Your arm is now covered with a soft white down, and your hand has fused into two large fingers. You cough up blood and all your pearly white teeth clatter on the floor. For some reason you can only lament the years that you wore braces had all been for nought.
The transformation is quick and painful. You awkwardly get to your orangish yellow webbed feet, and and waddle over to the end of the exam table to try to see your reflection in the chrome implements on the medical table.
The doctor enters, he is beaming.
"The operation was a success. As promised, you are now the television spokesp-uh for a major corporation."
You open your mouth to say, what, but all that comes out is "AFLAC!"
"Well, you didn't think they actually trained a duck to do those commercials did you? Besides the pay is great, all the seed you can eat!" he winks.
"AFLAC! AFLAC! AFLAC!" you quack.
"That's the spirit, but just remember you're not the first duck, nor will you be the last. The last one got a bit uppity, and now he's," the doctor places a hand over his chest, and bows his head slightly.
"AFLAC?" you ask.
"Urp. Sorry. Best Peking Duck, I've ever had, I ate way too much."
"AFLAC!"
"What? No, no I didn't eat the other duck. No, he's well, it is duck season, and he took it in his head to try to fly away..."
"AFLAC?"
"No. Sorry, we really did eat him. He bit the director several times, and that sort of behavior is just not tolerated."
"AFLAC!"
"Now, I'm sure we won't have to eat you with plum sauce. You were a bright woman, and in exchange for a new life, you will comply with your new job requirements. Won't you?"
You ruffle your feathers, look up at the now giant doctor, and...