There are 261 beautiful people in the world.  I would kill to be number 262, but my eyes are not the right hue, my features are not comparable to fruits, and this subcutaneous fat makes me too curvaceous.

I’ll get a faucet installed! Then I'll lose pounds as I please, drain them right into the sink. Nothing fancy! Just an elegant faucet where my bellybutton would be. That's beauty. All my friends would agree.

But then they'll notice my complexion, and no beauty queen has pores like these. Perfect smoothness is required. Nothing a simple scalp transplant, body sanding, facial lamination couldn't achieve! I can already see those smooth, glossy cheeks and youthful sheen.

Though that might call attention to my teeth. Simple enough to replace them with brilliant battery-powered LEDs. Then I'd be beauty number 262, and my friends would kill to be 263. "What’s your secret?" they’ll ask, and I’ll toss my hair back in the breeze and say "Confidence," and, of course, they'll believe me. Why would I lie, with this shape and skin and hair and teeth?

The End

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