Game 4Game 4 Outline| Game 4 |
Game 4 Outline |
"I'm a physicist, for crying out loud!" Maroo responds. "Yes, I made a biology mistake, but I have a doctorate in quantum physics! I'm not a medical doctor! You think an M.D. could build a teleporter!?"
You cringe in embarassment. He's right; this isn't like those 50s sci-fi movies where a man who's supposedly an entomologist also happens to know all about the intricacies of the aliens' electronic gizmos. "Sorry," you mutter, ears drooping and face flushed. "So, um, what do I do?"
Maroo shrugs, still visibly annoyed. "There's not much you can do," he says. "I'll let you know if and when I find a way to decombine you and the cat, but I'll say up front that the odds of that aren't good. In the meantime, you're just going to have to live with it, and the first step in that is telling your parents."
"My parents are out of town for at least six months," you say. "If they call I guess I'll have to convince them over the phone, but otherwise it's going to be a while before I have to tell them what happened. And given the nature of their jobs, I might not even hear from them until they're home."
"Well," Maroo says, "you'll still have to tell them sooner or later, and I can provide you with a video from the lab security cameras of what happened; that ought to be enough to convince them of your identity. I suspect you'll need some help adjusting to your new female form well before then, though." He picks up the lab phone and punches in a number. "Chelsea," he says, "this is Dr. Maroo. Will you come down to the lab, please? We've had a little accident. No, no, everything's under control, but my assistant needs a little help."
About a minute later a woman walks in. She looks to be in her mid-20s, and has long red hair and deep green eyes. "What seems to be the problem?" she asks, then notices you. She lets out a startled yelp and jumps back before catching herself. "Sorry," she says. "Is that...is she...?"
Dr. Maroo nods. "This is my assistant. We had an accident with the teleporter a little while ago; Doris let a stray cat into the lab, and this was the result."
Chelsea nods. "I see. But what exactly do you need from me?"
"Well," Dr. Maroo replies, "the problem is that she was a boy before the accident."
Chelsea snorts. "Get out of here."
The doctor shakes his head. "I'm serious. It's on the security tapes if you don't believe me."
Chelsea stares at you with pity and confusion in her eyes. "And so you want me to help her?" she asks.
Dr. Maroo nods. "As you can imagine, she doesn't know the first thing about taking care of a girl's body, nor does she have any suitable undergarments or other 'feminine products.' She's going to be stuck like this until I can figure out a way to separate her and the cat, and we can't have an anthropomorphic cat running around town asking for feminine hygeine advice. Her parents are out of town for at least six months, so what I want you to do is stay with her until I figure out how to reverse this and help her with whatever she needs. I'll ensure that you'll be reimbursed for your time, since I'm sure you probably had plans for the next six months."
Chelsea shrugs. "Not really, but I certainly don't object to getting paid for this." She turns to you. "Well," she says, "I guess the first thing to do is to get you home without being noticed."
Written by nothingsp
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