The Best Pick

by Jennifer White

  

My girlfriends and I sat around, watching TV. Shiela wanted to see that latest 'Reality TV' program, so I reluctantly turned it on. It must have been a sign, because I chipped a nail on the remote. And I just painted them 2 days ago. Drat!

"Hello and welcome to The Best Pick" said the announcer, "the reality show with a real twist. Lets meet our contestant, Carl."

Carl walked in, wearing a tuxedo. Another announcer in voice-over said "Carl is 26 years old, and hails from Venice Beach, California. He has signed a contract promising that as the result of this show, he will be married to the partner of his dreams."

The audience clapped as Carl came up to the podium.

"Carl, behind that wall are 40 women, all ready to meet you. What are you feeling?"

"Excited!" said Carl.

"Very good. Now remember, these are 40 *gorgeous* women, but you get something even better. You are going to be able to pick 'the best of the best'. Keep in mind that no matter how stunning any of these women are, you will wind up with a partner who you will be *even more* attracted to."

"I can't wait!" said Carl.

"Neither can I" said the announcer. "Here we go!"

Dance music started to play, and lights flashed. One by one the women started to emerge from behind the curtain. Each would walk up to Carl, shake his hand, and say her name. The screen showed her name, age, and home town to the viewers at home.

A split screen shot would show each girl emerging, and Carl's reaction to her. Each one was better than the last! He could not believe how many beautiful women had been gathered here, all for him.

There were redheads, brunettes, and blondes. Their hair was short, long, straight, curly, and every combination. There were tall ones, thin ones, curvy ones, busty ones, lusty ones. They ranged in skin color from pale white to rich ebony, with every possible shade in between.

Each woman had flawless makeup, and a very fashionable outfit that showed off her best features. Each wore high heel shoes, each one had long painted nails. They were all paragons of feminine beauty, and they were all just for Carl.

 

(annoying commercial, run to get diet pop and more popcorn for us girls)

 

"All right Carl" said the announcer, "now the fun really begins. You've met each of the women, who we will use to determine what your ideal woman is like. Later, you will get to mingle with them, while the cameras watch, so that you can spend some personal time getting to know them. But what is your first impression?"

"They're all really awesome. I don't know how I'll ever be able to chose from them!"

A typical dork, like they picked for these things. At least he was a hunk (albeit a dorky one).

The rest of the show had Carl going around, and talking with each of the girls. They all acted like he was some great catch, and we all laughed at how fake 'Reality TV' is.

"A girl like that would never go for a guy like him" said Shirley.

"Right on sister!" I chimed in.

We had quite a conversation following that, and we decided that we had such a good time, that we needed to make 'The Best Pick' a weekly event. We could watch it, talk for a while, *then* go out and have a good time.

* * *

 

One week later, it was Joyce's turn to host. She got out the veggie tray along with the creamy dip, and we tuned in. Oh, and did I mention the margaritas?

"Tonight, we will start with the bottom, so to speak" said the announcer. You will get a foot's eye level view of the women, as they parade down the runway. All you have to do, is to pick the one with the best feet."

"Sounds fun Matt" said Carl.

"Here we go!"

The camera showed the 40 women parading down the runway. When each one reached the end, a close-up ground level view of her shoes was shown. Most chose open toed heels, but a few went with boots or other shoes. Carl rated each one, to get it down to 5 finalists.

 

(annoying commercial break, go to the potty. The margaritas are getting to me!)

 

After the break, Carl looked closer at the 5 finalists, and picked the one with the best feet. Predictably, they were small feet, with immaculately painted nails. As if real women could keep their feet looking that good! If I wore shoes like she did, I'd have all sorts of calluses on my feet, blisters, and worse.

And who could afford to keep her feet that perfectly manicured? Get real!

 

In the end, Carl chose one girl's feet that were perfect looking. We all had to agree that he made a good choice. My feet are ugly, but some girls are lucky enough to get the few cute ones out there.

A computer image on the screen showed a faint green 3-D outline of a woman, against a black background. A bunch of graphic text flashed across the screen, like it was supposed to be a computer or something, and an image of the perfect little feet appeared in the proper place.

 

"Now for the legs!" said the announcer. It all started again with 40 women wearing bathing suits to show off their legs beginning to parade for him again.

Each one had a fake looking smile on her face, although a few did look sincerely shy. Each of us girls put down the veggie dip, and slid our margaritas away from us, after we thought about our own legs, and looked at the ones strutting on stage.

