Marcy nervously eyed the large tiger sleeping on the metal table. It was very big and even though it had been sedated, it was still very intimidating.
"This is Sheeba. She was born in the wild and has not been in captivity for long. She's the one you will be filling in for, " said the producer.
Marcy walked up to the creature and ran her hands along its fur. It was very soft. She could feel the tigers chest move slowly up and down as it breathed.
"She's beautiful, " said Marcy to the zoologist standing beside her.
"Thank you," said the zoologist.
"And she's healthy? No medical problems?" asked Marcy.
The zoologist's head bobbed up and down enthusiastically.
"Yes," he said. "And we hope to get her back in the same condition."
"Doctor, you will be well paid for her services. You read the contract, you signed the papers," said the producer coldly.
"Don't worry. I have done this before. I will take good care of her, " said Marcy, trying to reassure the nervous zoologist.
And it was true. Mostly. Marcy had swapped bodies with a number of animals in the past. That was why the movie producers called her when they needed to someone to help with a tiger, so they could use it for their film. But she had never been jacked in to an animal so .... big ... before.
"Okay, everybody happy. We need to get this started. We have a tight shooting schedule and the sedation should be wearing off soon," said the producer.
Marcy laid down on a metal table beside the tiger. An IV was placed in her arm as a large machine was wheeled over behind her. After they fastened the metal skullcap on her head, she tilted her head to look at the tiger napping beside her. It was hard to believe that she would be inside its body soon, that the large striped body of the tiger would soon be hers. As she heard the machine whir to life behind her, Marcy slowly drifted off to sleep.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Okay, I think she is waking up. Marcy? Marcy, can you hear me?"
Marcy struggled to open her eyes. She felt so tired and sluggish. She just wanted the voices to go away so she could go back to sleep. But the annoying voices persisted, denying her the chance to rest. So she opened her eyes.
Marcy blinked, blinded by the bright lights of the room. Her eyes adjusted quickly and she soon saw a number of men staring down at her, watching her with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Marcy was laying on her side. She struggled to sit up. But her back refused to bend. The men began to chatter nervously.
"Easy, easy ..."
Marcy relaxed a little and rested on her hands. Or rather her front paws. Marcy looked down at the large striped paws that had replaced her hands. Then she remembered everything. The hazy fog that had clouded her mind was lifted. She turned her head and saw her small human body sleeping peacefully on a table beside her.
"Everything okay, Marcy?" asked the producer.
Marcy nodded her head. Of course she could no longer speak. Well, at least not human words. Communication was going to be a bit more difficult. But it looked like the men got the message.
"Alright then. Let's get you off that table and run through a few tests, " said her handler and trainer.
Marcy stood up on all fours. The men surrounded the table on all sides, ready to catch her if she fell. She inwardly chuckled a little at that. Marcy doubted that the men could support her 450 pound body if she fell, but if it made them feel better so be it. Marcy slowly sauntered down the ramp to the floor.
On the ground, Marcy found herself looking up at the men. Not by much, though. Her head was about chest level to her trainer.
"Okay. That's good. Why don't you have a walk around the room?" asked her handler.
Marcy continued her leisurely stroll around the room, her large paws softly patting the ground. As the drugs began to wear off, it was easier, more natural. She had no desire to hurry or run, but she felt an underlying sense of the power coursing through her body, just waiting to be released. She felt like a coiled trap waiting to spring. As she continued to pace around the room, she felt a little claustrophobic. The room seemed small and confining. She wanted to get outside, to stroll in open spaces.
"Okay. Good girl. Now come over here. Come on, girl. Come here," said the handler.
Marcy wanted to roll her eyes. Although she had only done it a few times, it was always the same. Even though she was human, the handlers ended up treating her like an animal. She supposed it was their natural instinct. The trainers were just so used to working with other trained animals that the behavior was ingrained in their mind. They couldn't help themselves.
Marcy walked up to the handler and stopped in front of him.
"Okay, let's see you wag that tail. Can you wag that tail for me?"
Marcy wagged her tail back and forth. It was easy. She had been doing it unconsciously as she walked, but it was just as easy to do on command.
"Good. Good, girl, " said the handler with excitement. "Now let's see your paw."
Marcy sat on her haunches, her tail rubbing on the floor. Now that she had started, it was hard to stop. She had to consciously will her tail to stop moving. She slowly lifted a paw and placed it in her trainer's hand. It was so big. Her trainer's hand looked so small in comparison.
"Good. Now can you show me your claws. Let me so those beautiful claws, baby," said the handler.
Marcy wasn't exactly sure how to extend her claws. They seemed to naturally rest in a retracted state. She focused on her hands, flexing and stretching different muscles and tendons experimentally in her paws until she was rewarded with some very large and sharp claws. They looked to be about five inches long. They could do some real damage.
The handler seemed unconcerned. He nonchalantly dropped her paw to the ground. Her claws clattered on the hard floor, hurting a little. She relaxed and they retracted to their natural resting state. She resisted the urge to lick her sore paw.
"Okay, good girl. Now let me see those teeth. Come on, give me a smile and show me those pearly whites," said the handler.
Marcy opened her mouth, panting a little.
"Wider, wider. I want to see you smile," said the handler.
Marcy stretched her mouth wider, a little annoyed. It was not comfortable.
"A little more. I want to see those pretty fangs," said the handler.
Angrily, Marcy pulled her lips back and bared her fangs. She could feel the long, dagger-like teeth slide beneath her lips. She scrunched up the muscles around her muzzle, glaring angrily at the handler. Some of the men looked startled, almost scared. For some reason their fear gave Marcy a perverse thrill. But the handler looked unperturbed. And it hurt to hold this expression so she relaxed her face and closed her mouth.
"Good, very good. Now just one more thing and we can get to work. Let me hear you roar. Can you do that for me, baby? Can you roar for me?" asked the handler.
Marcy let loose a weak whine.
"Oh, you can do better than that," said the handler.
Marcy was annoyed again. Didn't that idiot realize how hard this was? She began to breath deeply, sucking in more air.
"Come on. You can do it, baby," said the handler.
Marcy was really beginning to not like this guy. The producer and his lackeys looked impatient. But she ignored them, still drawing in the required air. Just when it looked like they weren't paying attention, Marcy let loose with all her might and emitted a mighty roar.
She really got them this time. Several men jumped back in shock. One of them dropped a cell phone and she thought she could detect the acrid scent of fresh urine in the air. Even the handler looked a little disturbed.
"Okay, enough fun and games. We are already behind schedule. Get her to the set," said the producer as he exited the room, his lackeys following closely behind.
"Take good care of Sheeba, " said the zoologist as he gently scratched her head before leaving.
"Okay, Sheeba. Let's get you to the set. Follow me, girl, " said the handler as he walked her out of the room.
Marcy followed, growling her displeasure at being addressed by the wrong name.
"Easy, Sheeba. No need to act like a prima donna. We will take good care of you. If you behave, " said the handler with a chuckle.
Marcy wanted to roll her eyes again. It looked like it couldn't be helped. She was stuck with the name now. But for the pay she was going to receive for her acting, Marcy could live with it.
Marcy happily padded after her handler, amused by the startled expressions of the cast and crew as they saw a real tiger walk past them.