"Let's...let it be the tank," Dan stammered his thoughts over to Kat, who responded with her usual inordinate glee that made him instantly think he had made the wrong choice.
Before he could communicate doubts, Kat whisked him inside a tank in the family room. He was sinking toward the floor of the tank, making his eyestalks swivel to get a better view, when he realize she hadn't picked him up and dropped him into the tank. She had simply transported him in the blink of an eye.
For that matter...
"Has this tank always been here?" He wondered.
"Of course not, silly," Kat said.
"I wasn't asking you," Dan said, prickly about her ability to log into his thoughts.
"The days ahead might get boring," Kat said. "You might appreciate having someone to talk..."
"I'll manage."
She frowned and gazed into the tank. "I have better things to do anyway," she said and, just like that, left him alone.
Dan shrugged it off and busied himself exploring the tank. He guiltily realized Kat had taken some time to create such a deluxe habitat. She had rooted some seaweed and sponges into the sand and gravel covering the bottom of the tank. A cave of rock looked like an inviting lair. He kept his thin legs scurrying over every inch of the tank in his enthusiasm for his new home. The surroundings helped enhance his feeling of liberation.
As he scuttled about the tank, an odd sensation began to impress itself on him. His shell, his quintessential part of being a lobster, began to feel tight and confining. The feeling continued to grow until it began to overtake his earlier enthusiasm.
Although completely immersed, Dan felt dehydrated. He could had chugged a gallon jug of water. His plump body became less so. What the hell was...
Heavy duty contractions began as his body continued to draw out water, remove blood, and shrivel its delectable flesh, limbs and even claws. He felt like he was being slowly emptied. He spent hours like that. Something... must...have gone wrong, he thought.
He was still pondering hours later when his entire body began to spasm. He felt his rigid shell snap and twist. He suddenly heard a shocking "crack" as his tail flexed and broke away from the rest of his body. Now new instincts took over. He only wanted to gain his freedom from the remnants of the shell. He turned listlessly on his side and began to back slowly out of the broken shell.
He struggled. His claws were the worst. He barely managed to slide himself through the jointed section of his "wrists."
When he finally struggled free of the shell about a half hour later, Dan felt exhausted. He wanted to crawl into the dark cave in the tank and hide, but he found he couldn't move. Outside of the shell, he was a quivering pulp of jelly.
"What have I done?" Dan panicked.
Dan was being introduced to one of the limits of having an exoskeleton that doesn't expand. In order to accommodate all his plumpness that he had bestowed on himself in his new self image, he needed to shed his shell just like an actual lobster in a process called “molting.” He still had more to learn as an actual lobster.