"Alright, Pete," Jake propped himself up on his strong kangaroo legs, his voice carrying a rich Australian accent. "I'll give you one last chance to chicken out."
Pete snorted, unable to keep the laughter out of his voice. "And why would I do that? Geez, Jake, do you really expect me to believe this is real?"
"No worries, mate," Jake grinned, already assaulting the keyboard with commands. "You soon will."
As Jake hit enter, Pete visibly stiffened. He blinked in surprise, eyes wide with shock as his body began to tingle and convulse. "What the... what's happening?"
Jake merely watched, amused as Pete's face began to elongate, forming a fox's muzzle. His nose darkened and shrunk until it resembled a fox's, while underneath his brows, his eyes began to glow a brighter green, reminiscent of a fox's night vision.
Fur began growing on Pete's face, spreading around his body from his head. From the base of his spine, a long, bushy tail sprouted out. It was thick and luxurious, a silken red pile that grew in size and fluff, contrasting against his pair of shorts that began to shift into form-fitting motorcycle pants.
Checking his feet, Pete noticed they were shifting, too. They elongated, becoming digitigrade like that of a fox, covered by parts of a suit that formed into high-tech looking boots. "Wha... What are you doing, Jake?"
His clothes transformed next, morphing into an attractive, muscle-hugging red-and-black futuristic motorcycle racing suit. The ensemble was complete with gauntlet-style gloves that featured little display screens and buttons. The suit was labeled with white lettering on a black background, the words 'Fox Racing' emblazoned on it.
On his head, a helmet formed, custom fitted to accommodate his new fox-like features. His reflection showed him a futuristic fox-man suited up and ready to race. He takes off his helmet, feeling the long pointy ears that have sprouted on top of his reddish head.
His new form was undoubtedly striking, muscular, and attractive. His suit hugged his muscular torso leaving nothing to the imagination. His tail swished nervously from side to side. His wide, green eyes looked up to meet Jake's gaze.
"Wh... Why? What's going on, Jake?" He exclaimed.
"Because, mate," Jake couldn't help but chuckle. "I heard ya always wanted to become a motorcycle racer." His grin widened, "And what's a more fitting form than a fox suited up to race the wind?"
Smiling triumphantly, Pete asked, "Well Kangaroo Dundee, where am I supposed to get my ride?"
Jake simply grinned. "Got ya covered, mate. Have a gander at that there fancy glove interface of yours."
Pete moved his hand before his face, focusing on the small display. His eyes widened as he flipped through a variety of information – weather prediction services, maps, routing services. The most surprising entries were option menus allowing him to change his very own appearance: size, build, species, colour scheme. It was surreal, to say the least. "This is... Wow, this is insane! Can this even be real?"
"There's more, mate," Jake said, his eyes sparkling with amusement at Pete's confusion. "Look for the one labelled 'motorcycles'.”
Pete found the menu and was met with images of a variety of bikes. There were outdoor off-road bikes with rugged tires and sturdy builds, futuristic ones with sleek, aerodynamic features that glowed with intimidating neon lights, and then there were the aggressive superbikes, streamlined and lightweight.
Every displayed model wore the same colour scheme: black as night with red stripes enhancing their elegance. Pete chose a racing superbike, one with a particularly fierce look.
Acknowledge, the computer prompted him to spread his stance. As he did so, his thighs started to glow. A futuristic display of his chosen bike appeared, first a holographic 3D blueprint flashed into existence mid-air. The bike's form formed, revealing an aerodynamic design, its body slim and the paint glistening in the room's light. Thick tires hugging the ground with slim red rims and a short, raised tail end for maneuverability.
In a final surge, the bike materialized between Pete’s legs. It was sleek, impressive, and unyieldingly fierce. It perfectly matched Pete's suit: black as night lit by a gorgeous metallic red sheen.
Pete straddled the bike, a bit tentative at first, but as he saw the bike was solid, he put his full weight onto the machine. The bike dipped slightly with his weight, the engine's soft purr promising power hidden beneath its shell.
"Is this real?" Pete asked, petrified with excitement.
Jake, with one powerful leap, landed smoothly on the passenger seat behind Pete, draping his arms slowly across Pete's waist. Leaning in, muzzle brushing against Pete's shoulder. "You bet, mate. It most certainly is real." Jake chuckled.