It was hysterical. All-star quarterback Jimmy Brown was a little bundle of orange and black fur. His green eyes glistened all teary like, and he started to mewl.
"Aw, lil Jimmy doesn't like being a tiger anymore?" you taunt commenting on the team name The Tigers, as well as Jimmy's current condition.
Reading both yours and Jimmy's thoughts, the genie says, "He cries because he is hungry for milk, not because he is a tiger cub. And I sense you had him transformed because you were jealous and wanted to be on the Tigers' team too."
"Well, maybe a bit. I suppose I should wish for something for him to eat, the yowling is really annoying," you say.
"Well, that's your three wishes then," smirks the genie.
"What? I never made three wish-russss," you growl. You start to itch all over.
"In your heart of hearts you wish to be a tiger. So be it, and since you wish to feed Jimmy, you shall be his mother: a female tiger."
"No, I neverrrrrrrr, Ry raunt troobee a frutball plurrrr! Not trrygyrrr" you roar.
"Sorry, only three wishes to a customer."
Jimmy has stopped crying and started sniffing. He crawls toward you with his hung hanging out. You drop to all fours and roar as orange and black fur covers your body. Fangs and claws grow as your body expands to twelve feet of feline muscle. You'd rend that genie to shreds later, your maternal instincts take over and you go to feed your cub. Your mighty paw wipes away the vestiges of your clothing to give Jimmy Brown purchase to your engorged teats. His tiny mouth begins suckling. You are content. The genie smiles another satisfied customer, now for the next sucker.