You're so busy trying to figure out what tail to grab that you barely notice when someone runs up behind you and sticks you in the butt!
"Sqeee!" you squeel as you feel your body start to change. You feel your shirt stretch against your pink skin, your ears get thick and floppy and your nose sticks out. You stumble, still trying to grab tails as your hands and feel slowly change into cloven hooves!
You panic, you know that you have to get more tails if you want to win this game!
You grab at a beaver tail, spotting a kid not so far away with sizable buck teeth, but are frustrated when another kid grabs it out of your hands and runs off. Even as you reach for another, you fall forward to the ground and squeal!
Dazed, you wander away from the tail box, seeing all the transformed kids. A farm hand of some sort attaches a halter around a horse a few feet away, another grabs a goose, clipping his wings before he can escape.
It isn't long before you feel a rope tied around your neck. The game isn't over, but you're clearly no longer a player. You try to resist, but the farm hand leads you to a pen with a couple of other pigs.
The three of you try hard to ignore each other. A few hours pass, and a couple of men come over to the pen. "Which one?"
They look the three of you over, finally pointing at the pig next to you. "That one is fat enough," he says. All three of you, particully the one chosen, react with horror and start flailing around the pen. A farmhand manages to deftly tie a rope around the chosen pigs next and drags him from the pen and out of earshot.
Hours later, you smell the distinct scent of roast pork in the distance.
You realize that, up to that very moment, you'd had the luxery of hoping this was all some kind of twisted game. Now you know that, at best, you've got a few days or weeks before you're led to slaughter.