If I could work out 8 hours a day for 2 years, I might get something close to those legs. In the real world, unless you're one of those really annoying women who never put on any weight, the first place it goes is to your thighs. Yet all 40 of these chicks had the nerve to show off perfect looking legs.

"I don't know about you, but I'd trade my legs right now, for *any* of those" I said.

"Oh quit with the legs! You're always whining about your legs!" said Mindy.

"Just wait until we get to the arms. You'll be sorry Miss 'I'm getting matronly upper arms'!" I shot back.

"Ouch! Now hitting below the belt" said Shirley.

"She started it" I countered. We all clinked margarita glasses, giving in to our urge to forget our sorrows. We never looked that good anyway, even when we were 18 year old girls.

 

Carl 'the dork' went through the parade, and predictably picked 5 finalists with really long legs. Guys never do like short girls, do they? Looking at that many close ups of gorgeous legs, I felt a sudden urge to get out my Nair. I felt icky, comparing myself to the perfection on the screen. And none of them had spider veins like poor Pamela had.

Carl picked the best legs, and the computer image did its thing again. A bunch of 'computer noises' played as the screen updated (my computer never goes beep bloop blip like that!). The graphic now showed the perfect legs atop the perfect feet.

"That's all for this edition of The Best Pick" said the announcer. "See you next time!"

* * *

 

"I hate that show" said Pamela, one week later. "It objectifies women, and makes a meat market out of picking a partner. It is immoral and..."

"Its 8 o'clock!" cut in Mindy.

"Hurry, turn it on!" said Pamela.

Tonight was going to be fun. They were picking hands and arms. Time for my revenge on Mindy, for making fun of how sensitive I was about my legs. I guess when you come down to it, every woman is sensitive about *something*. Her age if nothing else!

"Just wait until these babes on the TV get older. They'll see what its like" I said, rubbing my hands together. They'd get old too.

"But I think they can afford plastic surgery, if they're rich enough to keep themselves in that good of shape" said Shiela.

"It's not fair!" I said. Humph.

 

I don't know what makes one woman's hands look better to a man than another's, except for our nails. Each of the contestants of course had a perfect manicure, no cuticle problems, and a glossy paint job on her nails. If only mine would look that good for more than one day after I get my nails done.

In the real world, where you have to do dishes, chop celery, do the laundry, clean the house, weed the garden...something is always messing up your nails. Gee, I guess I'm sensitive about that too.

Carl picked his ideal hands, then he picked the best arms. So far, he had picked 4 body parts from 4 different girls. So there, none of them were perfect!

 

The last selection that night was hair. And (big drum roll), he picked of all things...a blonde. Duh! I could have told you! The chick from Hawaii always rules in the talent contest, the dark haired one might win the evening gown competition, but its always the blonde that they pick in the end, isn't it?

She had hair to die for, so full and long, and just curly enough.

"I couldn't do that with my hair if I spent 2 hours on it" said Pamela.

"I couldn't stand my hair that long to begin with" said Shirley.

"I couldn't stand being a blonde!" said Mindy.

I guess we women always like to cut down a babe who looks like those contestants do. We hate them for being so darn perfect. Its not fair!

The computer graphic filled in a full head of blond hair on Carl's ideal woman. We had to wait another week to see what would happen.

* * *

 

The next week was a little slow for me. Carl picked a chin, nose, ears, and face. They were all really pretty, and I guess that I would get a nose job if I was super rich, but it was too tedious for me.

I had to wait until the next week for some fun. First, he picked a voice. He skipped the sultry rasp (read 'heavy smoker') of some girls, and the high pitched whine of others. He ended up liking one with a slight southern drawl, and a mid-alto voice. Very pleasant to listen to. Not a bad choice Carl.

And now was the moment we were all waiting for: the bust competition. We all wore our best pushup bras, and tight shirts so that we'd all feel good about ourselves.

But no pushup bra with water or gel to add a cup size is much when compared to really big ones. Of course, some of these girls might have had some 'enhancements' from what they were born with. But most of them were unbelievable!

It made me feel like a schoolgirl again. You know how when you're in high school, you sit next to one girl who develops early, way before you do? So you feel like you're still at the 'fried egg' stage, and she is stacked. And when you feel proud that you've moved up a cup size, she's still way bigger than you. It makes you feel so inadequate!

