Andrew sobbed, tears falling on his soft, pink udder with a plik-plik-plik. This was the worst thing imaginable. He couldn't even try to win back his body anymore. He could try to take off his shoes but they were laced too tight to wriggle out of. Besides, if he sat down to do that, he wasn't sure he could get back up again with a gallon of milk between his legs and no arms to balance.
He did have one option left, though... He staggered and wobbled back towards the machine, trying to catch one of his nickels with his lips. He moaned in dismay as he saw that the game had changed again. The magician's wheel now had hands that spun around in front of the slots, making it even harder. But he was desperate.
Andrew slid the coin in, practically kissing the slot. He couldn't see the wheel from here, so he had to guess. He took a deep breath through his nose and let the coin go...
The machine immediately dinged and whirred its little victory tune, and a card jabbed him in the forehead as it slid out of the prize slot. Had he done it? He grabbed the card in his mouth and dropped it on the machine's glass top, trying to flip it over to read it. Finally he saw the poem...