Watching his opponent's reaction and subsequent quick exit confirmed for Khamrud that something was very wrong. Aside from the sudden growling and barking, he had felt his backbone stretching, and he had also felt new skin and hair spilling out from underneath his tunic. Something long was sticking out behind him, but the sudden urge to flatten his ears was supplemented by an urge to tuck his backbone underneath himself. What came probing forward from behind him through the space between his legs was a thick, tan-furred, slightly shaggy, somewhat curved appendage, indistinguishable from what any common street mutt might wield beyond its hind legs.
"No, not one of these!" exclaimed Khamrud, the uncomfortable recognition only serving to curl the thing in tighter toward his belly. Unwilling to accept this latest delivery from the curse, he built up his nerve, latched both hands onto it, yanked as hard as he could (in the hope that it might come off), and found out first-hand what any canine feels when a human pulls its tail. He howled and even brayed a little, forcing himself to let go in defeat.
"This isn't fair!" he said, still feeling aftershocks of pain throbbing in his new appendage and radiating up his back. "At least humans do have ears. What am I supposed to do with a tail?"
He reached back up to feel his donkey ears, displeased to find that they were still the same. They hadn't reverted to human lobes or even transformed into dog ears to match his tail.
"Why couldn't it have just been ONE random species?" he thought to himself. "What sort of mixed up mess am I going to end up as?"
At this point it really started to sink in that he was about to kill someone purely in cold blood for the first time in his life--not because they were still threatening him or even because he needed what they had, but rather out of the sheer rage and a desire for total dominance. His mother was always worried that his life of crime would lead him further and further down an ever darker and more reprehensible path, and for the first time he was forced to ask himself whether she might have been right. If the curse hadn't stopped him, he would have been a true murder by now.
"Well, at least that's one thing I can thank the genie for," thought Khamrud. "But I'm not putting up with this curse any longer." It was time for him to either try some good deeds and hope they would be acceptable to the curse, or see if he could find anyone who might break the curse.