You could smell skunk. You were once sprayed by a skunk at a very young age, and the stench was burned into your memory. The smell became stronger as the new student came into the room, and it was clear that the stink came from her. Here was a pudgy young lady with the black and white fur of the infamous mammal. Her face was surprisingly human despite her skunk muzzle, almost like a living cartoon character. Wavy pastel lavender hair cascaded down her back, a blue bow tying it together at the bottom. From the back of her skirt grew a huge, fluffy tail that had been groomed smooth. She was nervously alternating between rubbing at her arms and fiddling with her circle rimmed glasses. All around her you could see that she was draped in a faint green cloud of musky gas.
You homeroom teacher, Mr. Akira, strode into the room soon after, showing no indication that he noticed that the new girl was an anthropomorphic skunk. “Class,” he announced, “This is our new transfer student Petunia Stripetail. She’s here all the way from Yorkshire, England.” He looked over at her with a look of encouragement. “Why don’t you introduce yourself, young lady?”
“M-me?” she stuttered in a light English accent, “Oh, oh n-no, sir! I couldn’t p-possibly... umm... G-good morning everyone” She stood ramrod stiff, “M-my name is P-Petunia. P-please ignore the smell, us skunk people c-can’t quite h-help it.”
Gosh she’s such a nervous nancy. She seems really jumpy, almost as though she were a wild animal.
“Umm... p-please, Mr Akira sir?” Petunia stammered, “Where do I s-sit?”
“You’re assigned to sit to the left of Mr. Doe,” the teacher explained, “He’s the young man with the hair covering his eyes.” With a bow and a quiet thank you, the new girl scurried to her seat, right next to yours. She sat as if she were trying to make herself as small and unnoticeable as she possibly could.
Oh yeah. This school was going to tear this stinky new girl a new one. Unquestionably.