You stop with Paul on the outskirts of the park. Paul is laughing a little. "Dude... you look like a whole other person!" You get a little angry, you were hoping for something a bit less drastic. Paul only laughs more. "Watch that fiery temper, dude, you look like you're about to erupt." You feel hot in the face; you must be beet red with your new complexion. You collect yourself. "You had better go home before I find a reason to use this." You gesture to the police baton now on your hip, resting a hairy paw on top. "Dude, for real, I'm sorry, I didn't expect something so drastic. But don't be mad. I want to try the..." Paul looks around, whispering, "...ring... again tomorrow." You can't help but forgive him. This is your best friend after all. "Fine, call me tomorrow."
You walk home, still in uniform. It's fun seeing how people react to you. You puff your chest out a bit, and swing your freckled, hairy arms as you walk. Another young man stops you on your way, politely asking for directions. He's clearly staring at the russet curls poking out the neck of your uniform, but is trying not to. You wink at him as you walk away, and his mouth hangs open a little in rapt surprise.
You open the door to your apartment, and instantly realize something is wrong. You live on your own, but you hear someone inside. "Hello," you call out without thinking. Your hand subconsciously goes back to your baton and you pull it out. "Hey, [your name]," Travis calls out -- it's your boyfriend. He's probably here to surprise you. You gave him the key last week to drop something off, and forgot to ask for it back. He turns the hallway corner before you can bolt, and takes you in, speechless. You have to say something...