believe you if you just told him.
Zeit: Excellent! Good idea! Come with us Sam, to those cages in the corner.
SFX: three sets of footsteps, primate sounds get louder
Sam: [ambiguously so it can be taken as disapproval or disbelief] You've been doing experiments on these animals?
Godfried: You're not some sort of animal rights extremist, are you? Your file said you're not.
Sam: Just asking. Wait, you've got a file on me?
Zeit: A revolutionary medical procedure like this *has* to be perfected on animals before we can try it with people. Medical ethics requires it.
Sam: [losing patience] So just what is it you're transplanting? I see their heads are shaved, but I doubt you brought me here for a hair transplant.
Zeit: Look closely at the skulls of these two monkeys. Around the foreheads.
Sam: Stitches. All the way around?
Zeit: That's right.
Godfried: Oh, for god's sake just come out and say it already! The doctor transplanted their brains.
SFX: sting
Sam: [trying to puzzle it out] Their... wait. Like a brain from a paralyzed monkey into the body of a brain dead monkey, that sort of thing?
Zeit: That's one application, a very noble one to be sure. But it's not what we've done here.
Godfried: He exchanged them. Two perfectly healthy monkeys, now each inhabiting the other's body.
SFX: pause
Sam: But... why?
Godfied: Do I have to spell everything out for you? Imagine doing this with people. With the two of us. It's like you were saying in therapy the other day, you were born in the wrong body. You have the body I want, I have the body you want, so let's trade.
SFX: sting
Sam: [a bit of stunned silence] I... uh, I'll need to see the data on the animal trials.
Zeit: I've got that all prepared for you in a report. I can assure you I'm completely confident this'll work.
Godfried: And I wouldn't be betting my life on it if I weren't confident in Doctor Zeit's work.
SFX: musical transition
Godfried: [really Sam] I hope you've guessed by now that I'm not actually River Godfried, that I'm actually Sam Tomkins inhabiting Godfried's body. I'm sorry I had to decieve you, but you wouldn't have believed me... and if you had believed me you wouldn't have come. [pause] Not convinced? Who else knows about that time we took Mr. Jenson's convertible for a joy ride? Who else knew how we'd sneak down to that cave at night during the summer camp at Point Bonita? [wistfully] We used to be such good friends back then, before you betrayed me. [pause] I hope I don't confuse you by telling the rest of this story from my own point of view, Sam's point of view, instead of continuing to pretend I can tell Godfried's point of view. Just remember our brains determine who we are, not our bodies... or at least, that's what I always thought.
SFX: sting
Godfried: [really Sam] So. Where was I? I took some time to review the medical data. Doctor Zeit had performed the transplant on everything from mice to dogs to primates, his last dozen were all successful and still thriving after months. He'd overcome the need for immunosuppressants. [pause] Godfried went through the details of the social consequences of the exchange with me. He explained that since we couldn't implicate ourselves in an illegal medical procedure we'd be trading homes and -- at least initially -- social circles, though neither of us had much in the way of close friends anyway. Everything would stay with the body, except three million dollars Godfried would put into escrow for herself to recover once she inhabited my body. Frankly I was more relieved than anything to be fully rid of my family, who'd never accepted me, and of course you know I'd lost my friends becase they believed your side of the story. My only condition was that my cat Tuffy would come with me.
SFX: rain from inside car, traffic noise muffled
Godfried: [really Sam] The big day was a bit over a month later. It was just after Christmas, like a present from that procrastinating uncle who always puts it in the mail on the 24th. [pause] I should've been terrified. I was on my way to have my brain extracted in a clandestine, illegal operation by a surgeon of shall we say questionable morality.
SFX: car pulls in and stops, Sam gets out and walks to door, buzzes, it opens and she walks in
Godfried: [really Sam] And yet despite it all I wasn't afraid. All I could feel was hope. There was nothing to lose, and everything to gain. This would be the last time I entered a building wearing the wrong body and feeling hopelessly out of place and misunderstood.
Zeit: [overly familiar] Sam! So good to see you! Not having any second thoughts, are we?
Sam: No. I've been waiting for this day my whole life. Today is my re-birthday.
Zeit: Positivity, that's what I like to hear! Just to remind you, I'll be carefully extracting your brain and storing it temporarily in a life-preserving fluid while your body goes on life support. We'll make sure everything's perfect on both your end and Godfried's end, then we'll patch your brain into your new body. Fingers crossed, we should have both of you out of here sometime tomorrow.
Sam: [half-joking] Will it hurt?
