"I believe the turns go clockwise," Eugene sing-songed, "so it should be my turn next. I will play King Mog."
He dropped down the trump with the black cat on it and they all watched as the India card already down before him flashed gold around the edges, then the black cat began to get gold stripes, morphing into a tiger as Eugene did the same. His clothes ripped and tore until at last a huge Bengal tiger sat there, licked his whiskers, and proclaimed in the same Indian accent as before, "I have this strange craving to eat small children and pancakes, not necessarily in that order. How curious." The tiger glanced to the giant Max. "I believe it is your turn."
The tiger then looked at the deck of cards. "I must draw a new one, however." He reached out a paw and carefully extended one claw to pull the top card from the stack and pull it to the pile in front of him.
"Max's turn," the incredibly hung satyr who was Paul rumbled.