This is actually something from the archives of unfinished ideas. Since I have some time on my hands of late, I figure now would be a good time to finish out some stuff I had written before.
"Hey sis! Remember me?"
Tisha Roberts stood at the door in complete shock looking at the person in front of her, the latest KaySlay CD whispering its aural presence in the background. She scanned the person in front of her, trying to figure out what was going on. The woman in front of her was wearing a black leather catsuit that stopped just below her ass. Combined with a pair of thigh length black leather platform boots, the girl's athletic, almost flat-out muscular legs seemed to stretch forever. The torso seemed almost unnatural, with a toned, tight stomach evident even through the leather and a bust that did just that through the catsuit, leaving a valley of cleavage for a lock of blonde hair to contrast against her dark chocolate skin. Her head was surrounded with a waist-length main of platinum blonde hair, and her face was made up with light metallic colors, her bright smile beaming through her shiny rose-colored lips.
Tisha, meanwhile, stared back, leaning her 5'10" frame against the door, her faded Janet Jackson t-shirt and sweatpants draping down against her body as she shook her head and said, "no way."
"Yes it is, sis," the woman said as she ran her hand through Tisha's short-shorn curly locks. "It's me, Jimmy. Remember?"
"Yeah, right. Jimmy is over in Okinawa right now, serving his military proudly...or so he keeps writing me."
"And that's going to be the official story to ma, at least until I figure out what to tell her," the woman continued. "Remember your first boyfriend? You know, the tall, skinny one with those freaking Dumbo ears? The one you said wasn't, how do I put this, big enough for you? The one I hid out in my closet to bail you out?"
Tisha stood up in shock when the woman at the door rattled off such a personal detail. "Well," Tisha said half to herself. "If you know that, then you must know plenty about Jimmy..."
"'cause I am Jimmy!" the woman said. "Look, I know this stresses credulity, but could you let me in? I wanted to visit home, and I figured that I wouldn't scare you to death if I didn't use the keys. C'mon now.
"Well, you do look kinda like Grandma," Tisha continued as she studied the woman's face. "Especially..."
"...around the eyes," the woman finished as she picked up the small leather bag at her feet.
"Oh my God," Tisha said in a whisper, shocked as realized that this might be her brother after all.
Tisha leaned out over the door and looked both ways on the quiet tree-lined block, making sure a few people as possible were witnessing this exchange. Then, she stepped back away from the door, motioning for the woman to come in. "Come in, um...what do you call yourself these days?"
"Storm," the woman replied as she walked in the door, ducking in under the door frame. "You know, like Halle Berry's character from the X-Men movies?"
"OK," Tisha said with a giggle "Name like a stripper? This story has to be good," she said as she closed the door. "Where do you wanna tell it?"
"How about in your room, sis?" Storm replied. "I hear you got the latest KaySlay mixtape up there blasting.
"Yeah, I was listening to that before entering the Twilight Zone," Tisha said, still in shock about the events of the past few minutes. "Come."
Tisha looked over her shoulder as she heard the thud of those high heels tap onto the hardwood floor. As she walked up the stairs, she looked over her shoulder and couldn't help but notice how slinky her brother, I mean sister, looked in that catsuit. "How the fuck did he end up a sex object?" Tisha thought to herself.
Tisha turned up the hallway towards her bedroom, then opened the door, hitting both her and Storm with a wall of sound."
"Is that the new Papoose? Sounds like he's at it again!"
"Yeah, he is," Tisha said as she killed the volume on the stereo. She climbed onto the bed, then took loose her scrunchie, letting her brown hair flare out a bit before tightening it up again. "OK, Jimmy, let me ask. Are you really in Okinawa?"
"Well, I was for a while, then shit got real...really real."
"So real that you have tits faker than Pamela Anderson Lee?"
"Yeah, pretty much. Let me explain this one, OK?"
"Alright, this should be a good one. My brother has turned into a tranny because he has to," Tisha said as she folded her knees up on the bed and snuggled in next to her teddy bears. "What next? Ellen DeGeneres doing interracial gangbangs?"
"With some of the shit I've seen, I wouldn't be surprised to see her doing it, with Portia de Rossi the fluffer. Let me explain this as quickly as possible. Now, up until about a year ago, everything I've been telling you and mom has been pretty accurate. Yadda, yadda, yadda, basic training, blah blah blah computer training, wah, wah, wah Okinawa. I was just thanking my lucky stars that good grades on the Basic Skills test combined with some classic luck of the draw had me in Japan as opposed to the Middle East. Then, one day in the shower, I see some officer walk up to me, tell him to come at once and toss me a towel to keep decent."
"What for?"
"Well, we're getting closer to my current appearance. You know the family genes for thin, wiry builds, especially among the men?"
"Yeah. I know how our uncles are. But what does that have to do with anything? Is the army making a he-she army?"
"Get comfy, because this is going to be rich. After being yanked from the shower, I end up in this place way out behind God's back to a meeting with a bunch of guys who I thought were civilians, along with my military escort and some other officer dude. Anyway, turns out the civilians work for what's commonly called The Company."
"What Company?"
"THE company. The CIA."