As Damon stood there mooing in distress, it was clear that John would be closely following him into beast-hood. His instincts had already kicked in to the point that he was pecking the floor looking for grains that weren't there. Feathers had already covered him up, and he might have finished first if he didn't have so much shrinking to do. But there was still enough of his human mind left in his dwindling body to be horrified that he would be just a farm animal now, and the only difference between him being fed or being eaten would be for him to lay eggs like a hen does.
"BeGAAAWK!" he shrieked when his pants fell off and his shirt touched the ground like a gown. He could feel things happening to his feet that were causing a civil war inside his changing mind--the chicken in him thought they were feeling better, but the human thought they were being mangled. Remaining unfeathered, his toes were stretching out and getting pointed. The rest of his foot was stretching out while most of his legs were shrinking against his torso. When would this horror stop?
"Well, you're not so tough are you now, mister burglar? Why, you've almost totally chickened out!" joked the witch with a cackle.
The truth is John was terrified and was not just literally becoming a chicken. His chicken instincts had him stressed because he couldn't see far enough around him. What if something was trying to sneak up on him? His lingering humanity was even more nervous (and dizzy) when his transformation fixed his vision problem. The left and right sides of his face flattened, his eyes began to squelch apart, and John was left looking toward his sides more than in front of him. His new wide-angle view could see most of the room, as well as the cow, the witch, and the donkey man. They were all really towering above him, though! His mouth and his nose hardened, grew, and fused out into a hook-like beak, and his chicken face was finally complete.
That didn't mean it was over, though. The changes basically were, but the humiliation was not. All throughout his transformation, John had been getting sensations from his nether regions that he thought no man should have ever to feel. Most of the parts he'd grown up with down there were now a thing of the past, and he could only feel one hole where he used to have a butt and genitals. That hole felt like it was getting ready for something, and John didn't think it was getting ready for him to take a dump.
A pressure was building inside John's chicken body, moving down within him and building to a crescendo just inside his avian opening. His instincts new what was happening, so he was unsurprised when something big and hard started opening him up from the inside. All he could do was follow his body's calling to let it out. But when he finally looked back at the oval white mass he had released, his heart sank. That's when it sank in that he was really a "she" now, and her life depended on laying more. People would eat what came out of her, and in the end, they would eat her, too.
"Well, since you've laid your first egg," mused the witch upon picking it up, "I might as well scramble it for breakfast tomorrow." Anything else she might have said was covered up by Chris's loud bray as he kept experiencing his own changes.