Breakdown (early access)

A day ago, Ami’s car had broken down by the remote farmhouse. Jim extended his rural hospitality to her as best he could, even if he found Ami to be a stuck up and obnoxious city girl. Ami didn’t think too highly of Jim either, perceiving him as a backwards redneck. Still, they both tried to be polite with Jim offering to help Ami with her car, explaining he just needed to go into town tomorrow for a few parts, and Ami being quite grateful in response. The tension between them was unspoken up until the moment they swapped bodies.

For the next few hours, it was a shouting match full of insults before they both finally calmed down. Jim finally decided the plan stayed the same; he’d go into town and get the car parts the next day, but also ask around regarding any strange circumstances. Ami would stay here and watch the television for any news reports about any sort of incidents.

Jim was gone several hours and came back shocked to see how Ami had dressed his body. “Where the hell did you even get clothes like that from?”

“Next day shipping,” She replied, “There’s no reason I can’t make your body look good as long as I’m the one in it!”

“Well, just don’t leave the farm dressed like that. You’ll embarrass me for the next decade.”

“And can we talk about what YOU’RE wearing!?”

“I got it while I was in town,” Jim explained, “They’re practical!”

“They’re practically hideous!” Ami interjected, “If my Instagram followers saw me looking like that...And, speaking of which, where did you get them?”

“You know I went to town. I stopped at the WalMart.”

Ami held back a dry heave, “Seriously?”

“It’s where I bought the parts for your car, too. No one was talking about nothing strange or unusual either, so whatever this body swapping stuff that affected us...we seem to be the only ones. I should still be able to fix your car though.”

“Thanks. Could you try not to get my hands too dirty?”

“Try not to...get your hands dirty?” Jim asked in confusion, “I’m gonna be working on your car. My hands ae gonna get dirty!”

“MY hands,” Ami reminded him, “You may be in control of my body right now, but those are still MY hands.”

“Naw, I get it. I’m just telling you there’s not much I can do about it. And if we aren’t able to swap back, all this talk about dirty hands and not liking each other’s clothes are gonna seem like small taters.”

Ami hated to admit it, but she knew Jim was right.