If you can't beat 'em . . .

"Not especially," you say in a flat voice. "If I were tough, I probably wouldn't need help to get out of here."

Fred's demeanor changes to one of sympathy. "I can't help you in this form, but I don't think you'll need help if you're anything like me."

"What are you talking about?" you ask, just as a thin coat of fur appears across your entire body. You stare in wonder as it builds upon itself and overtakes you like wildfire. Then, with a disquieting crunch, your shoulders and hips distort in such a way that your body weight shifts dramatically. The rose bush no longer can support you, and you fall to the ground in one big fuzzy heap.

"Yeah, just like me," Fred observes. "The change isn't at all like the movies would have us believe."

You roll over and stand on all fours, finding the position surprisingly natural.

Written by Joey Liverwurst

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