You were halfway through devising some sort of convoluted MacGyver solution to pull up the zipper on your lion costume when Terry came back from getting his tamer outfit on.
“Oh wow, looking good,” you mumbled from behind your mask’s muzzle.
“This jacket was higher quality than I was expecting,” Terry agreed. He spun around once for you, letting you get a better look at the pants. They were a classy black leather of some kind. Tight and pressed, ostensibly adding some protection from stray lion swipes.
His shoes were still standard brown office loafers. You weren’t expecting the costume to go all out and include custom shoes, but Terry’s didn’t exactly match.
He picked up his whip and attached the coiled piece of leather to a holster on his belt. Terry looked you over, pinching some of the stray sagging material of your outfit, “Need a hand there?”
“Please,” you nodded. Then you quickly held onto your head to make sure the mask didn’t go anywhere.
“Sure, one second. Let me put the mustache on first,” Terry walked back over to his box to confirm he only had one piece left to go.
Terry turned the fake mustache over in his hands. The fake plastic “hair” was a stark silver through and through. Unlike the Crimson Titan’s bushy facial hair, this was a much more classy affair. The ends were clearly intended to give the impression of being waxed, and they curled up into an almost comical spiral.
Your coworker gently peeled the adhesive strip off the mustache and pushed it against his upper lip. He adjusted it for just a moment, then stepped back and held his arms out.
“Tada!” Terry laughed, “How do I look?”
Before you could respond, the office suddenly seemed a bit… brighter? It was almost like Terry’s whole figure glowed for a moment.
The strangeness passed as suddenly as it had occurred. Terry shifted back to a normal stance, and you heard a clink from his boots. Maybe the fluorescent lights were just reflecting off the shine of the…
Wait a second.
You glanced down, peering over your muzzle. Rather than the tarnished brown loafers Terry had been wearing a moment before, he was instead sporting a pair of glossy black knee-high riding boots. Instead of his clashing work shoes, Terry’s footwear was suddenly a perfect fit for his outfit.
His outfit…! You jerked your head up, looking over the worn leather and creased suede jacket. They both looked like he had been wearing them for years! Right down to the tarnished brass buttons that you swore were made out of plastic up until now.
“Uh- Terry…” You started.
You could see his eyes light up in excitement. Oh man… you had finally looked up at Terry’s face. His mustache was real. Not “really well applied”. Real. You could make out every strand in the waxed silver facial hair. He was even growing a few silver bits of stubble around the edges of the mustache. You could clearly see where he’d trimmed it back with a razor this morning.
Only- He didn’t have silver hair. He was in his early thirties. He hardly had any… any…
Holy shit.
You watched in real time as Terry went gray. His hair gained a few strands of white, then he took on a distinguished salt and pepper look, before finally all traces of his natural hair color vanished.
“Righto, let’s get you zipped up then,” he smiled. You could see new creases form on his face as he smiled.
“Wait!” You threw up your paws. He was already leaning forward however. “Terry, stop!”
“Relax!” He grabbed onto your zipper, “This shall only take a moment.”
Terry grabbed onto your zipper and swiftly pulled it up your chest. You were hoping all the fur would maybe slow him down, but the next thing you knew he had firmly clicked the zipper shut.
“Gah!” You pawed at your chest, trying to reach through the glove material on your paws to grab the zipper.
“What’s gotten into you Wallace?” Terry laughed, “Costume to tight?”
“Me-owbye?” You ran your paws along your chest, trying to find your outfit’s clasp.
You were frantic to get the costume off, but you knew what to watch for this time. Just after your outfit was complete, your body faintly glowed for a few seconds. It was like there was a faint aura radiating out from your body. It was honestly a little surreal.
You looked up to see if Terry had noticed. He hadn’t. The man had taken a step back and was tilting his head curiously.
“I say… Do you hear music…?” He said curiously.
You shook your head, “Nyo?”
