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“So, please remind me why I was chosen for this again?”
“Dear, you were chosen cause the writer willed it so.” The lady proclaimed, lifting up the man’s arms and stretching a measuring tape across it, mentally remembering his measurements before continuing with the rest of his body. The room they were in was plain white, with only a few features; a desk, a chest of drawers and a few chairs.

“Well I know that, but why me?” He complained, shifting and holding stiff wherever the lady moved her measuring tape, a wordless agreement between the two characters.
“Perhaps you were just unlucky. Or lucky, for that matter. Out of the infinite number of Toms in the world, you just happened to be chosen. Which then raises questions if you are even real, but that’s for the philosophers and the crazies. Stand up please sweetie.”

He stood up, looking forward into the blank white walls before glancing back. “So this… writer guy decided to do all this, then?” Tom was a simple man, with a simple, grey shirt and a pair of black pants. The lady that was doing his measurements seemed to be in her early thirties, middle aged with her hair done up and in a loose, simple shirt and long skirt, the colours varied, her skin slightly blemished.

“Mhmm, that’s right. Although, the writer could be anyone. Could do anything, really.”
“...Right. So, why does becoming a fictional animal require my measurements?”
“Oh, no reason. I just like taking measurements and needed some filler to get the tone of the narrative down.” The lady threw the measuring tape back onto the desk and strolled over to the chest of drawers beginning to open them and rifle through each one gently. “Now honey, you have a couple different options here. There’s a lot of different things that people like to do with this kinda stuff, ranging from really common to oddly specific. You got potions, needles, ray guns…”
“Uh, something a little less cliché?”

She closed the top chest of drawers and moved down one, beginning to look through it. “Let’s see… curses, magic, goo, latex-”
“People really aren’t too original, are they?”
“Ornament it after thy own fashion, Trim.” She said, chuckling to herself before closing the second chest and moving it down. “I wonder how many people will recognise that reference, if at all.”
“Well, the writer will, won’t he?”
“Of course, he put the words in my mouth.” She remarked, continuing to rifle through the drawers. “Ooo, some more unique stuff here. Scenery based natural accidents, noticed by higher powers, perhaps ideas inspired by the creature itself… Mm, although a lot of it seems kinda painful, the deeper I look…”
“...Jeez, I don’t want that. Whatever, fine. I’ll just choose the potion or something.”
“Good choice. Sometimes the simple solution is the best solution.” She reached back into the top drawer and pulled out a conical vial of a black, murky mixture before beginning to walk back over to him. “Get it? Solution?”

With an unimpressed, stone-faced expression he snatched the vial out of the lady’s hand much to her amusement before popping the cork on it, giving the liquid inside a sniff. It smelt… odorless, yet was slightly viscous, like milk. “What is this again? Umbreon, or something?”
“That’s right, sweetie.”
“And I have to do this?”
“The narrative says you have to, sorry darling.”

Tom paused, glancing at the liquid before rolling his eyes, raising it to his lips. “Well, let’s get this over with. Bottoms up.” He muttered before tipping it back, skulling the entire thing in one go before bringing the vial down, the inside still coated with black dregs of the liquid before Tom groaned a little, pulling a somewhat disgusted face. “Tastes like liquorice and cheap vodka, yuck.” He said, trying to condense the taste into one focal point in his mouth before washing it away with his saliva. “So, uh, when is it meant to kick in?”
“Give it a moment, the writer probably has to bring up his reference image.”
“What reference ima- Oh, shit!” Tom exclaimed as suddenly, a deep feeling in his gut rocked his core, shaking him off balance as the room briefly swam, staggering about like a drunkard before the room finally stabilised, shaking his head before looking up at the woman. “That was meant to happen, right?”

“Yes dear, I can even start to see your arm hair growing as we speak.” She casually remarked, leaning against the plain desk before putting a finger to the corner of her mouth, crossing an arm over her waist as before she gestured with her finger towards the wall. “Maybe lean on that? It’ll help you stay upright for a little while longer and delay the inevitable. The readers will eat that up.”

Tom narrowed his eyes, a strange stare at the lady as he idly scratched at his neck, the hairs on the back of his neck lengthening, changing texture to quickly became a short coat of black fur, small patches beginning to break out all over him in spots. By the second, his body was beginning to look thinner and thinner, shoulders looking less broad, the muscles in his body slowly looking less apparent. “What is this, some kind of deviant photo shoot?” He remarked before slowly shuffling towards the wall, his feet already feeling uncomfortable in his plain sneakers that could be coloured to however the reader wanted. “...Hang on, why’s my body looking so small already? Am I seriously turning into a girl?”
“Them’s the rules, honey. Sorry about that.”
“That was pretty out of nowhere! Where’s the buildup to this?!”
“It’s in the title, people come in expecting to be satisfied. Can you believe the writer used to not do that? The madman.”

