"Don't think you're going to get away with this, Mr. Brown," Brenda sneared to her stolen body with the frail, whithered voice of the old man.
"Mr. Brown? Why are you calling me Mr. Brown? That's you! Have you gone senile in your old age? I think it's clear that you're Franklin Brown, and my name is Brenda Carlin. Think you can keep that straight? No one here would want to see you committed."
Franklin smiled from Brenda's body. He had stolen it, and it was his now. No one would ever believe the crazy rantings of an old man about bodyswapping...
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