Mischief at the Movies
The faint sun behind the clouds attacks your eyes, obscured by a heavy downpour and the resulting droplets on the window. Groggily, you huddle to your desk and retrieve the ticket to the cinema at 11 a.m., seeing your clock at around 8:20 a.m. If you want to arrive at the cinema in time, you'll have to head to the bus stop at 9, considering the buses run much less frequently on weekends and holidays, but the rain outside will certainly be troublesome. No one likes the smell of wet dog, after all. No time for the morning routine now, as your fur will be matted by the rain anyway and there was no need to go number two for your skipped dinner last night.
You head down the stairs to the cupboard, looking for your umbrella, raincoat and boots. Except for the presence of two pairs of boots, they don't look different at first glance… did the genie really botch the job? Unfolding the blue raincoat, however, you find an additional section extending backwards from the waist, covering the lower torso like a dog raincoat would a normal dog. You sling the raincoat over your backs, fastening the Velcro patches around your neck, upper chest and waist as you were used to; then you had to turn your upper torso around, bend backwards to your rump, and apply the Velcro ring surrounding your tail. In hindsight you should have done that first so the portion above the waist doesn't twist against your upper torso.
"I can't see anything again… but it looks… blue instead of maroon, and it feels rubbery."
"The tail can't protect you from the rain by much, dear."
You try to put on your boots like you normally would. That worked for the forelegs, but for the hindlegs, you had to uncomfortably wedge the boot followed by your upper torso between the forelegs. That put a lot of strain on your waist. Instead, you put both the boots on the floor under your lower torso and walk forwards, inserting your hind legs into the boots. The boots fit surprisingly snugly around your digitigrade paws — well, puppy boots are a thing.
You approach the kitchen with the umbrella in your hand, it feeling slightly heavier. The same kibble again enters your bowl, followed by your muzzle.
Heading outdoors, you open the umbrella. It had become a twin umbrella, meant to cover two people. You open it and find it covering exactly your entire body, both length and width. The raincoat felt redundant until a gust of wind blew the rain towards your left side, and the raincoat took the brunt of it before you could adjust your umbrella. Under such inclement weather the bus came slightly late, and nearly completely empty, so you could head to the upper deck. Not used to the curvature of the stairs, your rump is smacked against the walls.
"Ow!" "Sorry."
For safety reasons holes are still absent from the chairs. You sty to sit your lower torso on the chair with the forelegs standing up your upper torso, but you are uncomfortably smushed towards the seat to your front. You lay your entire lower torso across the chairs in a crouching position, your upper torso and muzzle facing directly at the window. You connected the USB charging cable to the port on the back of the seat to your… front… left? And connect your phone to it, resting it not on your lap this time, but on your lower back. As the bus exited your neighborhood, the skies instantly cleared. You look at the umbrella in your hand, then down at your upper chest covered by the raincoat, and let out a whimper. You have to alight a bit earlier than you would getting to work, this time remembering to bend your lower torso to avoid the walls, in addition to bending your upper torso as far back as possible to avoid overbalancing.
Entering the cinema, you see no one and the clock read twenty past ten, still a long wait till the movie starts. You head to the counter and buy a bucket of popcorn and a hotdog, but no drinks, on the grounds that your muzzle forbids the use of a straw and lapping it up would produce disruptive noise. While the clerk shovels a bucket of popcorn, you take the time to savour the scents behind the counter, even if they are very unhealthy for dogs. Once the clerk handed you the bucket of popcorn and wrapped hot dog, you approach a table, set down the popcorn and hot dog, and take off your raincoat, folding it and placing it in a plastic bag. Still the lobby remains empty. The metal chairs have holes through them, and you push your lower back through the hole of one of them, your lower torso sitting on the ground while your upper back lays against the back of the chair and your forelegs bend as a human's legs would. You look at the wireless earbuds, now with a latch to secure them to the ears, and plop them into your ears and secure the latches. Closing your eyes, you immerse yourself into the music, blocking out a the noise of the people newly entering the theatre.