Terry wasn’t going to be any help. You quickly turned your attention back towards your costume. You ran your paw gloves through your chest fur, trying to get a handle on your zipper.
You finally found it. Your zipper was a tiny little thing, forming a glistening line through the brown fur that trailed off from your mane. It was… shorter than you remembered. You weren’t sure how you had even gotten through that opening.
You flattened out the fur at the base to get a better look. Now that you had your paws pressed against your chest as a reference, you could clearly see that your zipper was disappearing.
Tooth by tooth it faded into nothing but simple brown fur. The effect was speeding up your chest. You lost a few inches just in the time it took you to notice.
You tried to get Terry’s attention, but your voice wasn’t working right. You let your a low grumble of confusion as you pulled at the material on your chest.
The fur slipped through your paws and clung to your chest. All of the loose material and give in your suit was vanishing along with the zipper. You gave one last effort to pinch the clasp… and then it was gone.
“N- n- nyoo!” You yelped.
The costume was feeling tight. You felt like someone had pulled too tightly on a sweatpants drawstring. Only rather than squeezing around your waist, you were feeling the costume constrict around you everywhere…!
You reached down to try and pull on the outfit. There should be big folds of fabric… or at least obvious places where your work shirt had clumped up underneath it. Instead you felt- Nya! A pinch…?
What was… You ran your paw through the fur on your chest. You could feel it! It felt like you were brushing your hair, only there was a lot more of it. You rubbed your arms, your chest, your thighs, there was fur everywhere…!
You stumbled back in surprise and kicked up some straw from your cubical floor. Wait, some straw? You glanced down and looked at your cubical floor. Instead of bland corporate carpets, you saw hefty wood paneling and… straw?
Maybe it was hay? You weren’t an expert on dried out grains. You reached out to get Terry’s attention, but he was still distracted by that music.
That… music? You felt your ears twitch. There was a faint brass band playing off in the distance. It was a lively tune and… and…
Wait, you felt your ears move? You reached up to try and grab onto your ears, but your thumbs didn’t seem to want to curl around them. You batted at them with your paws and… they felt enormous…!
“Nyaoooo!” You called out to Terry again. The sound that escaped your throat surprised you. It sounded like… like…
You watched the lion nose on the end of your muzzle twitch to life. It started sniffing the air. Instead of bland office cleaner and stale coffee, you could smell the scent of caged animals and… popcorn?
You did your best to call out to Terry. Every time you spoke though, a large guttural vibration would start to build up in your chest. You did his best to call his name, but all you could manage was, “Rrreow!”
This time your muzzle moved in time with your efforts. What the heck!? You could feel its weight as you opened and closed your jaws. Jowls? You tried licking your lips and- Ah!
You bumped into the back of your cubical as you saw a long pink tongue curl up over the end of your nose. About a million different thoughts were running through your head, but an odd one bubbled to the surface:
Where was your desk?
You shouldn’t have been able to just backpedal in to your cubical wall. Your workspace had tables, desk chairs, computers…! All of it had been replaced by small piles of hay. Even the cubical walls themselves were looking strange. The gaps in them were starting to grow wider.
“What in tarnation?” Terry spun around in bewilderment by the opening to your- Oh. Shit.
Your cubical didn’t have an opening anymore. The fabric paneling was continuing to narrow, taking on a polished metal sheen. They solidified into evenly spaced rods. You stared at the chrome pipes for a moment until it finally dawned on you. They were bars. The type one might use to keep a large jungle beast contained.
“Grrr!” You reached out to Terry. The office walls were shimmering behind him. Their bland industrial gray was becoming replaced by bright reds and whites of a flapping canvas tent. The floor itself was becoming unfinished. Grass grew up around your coworker’s new boots. Larger patches of dirt were starting to form in the more well trafficked areas.
Reaching out to Terry had proven to be the wrong move. You felt your balance fail you, and suddenly you began tumbling forward.