Zeit: Not a bit! You'll get a topical before we take your skull off, and the brain doesn't have nerves. And I can sever your brain's connection to your nervous system as the first cut if you like.
Sam: [apprehensive] Can you remind me why I have to be awake for it?
Zeit: [cheerily] Brain surgeries are normally performed with the patient awake. It keeps you extra safe by letting me see the responses to what I'm doing. You'll help me verify I'm cutting the right connections for as long as you can.
SFX: Godfried's footsteps approach
Godfried: I'm relieved to see that my body has arrived safely!
Sam: [sarcastically] Thought I'd abscond with it?
Godfried: It's never a good idea to put any faith in anyone. That's why I'm paying you, though.
Sam: You're putting a lot of faith in Doctor Zeit.
Godfried: I'm paying him a lot too. If we die, the gravy train stops flowing for him.
Zeit: [bristling at the notion of being a hired hand] This is about professional pride and the advancement of science, not profit!
Godfried: Yeah, sure.
Zeit: [triggered] And I was widely-acknowledged as one of our nation's greatest surgeons before my license was revoked! They were all jealous of me! They thought their timid ways made their patients safer, I say my willingness to innovate gives my patients hope!
Sam: You know, Doctor, I really don't care. If the operation is a success, my suffering is over. If it's a failure, my suffering is over. I win either way.
Zeit: [taken aback by such a willing guinea pig] Well... that's... different. But I can assure you I prefer the outcome where you live. This will be my crowning achievement!
Godfried: [impatiently] Enough chatter. Let's get started.
SFX: three sets of footsteps briefly going into lab with sciency noises
Zeit: Onto the beds, you two.
SFX: little creak of them getting onto medical beds
Zeit: I'll start with you, Sam.
Sam: So that you'll still have your patron if the extraction fails. I understand.
Zeit: I've never had a more understanding patient.
SFX: drill/saw starts
Zeit: You'll feel a slight pinch as I remove the top of your skull.
SFX: some sort of light soft tension music up and behind following narration. we'll here medical noises/beeps too in background. drip of blood iv maybe.
Godfried: [really sam, narrating] You'd think I'd have second thoughts, you'd think I'd leap up and run screaming. But no. I was calm, almost absurdly calm as the doctor drilled and poked and prodded.
SFX: snip
Zeit: Do you feel any change, Sam?
Sam: My sense of smell is gone.
Zeit: Good. I'll be severing the optic nerve next.
SFX: snip
Sam: Everything just went dark.
Zeit: Great!
SFX: snip, then maybe clatter of metal tool falling to floor
Zeit: Oh shit! [pause] I can fix this...
SFX: ominous music? or maybe goofy. continues behind
Godfried: [really sam] I opened my eyes, and I could see again! But something was off. The sunlight was gone from the window... and I was sure the window had been left of me, but now it was right of me. The fluorescent ceiling light had moved too. I quickly deduced I was in the other bed.
Sam: [actually Godfried in Sam's body] *groan* Is it done?
Godfried: [really sam, narrating] I was hearing my own voice, but I wasn't speaking.
Sam: [actually Godfried, shouting rudely] Doctor! Get in here!
Godfried: [really sam] It really worked, Godfried! We've switched bodies!
SFX: footsteps
Sam: [actually Godfried, demandingly] We're awake, Zeit. I'm not paying you to go relax in the other room.
Zeit: [ignoring the barb and being cheery] How are you two feeling?
Sam: [actually Godfried] Satisfactory, considering.
Godfried: Like a new man. Thank you doctor.
Zeit: [excited] Then I've done it! It's official! The transplant nobody else in the world dared, and I got it right on the very first try! Oh how I wish you could see me now, Doctor Patel... would you still call me 'fanciful' and 'unbalanced'?
Sam: [actually Godfried, warning sternly] You can't talk about this with anyone, Doctor Zeit. I won't have you getting us into trouble.
Zeit: [coming down, and then up again] Oh, I know. I just like to imagine it. Maybe in a few years we can go public, maybe I'll take it straight to the Johns Hopkins board and be reinstated to my rightful place.
Godfried: [actually Sam] So everything went to plan, no complications?
Zeit: [fudging] Close enough.
Sam: [actually Godfried] When can I be out of here?
Zeit: I need to keep you at least until morning for observation, then you can go if you really feel up to it.
