No, no, no, this wasn't acceptable. This couldn't be allowed to continue. Joe was just waking up for a long day lounging around and goofing off like he always did. He couldn't have known his town had really witches or that he'd be kidnapped. But now he had HORNS and floppy cow ears and what looked almost like a BULL TAIL with a TASSEL. It knocked his knees and sent a shiver up his back. And the guy overseeing whatever these coven members were doing to him was definitely not going to stop. If Joe didn't do something drastic, NOW, he knew his life was over. Well, his human life at least. He reached up with his hand (while he still had it) and felt at one of his long sturdy horns again. He glanced back up at the scary looking tip of it, curled beside his face to point in away from him. To point IN FRONT of him. To point wherever he would choose to aim it. And he had a second one just like it.
Joe focused a little more intently on where the ritual leader was standing watch. He tuned out the chanting and footsteps and breeze through the grass that his big ears couldn't help but be curious about. He thought about the invisible magic barrier that was holding him in the circle. If there was anything in this world that could break through that impenetrable wall and maybe gore into one of these terrifying sorcery extremists, then maybe, just maybe, it was these.
They would have to do, anyway. He didn't have any other weapons. He ran forward and immediately fell face first on the lowered trousers still hugging around his still-human legs. Ouch! No matter. He kicked them off and stayed on all fours for a second, lining up his aim as best he could. Deny it though he tried, some budding bestial part of Joe Dean actually RELISHED the feel of planting his four-legged stance against the ground, readying for impact, trusting in the weapons on his head. He took off on two legs like an sprinter, but stayed bent over with his two horns plowing through the air in front of him. It was the moment of truth, almost there, almost there ...
BAM!!
The collision pounded back into Joe's skull and the recoil sent him falling all the way backward. The defeated man landed flat on his back dazzled and dizzy. The force field flickered green once more and Joe knew it held steady. Even the might of a bull's horns was nothing compared to the combined magical prowess of these several coven members under the watchful eye of their dark minister. How many people had they changed already? How much more power would they obtain from Joe's fall from a human state?
He pushed his elbows against his arms to sit back up. He tried to position his legs ready to take his weight again but forgot his tail and accidentally pushed a foot down onto that. But he got his new appendage out of the way and tried again. He stood back up and rubbed his head not far from where his horns were attached. He looked up to see the man who'd been taunting him sporting a victorious grin. No, not victorious. Amused. Dismissive. He was ENJOYING Joe's helpless failure to resist his paranormal fate in any way. And he had expected it.
"I must say that it took a lot of balls to try that," said the man, "not much different from the bull your becoming. But then again your balls aren't quite that size yet, are they?"