Every donkey’s tail was wagging a bit faster than usual as Donkey One Seventeen clopped into the cafeteria.
The beast running the breakfast line gave him a wide bucktooth grin, “There was some sort of mix up in the pantry. We’re getting carrot oatmeal on a Wednesday!”
Of course, Donkey One Seventeen knew the truth. His friendly Chronivac could help spoil him and his coworkers whenever he wanted. He sat down at his usual table and enjoyed his impromptu treat.
Despite everyone’s high spirits, One Seventeen was struggling to think of what else to do with his Chronivac assistant Owen. One Seventeen liked his routine. Get up. Make his bed. Breakfast. Shower. Get dressed. Get his work assignment for the day. Work. The repetition felt comforting to him. Using his Chronivac too much would just disrupt that.
With breakfast over, Donkey One Seventeen continued his routine and hit the showers. He finished cleaning up, dried off his fur, and made his way over to the locker room. Just like any other day, he grabbed the first short and stout donkey uniform he could find.
Standing in the corner of the room were two humans. One Seventeen had long since given up on trying to learn his superiors actual names. Authority figures just got lumped in his head as “Mr. Smith”. One Seventeen never quite figured out if that was part of their Chronivac template or some side-effect of his corporate training. He could have asked one of the Mr. Smiths, but neither of them had spoken to him yet.
“Man, it’s going to be a busy day,” Mr. Smith grumbled to the other Mr. Smith. “We’re demoting an entire marketing department?”
“Apparently AIs have gotten good at writing advertising emails,” said the other Mr. Smith. He gave a halfhearted shrug, “We’re only turning about a dozen people into donkeys.”
“Right. Demoting,” said Mr. Smith.
“Demoting? Seriously? We’re turning a dozen humans into beast men. Don’t sugar coat it,” the other Mr. Smith said.
“Look, I’ve been in Beast Resources for twelve years now. You have to get comfortable with the metaphors. This is dehumanizing work. Literally.” The older Mr. Smith said.
Donkey One Seventeen lingered around as he eavesdropped on his bosses. He was pretty sure the older Mr. Smith was the one who had changed him all those months ago.
“Maybe you’ve gotten a bit too comfortable with it,” the younger Mr. Smith said. “I’ve been here for seven years and I still admit what we’re doing.”
“Do you now?” Mr. Smith raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Mr. It-Only-Lasts-For-Three-Years.”
“It does!” Mr. Smith threw up his hands exacerbatedly.
“You’re more naive than I thought,” One Seventeen’s Mr. Smith shook his head. “Have you ever come down here on contract renewal day? All these beasts sign back up. The second you click that mouse, these animals stop being people.”
One Seventeen felt his tail shiver. He wasn’t sure he liked hearing himself talked about that way.
“You sound like Mr. Smith,” Mr. Smith said to Mr. Smith.
“You know he’s retiring, right? Soon there’s going to be a vacancy at the head of Beast Resources.” Mr. Smith grinned, “I plan on being a prime candidate.”
“We’ll see,” the younger Mr. Smith said. “I’ve got a pretty good report with the donkeys. Hey One Seventeen, you finished your supervisor training, right?”
It took One Seventeen a minute to realize he was being spoken to. He slowly nodded his head.
“Great, we’re training some new recruits today. Heel.” The young Mr. Smith scanned a list of names on his phone.
“Actually... Can you grab Thirty Six and Twenty Two? We’ve got a pretty big crowd this time.” One Seventeen’s Mr. Smith was smiling for some reason.
“Hee haw! Right away sir!” One Seventeen quickly clopped off and found the two other donkeys. Thirty Six was one of the generic looking donkeys, while Twenty Two was one of the taller models. Had Mr. Smith intentionally picked one of each type of donkey with supervisor training?
One Seventeen’s Mr. Smith was leading the show today. He got all the new recruits lined up in front of the three donkeys. One Seventeen and Twenty Two had four people to train, while Thirty Six lucked out and only had three people to look after.
“Welcome to the next three years of your life,” Mr. Smith gestured at the trio of beasts. Was it One Seventeen’s imagination, or did his Mr. Smith wink at the younger Mr. Smith? “In a few minutes we’ll be transforming you into the beast man you see before you.”
The line up of humans looked a little pale. One of them made a meek comment about whether or not it was too late to change their mind.
“All the paperwork’s been signed I’m afraid,” Mr. Smith shook his head. “You’re our beasts now. Let’s make it official, shall we?”