Fifteen minutes later, you open your eyes to see far more people in the theatre. And now it is time for trouble. You straighten your forelegs as you would standing up as a human, pulling your lower torso through the hole, then slowly pulling your legs through. Strutting besides the table, you raise your tail and let the magic begin. First is a thirty-something Caucasian man in T-shirts and jeans. You wave your tail to the side, turn your upper torso around and bend down halfway towards your rump, enough to observe the action, but not enough to disturb it. His nose turns black and puffs up into a canine nose, followed by his mouth extending into a canine snout. You expect his sequence to be a little different from yours, as your transformation started from the lower body. Fur sprouted from his face, giving the classic fluff of a Shetland Sheepdog as his ears moved up and became pointed. The changes spread down his neck onto his now furry arms, then hands, morphing into hand-paw hybrids with claws. Further down his body, two nubs grew out of his torso, slowly growing into an additional set of canine legs. Down to his rump, a furry, low-hanging tail sprouted out, and his legs walked backwards to accommodate the length of two torsos, then grew into digitigrade canine legs. He tried standing up, feeling wobbly, as he realised only his upper body stood.
One is enough for your eyes, as the sequence wouldn't vary much between all the future dog taurs. You turn your head back forward, focusing on the music through your headphones and the scent of the snacks. In this trance, another fifteen minutes passed, and when you looked around, everyone, including the ushers in front of the door, but excluding the clerk behind the cashier, became dog taurs of all shapes and sizes, from Australian Shepherds and Collies to more exotic ones like one Berger Picard. As the usher, now a rough collie taur, called all holders of tickets to the hall of your movie, you rushed to the line waiting for him to scan the ticket. Looking ahead of you, the lower bodies of the dog taurs means that there are far fewer heads in the queue than if they were humans. You get your ticket scanned at half the amount of time you are used to with a queue of this length.
You enter the hall and trod your way to the seat. The folding seats do not change as they already have holes to allow the cushion to rotate through them. You once again wedge your lower half through the hole, although the stadium style seating meant the lower half rests level to your waist instead on sloping down. The dogtaur behind you puts his forelegs on your lower half, not bothering you in the slightest. Pulling your headphones out, you anticipate the beginning of the movie. You hold your hotdog and slowly push it into your mouth as your were a human, but for the popcorn, you simply dipped your muzzle into the bowl as you did the bowls of kibble at home. Halfway through the movie, one of the extras you recognise from an earlier entry in the series had become a Yorkshire Terrier taur. You turn your head and see a Yorkshire Terrier taur behind you, elated at her appearance in the movie, even if she only appears for a split second. The tension in the climax has you hopping frontwards as you always did, but the wedged lower body and the folded lower legs form a hook latching onto the seat cushion, as you feel something smacking your crotch. Maybe it is best not to do this again. The triumphant ending has everyone clapping their hand-paws, with a slightly more muffled sound due to the pads.
Exiting the theater, you head to the toilet to do your business. One stall is labelled with the ideogram of a dog but with an additional upper torso, representing a dog your. Inquisitively, you open the door to find not a toilet bowl, but an avocado-shaped opening in the ground with the dry drain where the pit would be. "An Asian style squat toilet," muttered your girlfriend turned anus, "Nearly all toilets in Japan look like this. Spread your legs, raise your tail or it goes into the drain hole, and squat like you would in the dog toilet in the park." You follow the instructions, but it's a bit unnatural for the hind legs to be spread that far apart, and you have to hold onto the handles to your side to maintain balance. Then you let loose, lasting longer than you ever did before. "Nothing? Not even a single moan?" "Not in public, sweetie," she "whispers".
In the lobby, you see another group to transform into dog taurs, and promptly raise your tail, unaware of the next movie being a children's movie. With your eyes closed, you can only hear the cries of children are replaced with the piercing shrieks of puppies. You dart towards your exit, heading to the shopping centre across the road.