"Well," says Nate. You cringe - is he going to be able to keep from squealing? "It ... depends," says Nate. He's speaking slowly and deliberately, trying really hard not to lose control. "What sort ... what sort of animal ... do ... you ... like?"
"Well, um, how about something small?" says Nate's customer. "I like small animals."
"Oink," says Nate, "I mean ... okay." Nate picks out a mouse balloon and hands it to the guy. As always, the string loops itself around the guy's wrist and ties itself into a knot.
"Hey, thanks," he says. "My name's John, what's yours?"
"It's..." Uh oh. Nate gets a worried look on his face. You can tell that he can remember what his name USED to be, before he started turning into a pig. But for some reason he doesn't seem to be able to say it. He's struggling now: "It's ... I'm ... my name's..." he says, then takes a deep breath. "It's Nate!" he bursts out quickly, but then his new piggish nature takes control of him and he can't stop himself from adding, "Pig-Nate! SQUEEEEEEEEAL!"
"What the fuck?" gasps your customer with the cow balloon.
"What's happening to you?" John shrieks. Nate's change is almost immediate - the impact of saying his new name AND squealing was clearly pretty intense. His belly quivers, and then continues pushing outward, rounding and softening and bulging above his speedos. His ass grows, too, his ass cheeks wobbling like jello. His chest gets rounder - his arms widen - his thighs get broad and soft and fleshy. Snorting a bit, Nate grabs his sides, and his fingers sink deep into his squishy lovehandles, smooshing them out.
"What...what..." your customer is dumbfounded. You turn to him.
"It's a curse," you explain. "We have to sell these magic balloons to people, or else we'll keep turning into a balloon-pig and balloon-monkey."
"That sounds a little contrived," says your customer.
"GRUNT! Grunt...OINK!" says Nate. Can he not talk at all anymore?
"Wait," says John, looking up at his mouse balloon. "Does this mean that me and Tom are going to turn into mouse and cow balloons?"
"I think so," you say. "I'm sorry. I don't want to do it. But we have to. I mean - " you gesture at yourself: your huge dopey monkey ears, your apeishly bent knees that are keeping you balanced on your big dumb monkey feet. "Look at us! We can't stay trapped like this. We look so stupid! I'm turning into a balloon monkey, for God's sake."
"Snort," says Nate. "Oink...grunt."
"And my friend is a fat, grunting pigboy," you add, putting an arm around Nate. You can feel that he's still growing fatter and softer...he's probably up to 230 or so by now.
"Well, I think he looks sexy," says John, and you find yourself agreeing. You never thought you'd think this way, but pig-talk or no, Nate looks kind of hot when he's chubby. And the fact that he can't talk is ... well, it's weird, but you kind of like it. You find yourself wishing that he'd grunt some more, or better yet, squeal.
"And I don't think turning into a balloon monkey is a total disaster," says your customer, whose name is Tom. "I think... I think you look kind of good. Wait, what am i saying? That's ridiculous...you LOOK ridiculous ... but ... somehow ... I think I kind of like it."
He shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Something about this island has this strange effect on peoples' thought process, you realize - in fact, you're in agreement with Tom. Being a balloon monkey feels completely humiliating and embarrassing, but it's a GOOD sort of sensation ... something you think you want more of.
"But wait," you say, "you guys might be about to turn into balloon animals yourselves! You ... you can't possibly want that! It would be a disaster! Right?"