{based on the Reddit post by u/Tinytina7222}

Your daughter has been lazy lately. She hasn’t applied for a single job, spending her days lounging around, scrolling on her phone, and avoiding any responsibility. It’s frustrating—watching her waste her potential—and you find yourself growing increasingly impatient. That’s when you remember the bodysuit gun you recently bought. A strange device, but one with extraordinary promise. You hold it in your hands, feeling the weight of its possibilities.

One zap. That’s all it takes. In an instant, your daughter is gone—transformed into a flat, pliable husk, a perfect replica of her form but utterly lifeless. Her long brown hair, her piercing blue eyes, her slender curves—all captured and flattened in this eerie simulacrum. You stare at it, marveling at the precision, the realism. The gun hums faintly, and in that moment, you think to yourself: This is God’s gift to man.

Now the husk of your daughter lies before you, inert yet unnervingly exact. The thought crosses your mind: do you put it on? The idea is tempting. Wearing it would be like slipping into someone else’s skin, feeling her form as if it were your own. Yet a strange hesitation lingers, a twinge of guilt—or curiosity—curling in your chest. It’s yours to decide. To act, or simply to observe.

The choice feels heavier than the gun in your hand. The potential, the thrill, the eerie intimacy of it all—it’s overwhelming. You can’t help but wonder: once it’s on, will your own body feel gone, replaced entirely by the lifelike form of your daughter? The question hangs in the air as you reach out, fingers brushing against the smooth, flat surface.

Do you wear it?