The part as a dancer in a Rap video had been the last on her list, so...with no other jobs to be 'perfect' for, she remained in 'mulatto club rat' mode. She wiggled and strutted out onto the street and towards the parking lot. As she approache the tiny,
ageing car she driven in (all she and Peter could afford) it seemed to grow large...shiny...flashy. Mary-J stepped up to the black and glistening Cadillac Escalade with the gleaming spinners, pink Ground FX lighting, vanity plates ('Jackpot') and white leather
interior...and she paused. She looked at her dark hand with its long, glistening nails and...rings? He wedding ring, yes...but also several others. All gold, heavy and designed to catch the eye. She looked down at her thick, curvy body...the skintight lycra
capris and tube top ('Jackpot' spelled in glittering sequined lettering) and ran her hand down her mane of frosted cornrows.
"Dis ain' right..." she mumbled in her husky, smokey voice. It was a strong voice. A voice for bellowing over the sounds of a club. She reached up and cupped her fat, quakeing titties. "...ain' right, damn..." she muttered as she turned the key in the lock,
slid her well-padded ass into the seat. She looked around at the interior and saw the amazing sound system and all the blinged out toys, decorations and gadgets. This...wasn't her car...or her life. She had to...
She started up the car, and the Escalades awesome speakers pumped and pounded deep, brain-ratteling bass lines into her head. Mary-J gasped and rolled her head back...as the voice on the rapid, sex-dripping song...became hers.
She looked down at the CD cases on the passenger side, and saw her face...her name. She...she...
"She was 'Jackpot'. She knew it. She was a singer, and her particular brand of gritty Club Rap had made her successful and popular all over the country...and even the world. She shook her head, and Mary-Jay smiled, her gold tooth flashing. She'd just cast
dancers in her own next video ('Face it Tiger...') and even though she was blowing up all over the charts...she was grounded enough to know where she'd come from. She was a street-level girl. She loved the bling and the glitter, but she wanted to stay 'Mary-J
from the Block' (if you will) and she and her husband lived in the same rundown area they'd been in when she'd moved from the local club scene and into the national spotlight. She drove to the same apartment building she'd left that morning as "Mary Jane"
and parked her Cadillac Escalade on the corner just as she'd always done, turning on her expensive anti-theft device and smiling at the local black girls who begged her for an autograph. She strutted up to the elevator and entered her world. She lived in this
place...but she wallowed in the things that fame had bought her. She'd bought up every room on the top floor, knocked out the walls and connected it all together. She entered her home...and gasped in delight at the collection of gaudy rooms that had been such
a hit on "MTV's Cribz" last month. She had a suddon flash of panic as she imagined what it truly had been earlier...then smiled as she sauntered from room to room. The sound system pumped thrumming, rattling base-heavy beats into each room, and huge flat screens
showed a constant loop of every interview, video and show she'd even filmed. The rooms were what she'd once hav called 'gardy', 'tacky' or 'overdone', but now...she LOVED the way the apartment broadcast her style. She walked part her collection of Gold and
Platinum records and awards...photos of her with other stars...through the several rooms that were now just giant walkin closets...into the bedroom with it's massive sircular in-floor bed and mirrors on every surface.
Before this momant...some part of her might have returned. But now...with the fame and fortune she'd always wanted...with all the THINGS she never had...with all the televisions AND mirrors showing her images of herself...something in her snapped...and Mary-J
was just...Mary-J. In the clubs and media she was known as 'Jackpot'. She was a wild, fun loving carmel-colored club rat who'd finally hit the big time. She looked at herself...and saw just what she should see. Felicia had changed her so that "Mary Jane will
be perfect for any role she auditions for.", but in her mind...the only role she ever needed to play was 'Jackpot'...and now, she'd always be perfect for it.
She lit up a blunt and made herself a champagne cocktail so she could be nice and loose when her husband got home. Poor, clueless Peter. Why didn't he just quit his job at that wack paper an' hang wit' her? She an' he could fuck all day long, an' when she
went on th' road he could stay with her. She smiled as she thought 'bout poor, desperate Peter Parker. Still, the love Mary Jane had felt for her husband had transcended her changes, and...she still loved him. Wanted to snuggle with him in her huge bed. Wanted
to fuck him all night long. Wanted to take him in her arms and hold him while he told her of his day as Spiderman, and she'd tell him of her music career.
Mary-J 'Jackpot' Parker smiled as she watched herself on the television. She smiled...
Meanwhile
The fat, fluffy cat woman blinked and looked around as Janet VanDyne entered the room and sat down. She padded over to her on all fours. She purred and climbed up onto the couch (no problem as he claws had been removed ages ago) and laid her head in Janets
lap. The big cat-woman was plush, soft and fun to pet, so Janet stroked her and scratched her behind the ears...though she felt something was wrong. She looked at the former Avenger, and though she could remember that she'd been a teammate...she could also
remember that Tigras cat-nature had slowly taken over, and though they'd done all they could...she'd eventually become this. She could also remember that the old Tigra had the hots for her husband...so as she stroked the fat, lazy cat-woman, she said "It's
better that you're like this now, Tigra. Not a person anymore, but just an animal. A simple, stupid animal. You know that don't you?"
Tigra smiled up at Janet and purred. Janet was now her favorite Avenger and the only one to really understand her need to be a pampered house pet. It was Janet who ensured that she had planty to eat, and lots of simple cat toys to play with. Janet had even
gone so far as to have her legal statis changed so that in the eyes of the state...she was just an animal.
Janet smiled and stroked her favorite pet...
Meanwhile
Not really checking up on the events surrounding her victems (and thus not realising she'd actually made Mary Jane happy) Felicia continued playing with her new toy. She indulged herself as she looked up old teachers and enemies from her youth and turned
them into losers, perverts and bums. A flash and a hated teacher became a janitor. A stroke of a key, and a police officer became a whore. A few taps and a lawyer she'd hated was flipping burgers in McDonalds and wondering how her life could have gone so wrong.
With each change, Felicia's mania grew. She could do anything! She could be...anything!