Darrell looked down at his hands, which he had been resting on his desk while he thought. Something looked strange about them. He lifted them off the desk and turned them over.
What he found startled him. His palms had changed. Where before they were pale like the rest of his body, they were now a dark brown. As he watched, the brown colour flowed slowly onto the backs of his hands.
It took Darrell a few seconds to register that the colour of his hands matched that of the wood of his oak desk. He tried to flex his hands, only to find that they refused to move. He scratched himself with his elbows, not wanting to spread whatever had affected his hands.
He watched as, ever-so-slowly, his hands changed shape, extending longer, his fingers thinning. His fingers started to split, and then the ends of them started to grow green. He watched the leaves forming, shock stopping him from reacting.
He scratched his legs with his elbows again, and felt something strange. Carefully, he used his wooden hands like tools to unzip his pants and remove them, taking care not to touch his skin. Where his pants had been touching his legs, thick white hair had formed. His legs itched as the hair continued to grow, getting thicker by the moment.
The skin under his leather underwear (which he had bought as an experiment) was itching furiously, and he very carefully removed them with his wooden hands, and he found yet another shock. Whereas his legs were growing thick white hairs, his crotch and hips were growing darker as coarse black hairs grew in. His manhood started to swell, not into erection, but simply gaining in size.
Darrell had come up with an hypothesis, and he bent over to check the tag on his pants. Sure enough, they were 50% wool, and 50% polyester. Darrell understood; his body was taking the forms of any sources of DNA he touched. The virus was replacing his DNA with those in his environment.
He felt hunger pains, despite having eaten only an hour ago, and so he stumbled to the fridge. Opening it, which was difficult with his wooden hands, he spotted some ham, and without thinking, he snagged some on a branch and brought it to his mouth. He put the ham into his mouth, and then he spat it out and cursed. Alas, it was too late. He felt his entire face grow flush, and then it was as if something was pulling his face forward sharply.
Darrell stumbled to a mirror, and watched as his nose pushed forward, the tip raising as his jaw followed. The skin of his face changed, growing pinker, and his nostrils grew. Within minutes, his face was unrecognisable, looking almost exactly like that of a pig.
Darrell looked over his body. He knew he had to find a cure, and fast, as his body was being changed at an ever faster rate. The pig-headed, oak-handed, sheep-legged, bull-cocked semi-human made his way back to the desk, where he took care not to touch anything natural.
He continued to work into the night, knowing that if he went to bed, he may not wake up human at all.