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“Uh, I mean, this is great and all,” she says. “But I’m not dumb trophy wife material. I definitely, for sure, want to have a career. Just not as a stupid secretary.”
You nod in understanding, typing in the bar again:
/Switch the roles of SUBJECT and her husband/
There’s another flash of light, and when this one goes away you two are in an even nicer apartment. Vicky’s clothes changed yet again, and she’s now sporting a suit jacket, matching skirt, and business heels. Her hair is shorter, and you notice her ring is now gone (probably to appear single to other men).
“How’s this?” You ask. “Now you’ve always been the rich one and he stays at home.”
“My goodness that’s...that’s right!” She exclaims. “My whole life is different...I went to a better college and got better jobs, and I met Peter and now...oh my gosh I can’t believe just a few moments ago I was just a secretary!”