You caught yourself deftly on your paws. A cat always lands on their feet after all. You did your best effort to crawl forward towards Terry, but everything started feeling-
You weren’t sure how to describe it. There was an enormous pressure on your figure. It was like when the fur contracted around you, but at a more basic level. Your form bulked up in size, and all your proportions began to shift. Your arms got longer, your legs grew larger up, and you felt the most peculiar sensation as your skull shifted into a completely new shape.
Finally the sensation passed, and you were simply left there wagging your tail in bewilderment.
Your tail! You glanced back at the appendage. You knew you should feel surprise at its appearance. You could control it, you could swish it back and forth, and you could feel it pass through the humid outdoor air. It should have strike you as odd or alien, but it somehow felt normal.
The realization hit. You felt normal. You took a few steps forward on your fore paws and hind paws. Your coordination was flawless. Their range of motion was different than it had been before, but it felt fine. The idea of getting up on just your hind legs honestly struck you as a bit unusual. The rush of changes had passed, leaving you just feeling like… yourself?
You were a cat. A lion to be specific. You were a trained performer. A circus animal. In a circus. This was your circus.
You looked up at the completely changed office. You were in the animal tent. You were struck at how natural this setup felt. The venue was new, but the pens were always roughly in this arrangement. The pattern and repetition of life felt comforting to you. It was just another routine you were drilled on.
The only thing out of place was a very confused looking lion tamer. Your lion tamer. Your performing partner was taking in his new surroundings and showing an understandable amount of confusion.
You walked towards the end of your cage, lowering your head down to him. Terry turned around, giving a tiny jump when he saw you looming there.
“Wallace!?” His eyes went wide, “Is that you lad?”
You nodded your head up and down.
“What the-“ A clown’s honk went off in the background, “-is going on?” Terry exclaimed.
The “how” escaped you, but you had a halfway decent idea “what” was going on. Your lives had been changed. He was now Terry the Lion Tamer, and you were Wally the Lion. You somehow knew exactly who you were from muzzle to tail.
Maybe things were taking longer to sink in for your tamer? You led a very simple life now after all. There were your shows, your training, and then a lot of lounging around and being pointed at by circus goers. As an office worker you had been looking forward to lunch. Now as a cat you were just looking forward to feeding time.
Unfortunately, this was a concept that was hard to explain when all you could do was meow.
You stared down at your tamer, trying to figure out how to get the thought across. That’s when you noticed something out of place on his uniform: A familiar piece of paper was sticking out of his jacket.
You wanted to bring it to his attention. Felines had all sorts of ways to communicate, “Hey, check this out” to one another. Your shifted your body language, stared at his jacket pocket, flicked your ears toward the paper, and let out a low rumble. He didn’t quite get the message.
Humans weren’t subtitle. You knew he watched where you put your paws. Your “Shake” trick bubbled to the top of your consciousness.
You stuck a paw out of the cage, wiggling it towards the pocket, “Nyao!”
“My word, you’re a real lion?” Terry’s eyes went wide, “Wallace, where in heaven’s name did you get these costumes…!?”
“Meow meow!” You wiggled your paw a bit more intently.
He finally looked down. Nyao, finally. Your lips salivated for a moment. You did a trick, you were expecting some fish. Your tamer was focused on inspecting his pocket now however. At least there was that.
It hardly even dawned on you that you had rediscovered the complex interaction known as “Pointing”.
Terry pulled he piece of paper out of his pocket. It was the familiar flier for Crimson Titan’s “Life Changing Costumes”. He quickly scanned the ad, and you could practically hear the gears turn in his head. (Or maybe that was just the generator by the food truck outside of your tent.) Your tamer looked up at you wide eyed.
“Life changing… Wallace, my boy, what did you do!?” Terry started to pat his jacket, his thighs, even his hair. You had a feeling the reality of the situation was finally sinking in for the human too. “How do we change back?”
You looked up and gave the only answer you could: “Me-ow!”