“Could’ve at least wrote it in a little better…” Tom muttered to himself, beginning to lean against the wall as in a short span of time, standing on the balls of his feet became so much more comfortable. His shoes felt loose and with a motion he lifted one off and shook it off, taking the loose sock with it. His toes were curled slightly around his somewhat elongated foot, the thick plushness of a paw being felt as he slightly flexed his toes and pressed it back onto the floor, his toenails now growing and condensing into one point to become short claws. The jet black fur began to crawl its way up his foot, disappearing into his pant leg, as his pants began to slowly slide down his hips.

“...That was… frightfully descriptive for one part of the body.” Tom said, coughing as he just noticed his voice had raised a pitch or two, sounding ever more effeminate. “God, this thing really kicks in fast, doesn’t it?”
“You betcha, sweetie. You’re doing great, by the way, really ticking all the boxes.” She strolled over to face opposite from him, making a rectangular frame with her fingers and looking through it at him, all while his ears lengthened, changing shape into long point, covered in a fine layer of felt-like fur. His eyes slowly began to shift towards a red colour, a small muzzle becoming apparent on his damper, more mammal-like nose. The fur continued to take over his face all while his hair, now black, lengthened ever so slightly, looking quite cute before beginning to shed and fall out. He glanced up, breathing heavily as he could feel the fur tickling his inner thigh, the feeling of space between his legs as his pants slipped down further, the waistband revealing his underwear clued him in that she was probably a girl now.

She grumbled, her back painfully sliding down the white wall as her hands tried to hold onto the walls, legs trembling with as the second shoe was abandoned long ago. She adjusted her legs, forcing the long, quadrupedal legs blanketed in oversized clothes back against the wall. A tail had begun to bud at the back of her tailbone, quickly growing downwards and quickly fluffing up with black fur. Finally, she got a word out. “Nnggh… So, I’m a… girl, now? Do I have to change my name via an offhand mention now?”
“Do whatever you like, sweetie. Oh, do you mind turning around, by the way? Lean against the wall the other way.”
She grumbled, slowly shifting her aching, shaking legs and spinning around on the balls of her paws, her arms (now forelegs) placed in front of her, watching with large, red eyes as the remaining semblance of hands turned into paws, simple three-toed appendages with her thumb shrunken and absent, now a dew paw on the side. Her arms were draped in the sleeves of her shirt, looking backwards with a worried expression on her face. “...Is... “ She had to swallow all the saliva in her mouth, slightly sharper canines felt on her flatter tongue. Words came slightly harder as the changes certainly came to an end. “Is this good?”

“Perfect, sweetheart. I think we’re just about done. Alright, you can get down from the wall now. Don’t worry about losing your mind when you touch the floor, we’re all safe here.”
She trembled, taking a deep breath before pushing off from the wall, before realising her mistake, beginning to fall backwards like a ladder would and flailing, before hitting the floor. With a grumble she picked herself up as the lady pulled off her shirt, before she shook herself off, her ears flopping around before a final pressure built up inside her… and all of a sudden, blue rings glowed brightly around her body, shining for a few moments before fading back before she opened her eyes. They were now yellow.

The lady whistled, bending down onto her knees and staring into the Umbreon’s eyes. “Well, looks like you got the whole package. Both a gender change AND shiny? The writer really wants to shine, huh.”
“...Mm… wait, really?” She remarked, glancing down to the side of her front foreleg before making an exasperated groan, throwing her head back like a drama queen. “Man, this sucks! They really wanted me to jump through all the hoops…”
“Well, it’s not so bad. You could’ve been anthropomorphic, gained weight, had your mind erased-”
“Alright, alright, stop. I get it, it’s not so bad.”

The lady grinned as they stared at each other. Minutes passed with an awkward silence as they eventually grew impatient, looking around the essentially featureless white room.
“...So, what now?” Tom asked, cocking her head and sitting on her haunches as the woman thought.
“Well, this part is usually for the epilogue. Some people like to write good endings, the person is happy and they run off into a forest or something and have a family-”
“Pass.”
“Or you could have bad ends. The person ends up being unhappy kept as a pet or left in a lab for experimentation-”
“Even worse!”
“Or you could just have the third option.” She said, looking up in a thoughtful manner.
“...What’s that?”
“The writer leaves the reader on some kind of eventful cliffhanger that leaves them wanting fulfillment but in actuality he’s just too lazy to write any sort of closure because that’s boring and everyone is here for the meat of the story anyways.”
“What sort of writer would do that-”

The door to the room that only now just existed burst open, someone important to Tom staring in with a confused stare as the two of them looked back in a shocked expression, leaving the reader with the question of how Tom will get out of this one.