So we all stared at the boobs, gasping at how some of them defied gravity. Some of them just had to be fake. They didn't jiggle. I wondered if guys would care how they felt in their hands, or if they only judged us on size.

"Lets get boob jobs after the show" said Shirley.

"I'm in" I said.

We all laughed. If we just had $25,000 each for a good surgeon (and a trip to LA to see him). And to make a few other emergency repairs...

 

Anyway, Carl was almost drooling when he picked the best pair of tits in the end. Big, firm and full. Actually, we all agreed that they were *too* big.

"I couldn't jog with those!" said Mindy.

"If they bounce, that girl would fall over" said Pamela.

"My baby would by happy though" I said. "There would be enough to drink for five."

"Imagine having those on you. If you lean forward, you'd fall over" said Shiela.

"I couldn't play tennis if I was like that" said Pamela. "I'd never be able to swing a racquet."

We all made fun of her. We all hated her for having bigger breasts than we did. We were jealous, but we pitied her too, if that makes sense.

 

The computer image updated, and it now showed Carl's ideal woman. We had to admit that his Frankenstein turned out to be gorgeous. She would pass for a super model any day of the week. With her long legs and arms, the massive boobs didn't look too overwhelming (although there was enough cleavage that a man could get lost down there for days, needing a rescue party to pull him back out). Her big hair went with her face, and she had just enough curves.

"Maybe he isn't a dork after all" said Shirley.

"No, he'll blow it, I bet" I said. I never liked him, that smug look on his face.

"Next week, Carl will come fact to face with the woman of his dreams. But there is a twist..." said the announcer teasingly.

* * *

 

We all looked forward to the next week, where Carl would meet the girl of his dreams. We wondered how they could get someone that fit the exact specifications that he had cooked up.

"Through the latest science of molecular biology, you can take carbon molecules, and rearrange them as you see fit" said the announcer. "Building on this basic concept, things larger than a molecule can be manipulated too. Like cells."

The screen showed a picture of a sunflower. A button was pressed, and the view became all blurry. When it cleared, instead of a sunflower, the picture showed a rosebush.

"Using Carl's input parameters, we will rearrange the molecules in a person to meet his exact specifications. The twist is, Carl does not realize that he knows the person who we will be rearranging. Find out who it is after these important words from our sponsor."

 

Great, another set of commercials. Whenever they get to something good, they cut away. We all hated commercials, and vowed never to buy whatever product they showed next.

Unfortunately for us, the first ad was for Nair, so we vowed to boycott whatever they showed next. Unfortunately for us, the second ad was for Visa. Drat. So much for vows. Oh well, we would boycott Monday Night Football or something like that instead.

 

The show came back on, and we were all on the edge of our seats to see what would happen.

"Are you ready Carl?" asked the announcer.

"Sure thing Matt. I can't wait to meet her."

"You're going to be very close to her Carl, how does that make you feel?"

"Wonderful! I am so excited!"

"Lets go!" said the announcer. The camera zoomed in on Carl's eyes, as he stared at the image on the computer screen of the beauty he had just created over the past few weeks.

He kept staring, and the camera zoomed in closer and closer. It got all blurry for a few moments, then began to back off. Mindy was the first one to notice it.

"Oh my god, they zapped him."

"No way!" I said.

"Yes they did! Look, that's the nose he picked out."

"And look at his hair!"

The camera kept panning back. Carl had no idea yet what had happened to him.

"He's got those huge boobs" said Shirley.

"And those legs" added Shiela.

They showed Carl from full length. He was now the woman he had created on the screen! And he didn't even know it. The molecules in his clothes had been changed too, so he was now wearing an evening gown, along with sexy shoes.

"Don't say anything Carl, because here she is, your ideal woman, Cara!"

The curtain drew back, showing a mirror to Carl. But he did not realize yet that it was a mirror. And he did not realize that what he was seeing was in fact an image of his new body. His new *female* body.

"Go get her, she's all yours" said the announcer.

Carl took a step forward, and almost fell down. He grabbed the table to steady himself, and realized that he was looking down at his chest, with it's massive boobs. He looked further down at his long smooth legs.

Immediately Carl put his pretty hand with its long red fingernails onto his crotch.

"It's gone!" he said in his new alto voice, that he had picked out himself.

"That's right Carl, you are now Cara, the woman of your dreams. You can't be any closer to her perfection, can you? In fact, you are now her! How does it feel to be your perfect woman?"

