Instead of digging to deeply into all the question about the nature of reality that these gloves are presenting, the only question he wants to answer now is, "what happens if I use these gloves on myself?"
Alex goes down the hall to the bathroom and in front of the mirror. He looks himself in the eye, raises his gloved hand and slowly and deliberately brings it in front of his face. "Here goes nothing," he says and boops his snoot. To Alex's great surprise, the glove was stuck to his nose. Try as he may to pull his hand away, he only succeeded in pulling on his own face. He brought his other hand to help pull his first away, and at first it seemed to be working. However, looking in the mirror, Alex sees that it's his nose that is being pulled away from his face, not the glove. With each tug, his face pulled out a little bit more, bringing his mouth and a bit of cheek with it until a comically large proboscis sat upon his face
Easing up a little bit, his face did to return to its previous position. Instead it settled in more naturally with a black cone at the end of a muzzle. Getting desperate to separate this glove from his face, Alex grips his protruding muzzle with his off hand while pulling away with the other. His four fingered grip sinks into it with a squish sound, like it's not fully solid, and its mass seems to be pushed outwards making his nose inflate and forcing his tongue to spill out the front, now broad and long like a canine's.
Finally, with one last tug, his arm becomes almost fully extended before the glove detaches from his face. The muzzle flings back and accordions into his head, completely covering it from view. After a second, it springs back out with a "boing", revealing a now fully tooned face; expressive eyes, pointy ears and predatory teeth, inked outlined "fur" brushing out around his cheeks, and of course, a long, thick muzzle capped with a big black nose and a foot long fire engine red tongue lulling out the side. No mistaking it, Alex had the face of a cartoon wolf... or coyote... or fox.
In fact, as Alex examined himself, he couldn't help but think that he's too generic, lacking too much detail. Mojo became a fully realized cartoon version of himself, while Alex is not even colored! "I look more like a -you're character here- template. What happened?" Alex asks aloud.
"Might it be because" Mojo explains from the other room, "you had an idea of was a cartoon tabby cat looks like? But when you turned those gloves on yourself, you had no idea what you would come out as? and so that's what you've become; a blank slate to be filled in and characterized?
"And if so, then you're now presented with a once in a life-time opportunity. The chance to define yourself however you like. Better not screw it up."
That cat has a point. This could be a one-time chance for Alex to become what ever he wants, albeit a furry cartoon version of it. What does he decide to become?