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"No! Noooo -- oooo! OOOO!"
Hawkeye shrieked as his body writhed and shifted to the beat of the tribal drums vibrating through his flesh.
Then the drum beat ended and he slumped forward.
After a moment, Hawkeye rose shakily to his feet.
"Oh, ah do declare, what a mighty strange sensation! Wait, why am ah talking like this?"
The former hero stared down at her body: at the long lacy purple dress, at the huge heaving bosom, at the delicate hands in their purple lacy gloves that instead of gripping a bow now held a parasol.
"Those drums! Mah word! What did they do to me?"
The newly-minted Southern belle squealed and hurried off in her high-heeled boots.
She needed to find someone to help her! Captain American could! That big hunk o' man would figure something out!
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