"Uh… Hmm… Could you help me take this costume off?" You say with a stutter. What if they don't believe you?
"Why are you here? Hang on a second, I'll bring you to the place you belong to." You stand there, astonished: if he were truthful, why aren't you seeing more costume wearers in the zoo itself? All the visitors were human, so maybe the costume wearers all — uh oh. (A zoo, remember!)
Your more astute hearing picks up the mumbling "the zipper's on the waist, tell no one about this."
You return to the costume store. It's unmanned and had no security cameras, so you safely unfasten the zipper on your upper waist. Sure enough, the suit did detach itself from you: the upper part comes off like a backward jacket and gloves, while you lose control of your lower torso, hind legs and tail, the costume falling off like pants on your (now only pair of) legs that once again have their heels on the ground. Your muzzle retracts into your face, you feel your sense of smell dilapidate, your colour vision returns to normal, and your ears move back to the sides of your head. The clothes you forgot to take off before you donned the suit are still with you. Phew!
You pick up the costume, fold it up, and head to the main gate again.
"Can I keep this now?"
"You followed my instructions well. This is yours to keep, once again, for free." So that penny thing was meant to be a joke after all.
The greyhound taur costume folded neatly in your arms, you walk out to your car when you realize you could free many more than yourself from a similar fate. Taking an abandoned cardboard box from next to a vending machine, you took out a marker from your pocket, and write "THE ZIPPER IS ON YOUR WAIST" on it while discreetly squatting behind your car. You fold the cardboard box and return to the zoo. It only then came to you that the worker forgot to ask you for your ticket twice! Is he that apathetic towards his job? Or is it silent resentment against the shady dealings of the zoo, given the directions he pointed you towards?
You first test this out with the tiger exhibit. You unfold the cardboard to display the message, which the tigers saw. They reached their front paws to their waists, undoing the zipper. You watch in fascination as the costumes detach from the victims' body and return to their obviously artificial appearances, while all other visitors watch in abject horror. Once they returned to humanity, the animals in the other exhibits followed suit. The visitors, now realising they are scammed, turn irate, rushing out of the main gate furiously.
Amidst the crowd, you return to your car, placing the costume into your trunk, and, after entering through the driver's seat, drive home peacefully. No more leaning your driver's seat backwards till it's flat anymore!
The driveway is now flooded with cars from the people who were leaving en masse. Probably have to wait it out, you think to yourself. As you turn on your radio and tune it to your favourite song, the queue disperses at a snail's pace and you can only exit the parking lot after 15 minutes. Whew. After that, it's just another drive home, this time as a human again.