Page 1 of The Totally Typical Tale of Mappy McMapface (Ghostlight Falls #1)

Five Years Ago

S napping the last piece into place, I wipe a bead of sweat from my forehead as I admire the culmination of years of work. The design is anything but elegant, but the guts are good. I’ve reviewed the science with a group of people I found on the internet, so you know they’re legit.

What is attractiveness if not elementary genetics gone right?

All I have to do is take the basics of gene-editing and ramp it up a little.

Or maybe a lot. Surely nothing can go wrong with that.

And it will be worth it. Not only will I look like the man that I’ve always been on the inside, but I’ll have made such a breakthrough in this field that people will have to take me seriously.

Goodbye Creepy Carter.

Double-checking everything, I question my decision for the first time.

There will probably be side effects. There always are with this kind of thing.

Muscle and joint pain, definitely. A headache seems to happen with every procedure.

Personality changes? Well, no one has given my personality much of a chance anyway, doubt anyone will notice.

Vision changes? Likely. Maybe I’ll need some slutty little glasses?

There’s always a chance of death. I’ve calculated the odds, and it’s unlikely, but not completely impossible.

Assuming I survive, it will be worth it. That’s what I need to focus on.

I start my meditation playlist. It’s a recording of the spadefoot toads.

Growing up here, I’ve always thought their mating calls were sort of soothing in an “it’s so loud you can’t think about anything else” sort of way.

It’s nice as long as you don’t focus on the fact that it’s a recording of a literal orgy. Not sure what that says about me.

With my calming soundtrack in place, I can focus on the positives again. No more teasing. I’ll finally get the respect that I deserve. This town is constantly evolving, and without me, no one would be able to keep up with the changes.

Sure, they could hire a cartographer to regularly update maps the old-fashioned way, but my body changes with the town.

As soon as Sheet-y relocates, my flesh is updated, and it’s up to me to let them know where to find it.

Every time a new shop opens, or a new family moves into town, my body updates instantly.

No cartographer could keep up the way an O’Graffey can.

Yet, most of the town completely ignores me.

Takes me for granted. Well, that ends now.

No more Mr. Nice Map.

With a new level of resolve, I adjust the dials on my Get-Hotinator. It’s programmed with my DNA and the exact changes to make. There’s no reason to think something won’t go the way I’m planning. I grab a piece of paper and write a note, just in case.

Taking a deep breath, I step into the machine and lock myself in. It’s now or never.

There’s a blinding light and then pain, so much pain, before everything goes black.