One thing she needed to do, Lizzie decided, was a bit more investigation on what had been going wrong. Somehow, the answers she got from telephone support just didn't satisfy her.
"Do you have a log of recent actions?" she asked the voice interface unit.
"Yes, I do," the computer answered.
"OK, then. Do you remember making a change where I specified that my brother Eric should be more masculine, but that he'd also be a sister I could do girl things with? I also made him a full girl but gave him a masculine height, masculine hair style, clothes, and masculine mindset. I left him with breasts but otherwise gave him a masculine figure. I said he -- or actually she -- should enjoy acting and dressing like a guy, including faking a lower voice, and that she'd like doing girl things with me as long as she doesn't have to wear anything feminine."
"Yes, and you could have stopped talking several minutes ago," the computer said. "I've restored that transaction from backup. What would you like to know?"
"Why didn't Erica wasn't to talk about cute boys with me and go shopping at the mall?"
"Analyzing... Done... If you review those specifications, you'll find that nowhere did you specifically mention talking about cute boys or going shopping at the mall. You thought your specifications would result in those things, but they didn't. You did specify that Erica would think like a boy, and boys don't call each other cute except as an insult. She passed up going to the mall because she knew you meant clothes shopping, and that would have involved trying on feminine clothing."
"What about Erica wanting to buy a studded leather purse! No guy would wear that!"
"That was going to be a birthday present for your mom," the computer replied.
"What! My mom would never want a purse like that! And how would you know what Eric -- or Erica -- was thinking?"
"So Eric's sense of fashion was way off. What did you expect? You clearly stated that you wanted him -- or her -- to think like a guy. Oh, and we have, uh, ways of tracking the results of changes. It's mainly to prevent injuries."
"Well, what about this?" Lizzie demanded. "I wanted her to pretend like she was my boyfriend, and the first thing she does, we go out where everyone knows she isn't my boyfriend. And I wanted her to enjoy pretending that, and she didn't."
"No, you wanted people to think another guy was bothering you, and you wanted Erica to act like a boyfriend who was protecting you. That's why she turned into such an aggressive muscle chick; so she could physically intimidate the bad guy the way a huge boyfriend would. And you're the one who wanted her to dress like a guy, but still have large breasts, and be a lesbian. And she did enjoy pretending with you."
"But that wasn't the way I wanted to pretend. She took me on a jock date," Lizzie protested.
"You're the one who made her a jock," the computer pointed out.
"Wait a minute. Why are you giving me such different answers than Jon at the magic shop?" Lizzie objected.
"I have the logs. Jon never asked for them. Plus, it's very common for two eyewitnesses to disagree. Jon and I have these disagreements all the time. Would you like me to run an trend analysis on everything that's happened?"
"Yes, please," Lizzie decided. After all, the results couldn't hurt, could they?
"OK... Analyzing... Got it! Lizzie, you keep giving Erica a mixture of soft female and strong masculine traits, and then you object to the masculine traits. That sort of behavior implies that you probably have an unformed or ambiguous sexual orientation. It seems you feel pressured to date guys, and you like the way they look, but you hate the way they think and act."
"That's impossible!" Lizzie screamed. "I thought this was supposed to be the new, improved software! I think it's nuttier than the first version! And why should I believe psycho-babble coming out of a PC?"
"Would you prefer on-site support?" asked the PC.
"Yes, please!" Lizzie shouted, and then within seconds a dirt bike with exhaust cutoffs wide open roared onto the driveway and screeched to a stop. Moments later, a biker chick crawled up the downspout and swung through the second-floor window into Lizzie's room.
The biker chick was dressed in motorcycle boots, army socks, dangerously short denim cutoffs, a leather corset, and a black helmet stenciled in back with the Jon's Magic Shoppe logo in pink. Tattoos covered most of her body and she was pierced in more places than Lizzie could count.
"Yo! Hi, dere!" began the biker chick as she removed her helmet and dropped to a footstool. "My handle is, uh, Stella, and I'm yo' fairy godmudder. Da PC dere, it's tellin' me you need some poisonal advice. So c'mere, Lizzie, sit on Stella's lap and tell me yo' story."
"I don't like where you've got your hand. I think you just want to grab my butt," Lizzie objected.
"Can't blame a fellow for tryin!" Stella remarked. "Anyway, what about guys, eh? Are they bitches or what? I guess you like the idea of 'em but you can't actually stand 'em. Got yo'self all mixed up. Izzat right?"