SFX: music transition
Godfried: [really sam, narrating] In the morning, Godfried... or should I call her Sam now?... anyway, she left very early. Forceful personality, that one, no matter the body. I wasn't feeling such a hurry, so I took my time exploring my new body piece by piece. I learned that with my newfound thirteen inches of height I need to lean over to wash my hands, and sitting down feels like a strangely prolonged operation. Once I do sit, I need to arrange my legs carefully or these testicles protest -- that's something I never imagined about being a man. My left eye is now slightly nearsighted. I have pimples on my back. There's all these little things about our bodies that we get used to and don't think about anymore, but when you're new to the body they stand out. But while they might normally be considered annoyances, I celebrated each new annoyance I discovered as a testament to having escaped my life-long prison.
SFX: musical transition, maybe triumphant sounding
SFX: house door opens and closes
Godfried: [really sam] Gosh this house is too big for me. Guess I can sell it in a few months.
SFX: footsteps, opening cupboard
Godfried: [really sam, talking to self] Funny how I can switch bodies and feel at home, but coming home to a mansion kinda makes me miss my crappy little studio apartment.
SFX: hissing
Godfried: [really Sam] Tuffy! It's me, Tuffy! It's Sam!
SFX: growling
Godfried: [really Sam] Oh, you'll get used to it. All you really care about is somebody feeds you.
SFX: pouring cat food
Godfried: [really Sam] *yawns* Gosh I'm tired. I think I'll turn in, if I can find a bedroom in this place.
SFX: footsteps down a hall, then door opens
Godfried: Ah, perfect.
SFX: plopping down in bed
SFX: dream transition music. possibly keep subtle eerie music under whole dream in background?
SFX: groaning awake, movement noises and switch behind next line
Godfried: [really Sam, narrating] I awoke in my bed. With a start I realized it actually was MY bed, in my old apartment. And I jumped up and flipped on the light and went to the mirror, where my old face stared back at me... same as ever, except for the shaved head and stitches.
SFX: sting
Godfried: [really Sam, narrating] I was furious at first, at being trapped back into that old shell. But then I put two and two together and realized this could only mean I was dreaming. [pause] There was a wig on top of the dresser, so I put it on to cover the stitches, and I headed out.
SFX: footsteps and door opening behind those last few words, then we transition to nighttime street sounds with moderate traffic and different type of footsteps on pavement
SFX: car drives by
SFX: wolf whistle
Cat Caller: [drunkenly shouting out car window] Wow, nice body!
Sam: [angrily shouting at car] Fuck off!
Godfried: I was disgusted by very notion that people were sexually attracted to that mismatched shell which conveyed nothing like the real me. But I realized then that this dream was an opportunity. An opportunity to give my old body the forceful rejection and sendoff it deserved, which I'd been unable to give it while I was unconscious on the operating table.
SFX: store people background noise
Cashier: Did you find everything you were looking for today, ma'am?
Sam: Yes.
Cashier: Just sulfuric acid?
SFX: beep of scanning it
Sam: Got a clogged drain.
Cashier: Good luck with that, ma'am!
SFX: music transition continues under?
Godfried: I didn't even bother to go home. Seemed kind of silly to bother with such details in a dream, although I suppose shopping in a dream is also a little silly. Anyway, I just stood in front of the store and opened the bottle. I looked up at the sky, at the stars. And I emptied the bottle onto my face.
SFX: scream
SFX: sting
Godfried: [really sam, narrating] It was the most painful thing I've ever experienced, and that's coming from someone who didn't blink at having the top of his head sawed off. But the pain ended as suddenly as it began, and I found myself sitting up on the edge of the bed -- Godfried's bed. I was sweating. [pause] Could something that felt so real have been a dream? My reason told me of course it was, but something deep and primal within me couldn't accept that. [pause] Something else wasn't quite right, and it was gnawing at the back of my brain. *Light*, I realized. There was a bit of light coming under the bedroom door.
SFX: door opening, soft footsteps
Godfried: I have a spatially organized mind, no matter which body it's in. I remember where things are and I notice when they move or change. When I stepped into the kitchen, I sensed at once that something was wrong. A few seconds later I identified how. The bread box had been opened and the cover was fastened in the opposite direction from how I'd left it that evening. The toaster had been moved a few inches. A knife had been removed from its scabbard.
SFX: drawing knife from scabbard
Godfried: Quietly drawing another knife, I paused to listen intently for any sound that might betray an intruder's continuing presence.
SFX: beating heart, otherwise silence for a few seconds, then a little crash and Tuffy meows
Godfried: Nobody there but me and the cat. I confirmed no valuables were missing, and located the missing knife in the dishwasher. The evidence suggested, absurdly, that an intruder had broken in to make a sandwich and then left.
