Minutes felt like hours, John felt odd but in as much satisfied with feelings and being so much like a real bull.
He stood near the computer, his back and hairy rump still under the emitter ray. As from how fine he felt his new form, the want began to come, he felt the need to begin the program once more. He felt an urge to make his head match his new body, becoming full a bull in form but with the fond hope of retaining some or all of his human learned knowledge.
Using his tongue on the keyboard, and a fuzzy chin to bump the space bar, John worked out another enhancement of his brute body.
He spaced down the listing which still held the line of contoured changes that the program had already completed, as he poked the enter key, his eyes went wide with horror.
"Lapsed time:" the clock with the reopening had reset itself away from the span of just and hour. It kept the denoted number of 59, but on reset it went to days and lengthened his stay for just under two months of living as would a real Shorthorn Bull!
The computer screen fluttered, and the green rays poured down engulfing John.
As the green rays faded, John gawked at the computer screen, it showing his likely twin, and mentioning that a fax message was sent to Sorry Charlie Farms, and asked they come and pick up one of their wandering, runaway bulls.
John beheld then a picture of what the program said was his twin bovine brother.
"SPECIAL NOTE: As shown, and ounce polled and horns removed, the hormone imbalance will make return to previous patterns nearly an impossible task for this limited computer, try later using the program on a unit with 20 gigabytes of ram memory."
Reading the message, John let out a sad moaning moo.