"I'm...a lion..." you say again. You smile with your new rubbery lion face. You twitch your new tail side to side and push your stomach in and out. You can't help but let out a small laugh at how ridiculous you look. That small laugh turns into several more larger ones. Something about being turned into a rubber lion just seems incredibly funny to you. A small part of your mind realizes that this is exactly the jovial, carefree attitude that cause you to put that costume on in the first place. Could this be the suit's influence? You try to stifle the laughter, which only makes you laugh harder when the laughter finally escapes. When it does you can't hold contain it anymore. Eventually you stop trying and simply let yourself laugh.
"I love it!" you howl and descend more into the hysterical laughter. It's true as well. Somehow being trapped in this silly, goofy, cartoon of a lion body isn't frightening, it's wonderful. You push your fingers into your puffy body and rub your paws over the sides of your face, feeling your mane. You can't shake the thought that it's the best thing that ever happened to you. The last truly serious thought you ever have is the realization that the "suit" is going to win. The thought brings a feeling of peace to you at last and let out a happy sigh. You feel a warmth flow through you, which you instinctively realize is your fate being sealed.
You're a lion...forever.