Chris was walking down the street flashing his new bling like a rap star. He couldn't believe that dirty old bowl was a one-of-a-kind 17th century witch's cauldron, and was worth nearly eight grand at auction! (Not nearly that much at a pawn shop, but still a jackpot.) All told, after he and his friends sold the part of the loot they'd decided to sell today, Chris's share had been enough to buy some new diamonds and gold to hang around his neck.
"I look chill, yo," he'd said in the mirror back at the jewelry shop when he saw how he looked with his new accessory. Chris thought he was big and bad, and boy was he strutting his stuff! He saw an old man in a trenchcoat and fedora moving slowly down the narrow sidewalk in front of him. Chris wasn't in any hurry--he was taking his time showing off--but he saw the opportunity to bully somebody and took it. He strolled up right behind the old man's back and punched him in the back a little bit (not too hard).
"Hey old man, g-rrrrrrr-et out of the way!"
The old man jumped and moved to the side, saw the flashy youth who had growled at him, and got a mocking look on his face. "No problem, youngster. It sounds like you're TOP DOG, heh heh."
Chris sneered and stepped on passed him into the crosswalk and beyond, strutting taller and swaggier to compensate. Why HAD he sounded like that? He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the darkened window of an abandoned storefront and saw black and white hairs sticking out over the top of his shirt. "What?!" he exclaimed. He pulled up his shirt and saw the fur he had grown on his torso. It was white on his chest and black elsewhere, from what he could tell. He touched it in shock. He couldn't touch his abs in a certain place on his side, though, because it would make his leg kick and he would almost fall over. He wondered what was happening to him.
Chris put his shirt back down and hurried a little faster, wanting to get out of the public eye as quickly as possible.