You open your eyes and look down to see boobs. You see that you are also holding beers on a servers tray. You must be a waitress. You don’t reckognize this bar. Judging by the way it looks, serving beer isn’t your only priority. You decide any life is better than your old one and accept things. You can only hope the poor soul who ended up in your body ends up ok. But for now you’ve got a special client to see.
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