Honey... I'm Reptilian.

Your wife is puttering around the kitchen, asking "Why's it so bright in here, hon?" She hasn't spotted you yet. Well, it's not like there's any conceivable way that you're going to be able to hide this, so...

"Naomi, hon..." you hiss through your jaws (who knew you had such powers of language?), "I'm afraid I'm going to have to break your sanity for a moment. If you'd step into the living room slowly please, with something soft to squeeze in your hand to help release the tension."

"You're such a card," she giggles. "Okee dokee then, sugar, I've got a bag of marshmallows in my left hand and I'm comin' in! That OK?"

"...Just fine..." you hiss.

"Here I..."

(pause)

(screaming)

(falling marshmallows)

(flailing)

(antics with broomsticks)

(protesting hisses)

(a good many minutes)

********

"So, it was this, then? This stuff in here?" Naomi is now looking over the Gator-Aid bottle, still mostly full. You are still "lying" on the floor, as is your reptilian custom. You've explained to her about the wolf, the seeming sense of deja vu, and now the fact that the supernatural refused to end when you woke up.

"Yes, that was it," you reply. "Naomi... you'd tell me if you were just my dream wife, right?"

Naomi nods. It's not even a joke at this point. Of course she's been a peach about the whole thing, although I didn't exaggerate when I said a *good* many minutes up above. But hey, that's why you married her. You've got about thirty minutes left before you revert to human form.

She's now petting and prodding you curiously, her inquisitive mammalian instincts taking advantage of the fact that you're not a true-born predator. It's like an exotic petting zoo where one knows they're safe from dismemberment.

"Well, I guess the world's decided to go a little loopy today," she says, "I didn't notice anything as I went on that trip, or anything earlier, but... well, here's the evidence. What do we do now?"

Written by Mr.Peaches

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