Mr. Smidley responds to Brady Doga's question in kind.
"Well, if you'd agree to do so, we'd like you to perform on national television tonight. I'm aware that this is incredibly short notice, but my staff have assured me that you are more than capable of succeeding, and we'd also like to take this opportunity to introduce you to the public in such a grand fashion."
Brady Doga could not believe his luck, and smiled with excitement, unwittingly prompting his lips to plump into a sexy pout, and acquire a coating of deep scarlet lipstick.
"I'd love to, Mr. Smidley. Thank you for this opportunity!" Brady Doga replies.
Mr. Smidley smiles. "Excellent. I already have the forms prepared, so if you'd just like to sign them, please." The man produces a pen, in addition to the numerous sheets of paper that comprise the contract.
Rising to his feet, Brady Doga effortlessly strides over to Mr. Smidley's desk in his now 3" heeled boots. Taking the pen in his gloved hand, the former young boy signs the name Brady Doga several times on the contract, unaware of the fact that his shirt is continuing to alter and rise, exposing more of his sexy stomach.
"Okay, I'm finished!" Brady Doga says, his voice now having completed its metamorphosis into that of an adult woman.
