On Second Thought, It's *Really* Cold Out Here.
It's not been a minute, and already you're covered with a layer of snow. If you go out there, it's popsicle time for you, and summer's not for another six months. You look up at the mansion, towering thousands, yea, *thousands* of feet above your head!
"Touche, mansion... touche," you say.
Awkwardly, you open the door again and peek your head in.
"Uh, hey Mr.Voice?" you say, "I know we've had a bad start, but I'd really like to talk about this whole 'mandatory transformation thing.' You see
WHOA THAT'S A COLD WIND!"
Aforementioned wind pushes you far into the main lobby of the mansion.
Behind you the door shuts, bolts, locks, is chained, pressure-seals, and is finally covered by a layer of magma which quickly solidifies into a rocky lump of
impassibility.
...Huh.
"Squeak!" With a cry of surprise you get fur round your eyes and the floor rises up from up under you. Then your naked tail grows there's a swell of your nose and your shrinking of your clothes does plunder you. As you sway wide awake with a dismal headache and your hands and feet turn to clawed furry paws, you collapse mild and meek with one last dismal squeak as four huge incisors pop in your rodent jaws.
... you're a rat.
Written by Mr.Peaches on 14 November 2006