As easy as falling down the stairs
You decide to go through the door on the right. You're sick of being a lizard, but it'll be worth it if you can catch up to the Men and Women in Black. Blundering around in here makes you feel like a bull in a china shop. Keep it up long enough, and you might actually become one. You need people who know what they're doing.
The door is easy enough to pull open, and you're glad to skip the knob-chewing routine this time. You take care not to knock the stick out of place; you don't want the door closing any time soon. The way this mansion behaves, you wouldn't be surprised if it turned the five people into horses retroactively.
You step through the door and nearly fall down the stairs on the other side. They lead straight up to the door - no landing, no handy little signs saying "watch your step," just stairs. You add that to your list of complaints to the architect. How is someone who's just been turned into a horse supposed to navigate a staircase? Does the door lead somewhere different for horses?
Apparently, not everyone was as lucky as you. The people you're following are at the bottom of the stairs, gathered around Byron, who is lying on the ground and moaning. The younger woman stands up as you come in.
"It's sprained, at least," she says grimly. "Possibly broken. I don't know. Either way, he won't be walking anywhere for a while."
There is a short chorus of swearing from the rest of the group.
"Well, we can't leave him here..." the motherly woman begins.
Byron interrupts her, glaring at Lance. "Why weren't the stairs on your stupid map?"
"They are on the map" - Lance holds up a large sheet of paper to prove it - "but I wasn't about to stop and check it while the Voice from the Ceiling turned me into another lizard! Why didn't you look where you were going?"
"You said run! I ran! I assumed that if there was anything life-threatening on the way, you'd tell us!"
"Life-threatening? It's a staircase!"
A close inspection of the stairs leads you to one conclusion: stairs were not designed for lizards. Each step is as tall as one of your legs. Unless you're an unusually acrobatic lizard, it looks like you might have to roll to the bottom.
You eventually manage a sort of awkward, bumpy slither that brings you down the stairs with relatively few bruises. You land with a scaly thump at the bottom. When you look up, all five humans are staring at you; your stunning display of style and grace seems to have gotten their attention.
That's what you think, at least, until the stick lands next to you with a crash. The silence that follows is broken only by a soft click as the door closes.
If you're going to stay a lizard, you've got to keep better track of what your tail's doing.
Written by Chrysalis on 15 January 2009
The end (for now)