As his enlarged digits took shape, Emilio’s head jolted forward and looked at the researcher, who was sitting indifferently and looking off to the side.
“Different milk?” She casually spoke on the phone, unaware of the frantic man across from her. “What do you mean by 'different milk'? I just used all the bottles that were in the…”
“EXCUSE ME!” Emilio yelled, reaching over and grabbing her shoulder with his thick three-fingered hands. “But I’m growing pink fur and have hooves for hands over here!”
The woman's eyes darted over to Emilio and then to his hand. Her chatting grinded to a halt for several seconds, staring at the scene before saying to the caller, “…I see what you mean by different milk. Listen, I’ll call you back.”
She shut the phone off and gazed at Emilio's arm again. She gave him a weak smile and said...