After a night trying to sick the pills out of his stomach to no avail, our investigator hits the drink hard. Even after getting sick from that, then sleeping off the hangover, he still had his new body. A younger, physically pure body free of his previous on-the-job accidents and, he was loathe to admit it, this body even seemed to get over the hangover faster. He woke up feeling refreshed and before noon, for the first time since he left the force.
Trying to find his least lived-in and shot-at outfit, the detective got dressed and hiked his way to the club once more, using the travel time to get used to walking in the new form and all its different wobbly bits. Unsuspected of his encounter with the bouncer previously, our lead was permitted entry and immediately ushered to the big office upstairs and the woman ruling over her domain within. She took one look at the detective’s body, identified him as a reference from the boat crew, and offered him a place on the staff before they even shook hands. If only his cases came in this quickly. Then again, they typically didn’t require him to get fitted for a dress uniform and apron.
Finishing up his first night’s shift, the investigator leaned back and groaned. So these bodies eventually wore out the same as the usual one. He much preferred being tired after a night out drinking and brawling over one serving snacks and drinks. He was approached by another chemically divine specimen clocking out for the day. Tall, shapely, and redheaded, she checked a lot of boxes for the detective, even knowing all that probably came from the chem lab. They struck up a conversation and thinking she was dealing with one of her own, she let slip what the detective had already pieced together. The staff here was working to pay off their last dose of pills, but the detective had to press her more for the why. Hints here and there about how unhappy they had all been in their old lives. Wanted to be changed but their families wouldn’t hear them out, much less help. Word got around about the magic little pills and you had disaffected sons and daughters of the supposed elites wanting to hide their identities and take on new lives. Escape the sheltered rich life, change into somebody new, then make money to escape to a new town. Seemed like some of them were in it for the transformation and for others it was just a happy by-product of a new opportunity.
After a few nights at the club, the investigator’s new waitress friends introduced him to the club’s singers and stage acts. Soon, the investigator had verified the identities of almost half the folks he was hired to bring home. His info session was cut short when the club’s owner strolled on stage with a goon at her side holding a tray of wrapped paper boxes. The gals were giddy and zipped on over. Paychecks were stuffed in pockets with barely a glance as the boss thanked them for another week’s work, handed over their cut of the profits, and distributed the boxes. The wrapping paper littered the floor like snow just seconds later as each woman popped open their new pill bottles and took the next dose. They shivered and each called out and admired how the whole crew was changing. With all eyes turning his way, the detective was cornered by a chorus of cheers urging the new girl to go for it. He clamped his eyes shut and braced himself as the cold shiver kicked in and his curves kicked out. Swelling up the last inch of slack in his uniform, the night’s lead singer gave him a hug. He’d better start practicing some standards because he’d be ready for the stage after another pill or two. The boss concurred and preached the benefits of working on the stage. Shorter hours and higher pay went a long way in his book, but he already felt like this figure was ready to burst if he didn’t wrap this case up quickly.