You find yourself approaching an orange mirror, gentle ripples slowly spreading across its surface with every step you take, intensifying as you get ever closer as though growing in excitement as you near it. Once you stand about three feet from its surface, you stop and wait for the ripples to subside, the reflection it gives becoming ever clearer. As the hazy image ceases to move, you start to be able to make out its shape... and you're speechless at what you see.
Where you had expected, at best, a warped view of yourself (maybe a bit shorter, or wider, or whatever else funhouse mirrors most often have), you instead see a large, anthropomorphic golden retriever. Its "hands" look to be a mixture of hand and paw, the digits each tipped with paws and pads on the bottoms, and you can see a tail hanging calmly behind it. Its face is framed by two floppy ears and shows a look of clear dumbstruck astonishment, resembling that of the dog it seems to mimic but sharing the expressiveness of a more human face. It looks as though its flesh is a smooth, shiny surface rather than being covered in fur, but for all you know that may just be the mirror (then again, given that everything else here is latex-themed, it probably isn't). Of course, it might be easier to tell what it looked like overall if it wasn't wearing all that clothes. Actually, the clothes look a lot like...
Testing, you lift your right arm. It lifts its left. You blink your right eye. It blinks its left. You sort of wiggle around for a while, and it follows right along. Looking down over yourself, you see that you're still... well, you, which makes this illusion all the more impressive. You're at a complete loss as to how they could possibly pull this off, having such an utterly different version of yourself mirror every motion, every gesture, EVERYTHING you do so perfectly. While you think on it, you notice those ripples spreading from the bottom of the mirror again, no doubt brought on by your testing of the reflection. This only puzzles you further: how could they make a liquid stay perfectly vertical like this and completely defy gravity? Nothing about it makes sense, and it all just draws you more and more towards wanting to give it a closer look.
Breathing in slowly, shutting out all inhibition, you reach out towards the mirror. As your fingers near it you worry that they'll simply stop, or hit the reflection's fingers (as though that were even possible), but they simply move right through the mirror, pushing through the thick, warm liquid that makes up its surface. Large ripples move from where your right hand contacts, making the entire mirror's surface a blur of orange, and as you feel nothing behind it you're enticed to push in further. The viscous liquid takes in your arm up to its elbow, wrapping it in a warm embrace, and yet you still can't feel anything behind it. It's as though it had nothing at all supporting it, nothing at all allowing for that visual trickery you'd seen before. You try reaching in further one last time, submerging your arm almost to your shoulder, but to no avail - no matter how deep you go, all you can feel is the warm, thick liquid flowing around you.
However, that's not the end of it. As you watch, you notice that the mirror's colors seem to be shifting, the orange escaping as the reflection becomes more mundane. No, not escaping. Collecting. You can see it all gathering near the center of the image, extending from where you inserted your arm. It's at this point that you realize that your own reflection has disappeared. Your interest piqued once more, you decide to hold your arm steady until the mirror rests. You wait... and wait... and finally, you can see clearly what it shows. On the other side of the mirror, there's a perfect replica of the room you stand in now. Not a mirror image, but an EXACT copy. As for the orange, it seems to have collected to reform as that retriever's arm (which you can now clearly see as having a smooth, shiny surface rather than a furry one), but extending from your own point of view instead of towards it. In fact, it actually looks like it's the extension of your own arm beyond the mirror's surface. You experimentally wriggle your submerged fingers, and watch in amazement as the arm does the exact same thing. Incredible! You try bending your arm at the elbow and twisting your wrist. Both work the same way, the golden retriever arm mimicking your every gesture. You try making a fist, but find yourself unable to thanks to the discomfort caused by having those claws in your palm. Wait. Claws?
As you come to the startling realization that this might not just be a fake image, you frantically pull on your arm, but to no avail. While the liquid was rather smooth and easy to traverse when you put your arm into it, you find that trying to pull out of it is like pulling against a brick wall. Even with your other hand, you can't muster up the force to budge it. You try pushing on the frame, you try falling backwards, you try everything you can think of, but your arm refuses to come out, remaining within the mirror's surface. For a moment, you relax it so that you can think, only to find that it moves further into the mirror when you do, the part of your arm that traverses it gaining the looks of the rest and leaving you in up to your shoulder. You consider trying to shatter the mirror, but know that punching it would only result in two stuck hands instead of one. Maybe there's some other way to shatter it? You hope so, as the alternative is being forced to walk through it and deal with what you find yourself in... or find yourself AS... on the other side.