Tommy poked at his newly pudgy green belly with one newly green hand. Sure, he knew that often, traditional goblins had a little extra fat around the middle, but he wasn't supposed to *be* a traditional goblin: he was supposed to be Roscoe, *his* goblin character that he had created, and Roscoe was in world-class shape. How had this gone wrong?
While he was pondering the problem, he idly lifted a hand to scratch at his chest. "I had the picture with me at Nu U," Tommy said, talking to himself. "I asked for a goblin strain. The scientist said--" His thoughts cut off abruptly as he realized his hand where he'd been scratching was full of soft, plump flesh. "Aww man, more fat?" he said in dismay, looking down.
"Gah!" In a way, it was indeed more fat, but very strategically placed as two pert breasts right where such things should be. "Nononononono," he said, his voice raising in pitch with every repetition. After a strange sensation beneath his piled up uniform, Tommy risked a glance below, then plopped onto the ground, defeated. Tommy was Tammy--Roscoe was Rosie.
Filled with new hormones, Tammy started to cry and buried her face in her hand, barely registering that her nose was growing long and hooked, her mouth slightly wider, her ears pointed and a bit floppy, and her hair long and greasy. "How did this happen!" she wailed. "This wasn't what I wanted at all!"
Getting up from the pile of clothing, Tammy trudged naked across the now-empty football field and into the abandoned locker room, heading for a mirror. She was too short to see into the mirrors over the sinks, so she jumped up, grabbing the edge of the sink with her sharp black fingernails, and hauled herself up. Sure enough, a traditionally ugly goblin girl stared back at him, complete with yellow eyes and a mouth full of razor sharp teeth.
"Well crap," said Tammy, sitting down in the sink, head in her hands again.