"I have seen the future and it is... pink??"
With a lot of splashing around your feet (paws, whatever) find solid ground, and after groping a bit to find out which way it slopes, you turn toward the shallow part and keep walking until you are on dry land. Well, as dry as it can get with a soaked dog standing on it anyway.
Giving in to your new canine side, you shake yourself dry and start looking around as the blue light fades. You are in some kind of park, and you have an awkward feeling that you should be particularly interested in the trees. To distract yourself, you look down trying to figure out what kind of dog the dog paddle has turned you into.
You suppress a gasp of surprise as you see a pair of dainty forelegs that are mostly furless, only the joints are covered with thick, curly fur. Pink fur. You thought dogs were colour blind, but apparently you are not colour blind enough to avoid seeing that loud, almost day-glow colour.
Whimpering softly, you throw yourself on your back and roll over tossing your head every which way to take in as much of your new body as possible. Everything you see verifies the first impression. You are furry in places, almost clean shaven in others, and pink all over.
Paddling in a puddle has made you a poodle. And you used to love wordplay.
Written by Won-Tolla on 28 July 2007