He pushed open to door to the Chornivac room. Everyone peered inside nervously.
“We’ll start with the tall donkeys. You all will be the bulk of our manual labor,” Mr. Smith lead the first group inside.
A few minutes later, a group of bewildered half-beasts stumbled out. The ears and tails always seemed to come first. They all awkwardly tried to keep their pants up as their new tasseled tails swished back and forth.
“Alright, next are the short stacks. That’s you One Seventeen.” Mr. Smith showed the group inside of the small room. “You’re in luck, the B Models are our brighter donkeys. You’ll be in charge of plumbing, supervising, and other down to Earth tasks.”
“Oh man, are you sure this is safe?” One of the humans squirmed in front of the Chornivac.
“Relax, I’m saving your current profile now. JadenGreen.Bak. See, right there, safe and sound.” Mr. Smith pointed to the aging CRT monitor for the man. Then One Seventeen heard him nearly inaudibly mumble, “Not that you’ll be needing it.”
“O-okay,” the new recruit nodded nervously. “Just tell us when you’re going to start.”
Mr. Smith typed a few more keys on the machine. He gave the mouse a firm click and a soft beep emitted from the Beast Resources office’s aging Chronivac. Mr. Smith grinned at the four men, “When.”
“Fuck...!” The talkative one shot up straight. He started scratching at his body anxiously.
One Seventeen felt his fur tingle. Then his whole body felt itchy. At first he thought it was just some sympathy feelings from watching fur grow out on the recruit’s ears, but the sensation lingered for almost a minute.
“Sir, did you use the Chornivac on me as well?” One Seventeen brayed softly.
Mr. Smith laughed, “It’s easier to just target the whole room all at once. Relax, you can’t be any more of a B Model than you already-“
“Shit shit shit!” One of the recruits blurted out. His tail was pushing out into the seat of his pants. He frantically tore at his belt in an attempt to get his slacks off. There was an audible sigh of relief as he freed his new tassel.
“-are.” Mr. Smith glared at the changing man. “Anyways, I think we’re done here. Please send in the next group One Seventeen.”
“Haw? I think they need a minute sir,” One Seventeen watched as his recruits tried to get their bearings. Suddenly having a new appendage to wag was a disorienting experience.
“I said send in the next group One Seventeen,” Mr. Smith said sharply.
“Haw! Yessir!” One Seventeen stood up straight. He turned to the recruits, “Haw, if you’d all follow me please.”
He led the flustered newbies out of the room. It took them a minute to shuffle out while awkwardly holding up their pants.
“Hee haw, Thirty Six, your group’s next.” One Seventeen nodded at his average peer.
The last batch of recruits shuffled inside. One Seventeen could hear Mr. Smith give his last orientation pitch. He knew that the generic donkeys were the ones they usually liked using in public settings, but Mr. Smith phased it as, “You’re the presentable animals we like to send out when there’s work to be done in front of your new superiors.”
One Seventeen felt his ears twitch awkwardly. He was pretty sure it wasn’t just a residual tingle from the Chronivac. Mr. Smith was... He...
Months of corporate training were preventing One Seventeen from forming a coherent negative thought about his superior. He could... Mr. Smith should... Hmpf. One Seventeen’s new recruits were still bewildered at what was happening to them. They could have used a minute to catch their breath.
Mr. Smith had no idea what it was like to be a Paper Corp Donkey.
The thought finally solidified in his head. It wasn’t negative. It wasn’t disobedient. It was just the truth. It was the closest One Seventeen could come to critiquing his boss.
So how could he help? Donkey One Seventeen’s train of thought immediately flipped back to his usual supportive mindset. He wanted to make Paper Corp the best company it could be. Surely there was some advice he could tell Mr. Smith?
Mr. Smith didn’t seem to particularly care how disorienting being demoted to a donkey could be. One Seventeen tried to tell him, but he wasn’t listening. If only he could experience what it was like to go through donkey orientation himself.
One Seventeen stood there with his new recruits for a few minutes. Then he finally remembered what he was wearing on his wrist.
He looked down at his Chronivac. “Haw... Owen?” He brayed at his wrist quietly.
The screen lit up. His smartwatch let out a soft synthetic, “Haw?”
“Can you... turn Mr. Smith into a donkey? He makes so many of us. He should know what it’s like.” One Seventeen brayed softly.
“Affirmative sir,” One Seventeen’s Chronivac beeped.