(I am indebted to Wyrdey's Fictionmania story "The Fake" for this idea: <http://fictionmania.tv/stories/readtextstory.html?storyID=124669265365210383>.)
The next morning, Gladys Brewer woke to the sound of her alarm clock as usual, hefted her considerable weight to the edge of the bed, and rolled her feet to the floor, eyes slowly adjusting to being awake. Gladys was the most picked on girl at Jon and Karyn's school. Standing about 5"4', she weighed a little over 300 lbs. But it wasn't just her weight that made her one of the ugliest girls in school: she drew the short straw in just about ever aspect of the looks department. She had terrible acne, pock marks, and pallid skin with red blotches that made her look consumptive. She had hair in unsightly place but not enough on her head, and the hair she did have on her head was thin and greasy looking, even though she washed regularly. She always smelled bad, no matter how much deodorant and soap she used. Her finger and toenails were thick, cracked, and discolored, and her hands and feet were knobby and crooked. Her nasal voice sounded, even to herself, shrill and screechy. She also wasn't especially smart or talented at anything. Unlike most ugly unpopular kids, she didn't have intellect or another skill to fall back on. Nature or God or whoever had been very unkind to Gladys Brewer.
Gladys was under no illusion that she was popular or even generally liked. She was under no illusion that she had anything other than a mediocre mind and a hideous body. It was for this latter reason that she didn't even have a mirror in her room. As she groggily walked toward the door of her room to go to the bathroom, she noticed a wrapped box lying on the table by the door. For most girls her age, this table would have a mirror and makeup on it. Hers was usually bare, though. Today, she noticed a pastel blue box with a purple ribbon on it. The whole thing was about the size of a small box of chocolates.
Curious, Gladys opened the box and pulled away a layer of cotton stuffing to find something that looked sort of like a TV remote, only slightly smaller than most and with fewer buttons. Picking it up, she noticed a product manual underneath the remote.
The Fake Maker Owner's Manual, she read on the front of the product manual. Flipping the booklet open, she continued reading. With the Fake Maker, you can make your dreams come true. All you have to do it point and click. Point the Fake Maker at the target person, press the button, and say what is fake about him or her. The device will make it so. Jealous of your coworker's larger breasts? Just point the Fake Maker at her, press the button, and tell her her breasts are fake and it will become true. Wish you had straighter teeth? Just point the Fake Maker at your self, press the button, and tell yourself your crooked teeth are fake and your real teeth a perfectly straight. Enjoy a new you with the Fake Maker.
The manual had many more pages, some of them in other languages, but Gladys felt she had the gist of it. She took it to the bathroom with her and looked in the mirror, hoping she wasn't on Candid Camera or something and this was some terrible prank. But, thinking it was worth the risk, Gladys decided to start small to get the hang of how the device worked. She pointed it at herself, pressed the button, and said, "Gladys, your acne is fake." As soon as she said it, she noticed her reflection in the mirror changed slightly. She had red dots where her acne used to be, red dots that were clearly left there by a marker. She rubbed her cheek and watched the dots disappear. With a full shower, all of her acne would be gone. Gladys smiled, happier than she'd been in her entire life. Everything was about to change for her.
