And eventually... this!" Heather hada huge smile as she gestured across her new body "this!" Do you... remember John?" Brenda asked."I am all that Jo...n was. All of his experiences and memories remain.But that personality is gone. It's hard to explain. I am what he was...but I am not him." Do you... 'think' like him?" Brenda asked."I think like the woman that I am... I think like Heather... because Iam Heather. But if you're asking if I retain John's intellect, thenyes. Absolutely," Heather. *Not Great America.* he thought. Tinny music came from the cracked speakers under the Tilt-A-Whirl across the way. Looking at the chipped and faded paint, marred here and there by rust spots, Steve, who fancied himself a poetic soul at times, likened it to a pathetic attempt at a song of seduction sung by a wrinkled whore, long past her prime. *A whore,* he thought dejectedly. *That's what I'll have to find.* He had tried all of his own lines on the girls here, and then the ones his friends. More

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