Our TG Caption

The usual operations of the shop tended to be mind-numbingly boring, as Carter discovered in the days following their opening. The monotony of managing temperamental equipment and dodging calls from collection agencies was starting to take its toll; in fact, the only respite from the boredom came from the occasional customer wandering in off the street. They had at last managed to secure their first ever scheduled appointment, and Carter was eager to impress. The business would continue hemorrhaging money if he didn’t build up a decent clientele, and the young scientist had been repeatedly reminded of his marketing shortcomings over the past few weeks.

Ethan and Marissa arrived at noon, a typical middle-class suburban white couple. They were closing in on middle age, both of them bearing a few wrinkles and grey hairs and carrying just a little bit of flab. Past their prime? Sure. But by no means frumpy or ugly. Payment had been upfront; $7,500 for the full treatment on both of them, and Carter was more than happy to oblige.

“Our neighbors had nothing but good things to say about this place,” Ethan explained as Carter led the couple towards the Testing Chamber. “We figured we would treat ourselves to something nice, y’know?”

“Ethan is always spoiling me,” Marissa said, reaching out to give her husband a playful slap on the shoulder.

“Anything for my special lady!” Ethan leaned forward to give his wife a quick peck on the lips. “Would you like to go first, hun?”

“Of course! Ladies first!” She laughed as Carter opened the door to the sterile Treatment Chamber.

As soon as the two men entered the shielded Control Room, Carter drew a quick inhale, preparing to launch into his prepared speech: alternate realities, the nature of his invention, all the boring technical details that always precluded the inevitable first question every client asked:

“So you can do… anything?”

Carter had considered condensing the spiel into something more informative than the lobby pamphlets, but laying out the full truth of his invention would draw the wrong kind of attention. The outdated control computer was already humming to life, diagnostic reports blinking across the CRT monitor. Ethan seemed like he needed a moment to process the implications… and Carter needed a minute to warm up the machine anyway. They were both watching Marissa through the reinforced observation window. Her husband’s hesitation was plain. Sometimes clients needed a nudge to get over that first hurdle.

“How about we start simple?” Carter suggested, his fingers already dancing over the keyboard. “Maybe a styling package? Ever wondered what Marissa might look like with a little… *Mom-chic*?”

Marissa straightened as the machine thrummed. Her hair shifted first—her conservative shoulder-length cut tumbling into a perfectly layered bob that framed her face with the sort of effortlessness that could only be achieved by expensive salon upkeep. Subtle highlights caught the light, warm streaks of honey and caramel lending her an air of vibrancy.

Her outfit changed next: gone was the bland blouse-and-slacks ensemble, replaced with a casual-but-elevated look straight out of a lifestyle catalog. She now wore a soft-knit cardigan in a flattering neutral tone, paired with form-fitting dark jeans and stylish ankle boots. Gold accents—tasteful jewelry, a delicate necklace, and modest hoop earrings—appeared to complete the ensemble. Even her nails gained a light gloss finish, understated but elegant.

Her body hadn’t been radically reshaped—Carter had left the flab and wrinkles more or less intact—but presentation was everything. Marissa now looked like the kind of suburban mom who somehow managed to make every school fundraiser and still have time to look impeccable, the sort of woman who made PTA meetings feel like fashion shows.

Her memories filled in the details: the appointment slots with a trusted stylist, afternoons spent at boutique shops with friends, a Pinterest board overflowing with ideas. To Marissa, she had always been the mom who “had it together.” Not glamorous, but polished.

Ethan’s reaction was immediate, though complicated. He had always been attracted to his wife, but now she looked… sharper, more put-together than he ever remembered. He wasn’t sure whether to beam with pride or feel like he was falling behind. Compared to her effortless sophistication, his tucked-in polo and slightly protruding stomach seemed downright sloppy.

“Feelings of inadequacy are normal,” Carter said, recognizing the look and offering his best sympathetic smile. “After the change, Marissa gives off the air of someone who *always* knows what she’s doing. She could walk into a parent-teacher conference or a wine tasting and completely own the room. It’s not a wild reinvention—it’s a styling package, a surface polish—but the difference speaks for itself.”

Carter chuckled lightly, and Ethan began to relax, his hands settling on his beltline.

“Yeah, maybe it won’t be so bad once I get my turn in there,” Ethan said.

“You can swap places with your wife whenever you’re ready!” Carter replied, moving to power down the machine.

“Hold on.”

Carter looked over, seeing Ethan shift his weight uncomfortably. He wore his indecision plainly, and Carter’s fingers hovered over the keyboard. Clients almost always came to the same conclusion. The creases on Ethan’s face deepened before he let out a long sigh.

“I think I’d like to change something else.”