"I....I'm so confused" said Cara.

"As well you should be. But you'll be even more confused in a moment, when you select your future husband."

"Husband?" said Cara.

"Yes, that's right. Now that you're a woman, you need a man to marry. And you cannot leave this show until the wedding. Its all in your contract, remember?"

"I thought I was going to marry a woman" he said.

"You have done more than that. You *are* a woman. Now lets meet your three suitors."

 

We were all stunned. That dorko guy was a chick now, just like us! We were so elated! He had treated the 40 women in the contest like pieces of meat. He didn't even know any of their names, as he picked the parts of them he liked the most.

And now, he was just like them. But it was to get even better.

 

In walked three tall dark and handsome men. And I do mean handsome. At home, we were all falling out of our chairs.

"I'll marry number three" I said.

"I'll marry any of them" said Mindy.

"I'll move to Utah and marry *all* of them" said Pamela.

"That's multiple wives out there, not husbands" pointed out Shirley.

"Whatever" said Pamela, not taking her eyes off the TV set.

 

The announcer asked each of the three a series of questions. Each proved themselves to be educated, well spoken, with sexy voices to boot. We all drooled.

Nobody got up when the next commercial came on. We all vowed to buy whatever it was they were advertising. Unfortunately, it was 'just for men', but we promised to go out and get some anyway.

I did refill my wineglass before the show came on again. Now *this* was good television programming.

 

"Welcome back. Cara has met her three suitors, and from her vital signs at the bottom of the screen, you can see that she is quite excited to see them. She is experiencing a female reaction to these handsome suitors, causing much confusion for her. But soon enough, she'll take the plunge and become a woman all the way."

We all whooped and hollered, like wild party girls at college. This kept getting better and better.

 

"Now for the last twist: Cara, we're not going to allow you to pick your husband. Nor are we going to let them fight it out for you with challenges. No, instead, your fate will be determined by the 40 women who you selected from to create your ideal woman, *you*.

The 40 women were seated on risers, like a giant multilevel jury box. They were all dressed sensibly now, instead of wearing sexy clothes. But somehow, that made them look intimidating.

Cara was the one in the sexy clothes now. Before, Carl having power over 40 helpless women. Now *he* was a helpless woman, and *they* had the power over him. They were about to decide who Cara was to marry.

They used their electronic touch pads to enter their votes, and the results showed up on the TV screen in real-time.

"And the winner is.....bachealor number three!" said the announcer.

The bachelor got up, and put his hands in the air. He had not been told yet that the wide eyed woman staring at him had been a man, just minutes ago. All he knew was that he was about to marry a woman who looked like a super model.

Two women pulled Cara away, through a door. She kept staring at her future husband, but seemed unable to even move on her own. The women pulled her off-stage.

"While Cara gets ready, meet Judge William Penn III, who will perform the ceremony. He is licensed in the state of California to perform legal weddings. Carl signed all of the papers before the show. The judge and bachelor number three, who's name is Roger are signing the document. All we need now is the bride.

The wedding march suddenly started, and all 40 girls in the panel rose as Cara came back through the door, wearing her wedding gown. It was a lovely gown, with a low cut front, making her boobs very visible to the national TV audience. The women who she chose for their boobs, legs, hair and face were her maids of honor.

In minutes, the short civil ceremony was over.

"You may now kiss the bride" said the Judge.

Roger kissed Cara, and she just melted into his arms. Her female desires and instincts were taking over. Although there was a look of fright in her eyes at once, she soon got into it.

"I wish I was her" said Shirley.

"Yeah, I'd marry Roger" said Mindy.

"Better move to Utah, because he has a wife already" pointed out Pamela.

 

As the couple drove away in their new convertible, heading to the airport and their honeymoon trip to Hawaii, we all sighed. The show was over, but what a show it was! We taped it, and we would be sure to watch it again and again.

"I loved the part where Carl realized he was a woman" said Mindy.

"I liked it the best when he realized he was marrying a guy" said Pamela.

"I liked that the girls got to pick, and make him do what *they* wanted. Serves him right!" I said.

"You never liked him. But he's a happy woman now, so I guess you can't complain too much."

"Yes I can. Did you see the size of her tits? And those thighs! I'll never have legs like that."

We all laughed. We were ready for another round of fantasy TV.

  

  

  

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