The ass looked around. He was in a nondescript Gray room with two other donkeys. If he had been in his right mind he would have known that those donkeys were once Jeff and David and he was once Ben. If he could have understood the men on the other side of the room, this is what he would hear:
"I understand that. I just think it's important that we keep an eye on them. That one did not change with the others. The other two were with him, who knows how long it took them to change in there."
"We do have a buyer in upstate New York. He wants four."
"Well, send another one. Tag those three."
"Yes sir."
Tagged, the three friends felt truly damned, herded into a truck, the change of latitudes would be most apparent. Pleasure Island set in the southern latitudes offered continued warmth and a sense of leisure.
Soon though, the three would begin to feel the chill of changing seasons, of fall and winter when they must stand and weather times of discomfort.
Friendships tend to wear as the discomfort grows, platitudes of pointless and empty comments offer little to each anything significant or helpful. The move north will bring them in contact with the female of the new species; this causing friction between those who were friends.
The scents and sensation to enter the time of rut will break up any worthwhile relationship, especially donkey Jacks, being lustful and endowed with an unsaintly looking shaft.
Sounds that the boys thought were once funny are to them then the common tones known of donkeys. Snorts farts, and braying tends to be the limits of what the three friends have in their new language.