SFX: music hits and goes behind following insight
Godfried: It struck me all at once. What if my dream hadn't been a dream? What if I'd actually gone back to my old body while I'd slept? And then what if Godfried gained control of my body at the same time, found herself in her old house and made a midnight snack? [pause] Perhaps consciousness isn't entirely in the brain? Could a small part of consciousness remain with the original body, or could some sort of an imprint or an echo be left behind? When our brains sleep, the quiescent brain activity could be overwhelmed by the body's latent consciousness, which then asserts itself as the dominant mind again until waking. [pause] Considering what I'd done in what I thought was a dream, it was a horrifying thought. I held out hope that it was just a thought, until a package arrived in the morning. We'd agreed to fire Jenkins -- too much chance of him spotting that I'm not the real Godfried -- and I didn't like the idea of having a servant in the house anyway... so I answered the door myself.
SFX: walking to door and opening it
Courier: Special delivery package for a Mister River Godfried.
Godfried: [really Sam] Oh, that's me, I'll take it.
Courier: Sign here.
SFX: signing
Godfried: Thank you.
Courier: Have a nice day, sir!
SFX: door closes, a couple steps
Godfried: I wonder if it's for me or for her...
SFX: opening box, unwrapping
Godfried: Oh no! It was real!
SFX: dropping box, glass breaks and fizzes
Godfried: [narrating] It was a small vial of sulfuric acid. There was a note attached, which read:
Sam: [really Godfried, with anger and spite] I know you're responsible. Just wait until next time you fall asleep, you little bastard.
SFX: sting or music transition
Godfried: It's been thirty hours since that delivery. Thirty hours of pondering what Godfried is going to do to me when I fall asleep. Thirty hours of eating caffeine pills like candy and drinking coffee by the gallon. But all is not lost, not yet.
SFX: doorbell rings
Godfried: [shouts] Come in, Doctor! It's unlocked.
SFX: distant entry noises and footsteps approaching
Godfried: Allow me to present Doctor Thaddius Zeit.
Zeit: [looking for a polite way to say victim] This is our... uh, 'helper'?
Godfried: That's right. [pause] I bet you're wondering how you can possibly help. You think it's beyond your power, that I'm at the mercy of Godfried and there's no way out for me. Deep down you're probably glad to anticipate my demise, considering what transpired between us. But no! The good doctor believes he can save me!
Zeit: Well there's a good chance. No promises.
Godfried: Certainly better than the chance I have now, and time is running out. Would you like to explain your solution for our helpful guest?
Zeit: Sure. What we're dealing with here is a sort of bleed through from a remnant of consciousness in the central nervous system. It didn't show up in the animal trials. The solution is simple: next time, I'll apply a unidirectional neural inhibitor band at the base of the brain stem after separation. That should prevent the host body from exerting any influence over the brain.
Godfried: Have you guessed your contribution yet? From the way you're squirming in that chair I think you have. That's right -- you'll be providing my new body.
Zeit: I must say, Sam, I'm pleasantly surprised that you have the fortitude to make this choice. I could've imagined Godfried in her impatience grabbing an unwilling subject, but she wants to try plastic surgery first. But you, Sam... I took you for a timid sort, bound by society's limited morals.
Godfried: [worried] Perhaps I'm not entirely Sam anymore.
Zeit: [imagining the paper he'd write about it] Interesting...
Godfried: But what must be done must be done. It's not like it's murder -- you're welcome to Godfried's body. No, there's no point trying to resist. You're feeling pretty sleepy now yourself, aren't you? That's right, I put something in your coffee.
Zeit: [cheery with a menacing edge] Let's go down to the lab and get started then, shall we?
SFX: end theme
You could do a film for much cheaper than that. See short films from independent creators.
Maybe a film student with lots of local friends wanting to act in it for free could, but I certainly couldn't. I'd have zero actors for that, zero crew, not even a sufficient camera. Even if I could magically invest a hundred thousand dollars into it somehow, the result would be visibly amateurish.
Whereas I've made dozens of audio dramas at zero expense, only needing people to email lines. Former Philosophy Forums administrator Reformed Nihilist is turning in a great performance as Doctor Zeit. I've thrown together a little trailer from what I've got from 3 actors so far:
RN is a real voice actor. Didn't he appear in one movie as... ah I can't remember anymore. I remember he posted a clip of that scene. Not sure if Broadway.
Is he still around? Good to know he's done that. :)
Not sure if he's around here. I have him on facebook / email and he's played many different parts in my productions. For instance, the one most relevant to this forum was a story about Plato's allegory of the cave:
Just saw this. Nice work, mate. :cool:
Yes, I think he was a stage actor. Can you smoke him out to here? RN's not saying anything anymore. :)