A Bad Hair Day

When Things Go Wrong Some believe that the world was created in six days and that it will end with a second coming of Christ, or perhaps the anti-Christ. Others say the world will end with Ragnarök when the Norse gods fight the ice giants. Still others maintain the universe started with a bang and that it will end in the same way. To JJ, a small but still a very deadly local big bang seemed the most likely way he was going to die; right now, the end of his world was just about to start as if fate had taken a personal dislike to him. There was a blinding flash of light followed by a roar of a sound, which JJ felt as much as he heard as it hit him. “This is it! This is it! Sh*t! Sh*t! Sh*t! This is really it!” At that point the large and so-safe-looking metal cabinets behind which he was currently crouching decided to join him in his cramped little hiding space. The room seemed unsure that it needed all four of its walls, while the ceiling made up its mind that four walls was the minimum number it needed and was soon going to have a meeting with the floor to discuss this decision. As for JJ, well, fate had decided that he was just in the way… and his present life paraded itself inside his mind as he waited for the end. His real name was John; at the orphanage, he’d been called Just John, which over time had been shortened even further to JJ. He had to admit that it was better than the other names he had, such as “short-arse” and sometimes “d**k-arse,” perhaps hinting that he was gay. He was not; he was a normal, hot-blooded guy, but that would be difficult to prove when they discovered his body nicely clad in a short, blush peach-colored cotton dress with matching shoes and clutch bag. The only good thing about being a corpse was that he would not have to explain the dress, let alone the black bra and panties. JJ was not a transvestite and certainly was not gay, but that was not what the papers would say when they reported his death as a burglar who had died more as a drag queen than the master criminal he so believed himself to be. JJ did not like pain, and playing Atlas had not been listed as part of the job specification. The job had looked so easy for someone with his skills. The dressing up had not even been his idea, and he only reluctantly agreed after it had been pointed out that that if he wished to terminate the contract he had signed, then the termination would be with a bullet. He was sure he would not fool anyone, but the fact that he soon found himself lying down and shivering, wearing only some paper shorts while some pervert of a make-up artist waxed his legs and plucked his eyebrows meant his clients thought otherwise. If it worked, he could bypass a lot of security under the cover of darkness, joining some girls who were attending a very unofficial party in the same building. The clients had been very pleased with his transformation, and the mirror showed him looking far more girl-like than he thought possible. His outer appearance may have been okay, but due to all the discomfort getting there had caused, he wondered whether a bullet would have been a better choice. He felt sick, either from nerves or perhaps due to the strange tablets they had given him to change his voice. His male parts had been taped up in place by the make-up guy, who had seemed to take far too much pleasure in it. JJ’s new underwear was far too tight. His padded bra cut into his shoulders; the wig made his scalp itch, and the shoes were torture to have on, let alone to try and walk in. Under the circumstances he had done very well. Apart from ruining his tights and getting crushed to death, he was still alive. Things had in fact been going far better than he could have hoped for….