'Seriously, where do these idiots come from?' I thought, watching my boss's new reptile take shape through the plastic divider. I hate working main register, because then you always have get out the documents and get these ex-people back into the chamber and witness the completion of the process. Some flaky teenage clerk has to take over the register until you can get back, and these transformations can last 20 or 30 minutes. Then the boss is on your case because customers were getting over- or under-charged during your shift. I only wanted this job to get out of the house a little more, meet some new people, and maybe get a little extra dough so I can supplement my retirement. Not to be some kind of mystical gatekeeper for all these pervs that just want to jack off with two dicks.
Seriously, what were these people thinking? That there worries were over and they could just tune out and live however they wanted for the rest of their life? They were going to be ANIMALS. They were pets! They were completely at the mercy of this shop and whatever random customer walked through the door to buy them. They could be abandoned, neglected, abused, euthanized, or yes, they could be well-taken care--as pets. They would spend their whole lives swimming around a tank or waiting for their masters to get home so they could beg for another treat. They might get famous, if they ended up in the right viral video, animal performance venue, or pet contest. But they would never do something important all on their own again, as MEN (or as women).
The most disgusting part is when they get their new nonhuman genitalia, especially when you have to watch their privates morphing into something disgusting like this snake guy ended up with. Usually that's when the really impulsive ones lost it and started screaming to be let out of the chamber. They probably had some sick fantasy about sharing a bedroom with some hot piece of ass and watching their master get naked every night. Even if it came true, it doesn't mean much when have a knot or a cloaca or a spiky pair of snake dicks. The ones who can't wait to take advantage of their new equipment were even worse--apparently, they don't need anyone else, or they think they can actually get used to fucking other house pets for the rest of their days. I wonder how many of them end up neutered? Sometimes we sell them that way in store, but typically we leave it for the owners decide.
I honestly think this guy didn't even know what a snake had down there. How can you come into a store and sign away your life to become something you don't even know anything about? Their they go back up into his ass--or, at least the same opening where his ass is now anyway. He probably thinks his snake vent is some special personal part of him, now, like a man's privates, like what he gave up. Unfortunately, it's just another opening I'm going to have to force open and look into when its time to do the external completeness check. I can't wait until my niece opens her new bakery in a couple weeks! I'm totally gonna quit this job.
It usually gets pretty intense when their skeleton starts to change. Does this guy have any idea how long a snake IS? Oh, man, look at that face he's making, he must thinking he's dying right now. He might as well be: I have paperwork to that effect under the front desk. Damn, that snake tail is disgusting! It looks slimy, even though I know it wouldn't feel that way. It wouldn't that be gross if it weren't for this part of the job. I used to love working with animals, even snakes! But it makes it hard to eat dinner when you have to go home after seeing a snake tail tearing through someone's skin and ripping apart what's left of his old ass. To think, when I had kids by my first-wife, I would be standing here watching their generation do THIS. It just isn't worth a little extra pocket money! Maybe some of these other employees could enjoy it.
I never can tell whether the ones who get tails start flailing them around on purpose or if they just aren't really sure what to do with them at first. I probably wouldn't know what to do with one either, but I'm not the kind that wants one. They always look shocked, like its some kind of spiritual enlightenment. Well, duh, if you're turning into a snake you should know you're going to get a tail. You HAVE to so you can get around, those arms and legs are just going to be vestigial little bones inside you, poking out from your little snake skeleton. How big a deal can it be? I guess I'll never know, call me old-fashioned, but I'm not the type that wants.
Shit, look at him. He looks like some kind of snake charmer that's been sewn together with its snake by some kind of mad scientist. In a way, I guess I'm kind of a mad scientist myself, running his chamber several times a week, sometimes more. I probably should have taken those sci-fi dystopias more seriously back in English class all those years ago. What's he doing now? Oh, yeah, charming it around in front of him, grinning at it like a... well, like some kind of mad scientist. They always look so accomplished after they finally get control of their damn tails. I guess they might as well enjoy having control over something. Maybe taking charge of something that just grew out of your own ass is a relief after you've given away full control over your whole life. I'd rather be able to achieve something greater than what even a fucking rat is able to do, if you ask me. Enjoy your wiggly butt-rope, bozo! You're not even gonna have opposable thumbs in ten minutes!
Well, now he's discovered that his legs are shrinking. Maybe now he will have some idea of what he's giving up. You never really can tell with these types. I hope I haven't been thinking out loud too much, I don't know how much of this he's heard. I hope Jimmy isn't out there giving back somebody a hundred instead of a ten like he did last week.