Meghan stormed into the boardroom; her face beet-red and fumed with rage as she bee lined for the elder German scientist, “Gunther! You son of a-”
“It’s always lovely to see you my dear,” Gunther remarked, arrogantly smirking as he always did around you.
“I heard you went behind my back changed the instinct to cognition configurations from your assistant!”
“It was merely to help you with your report,” Gunther explained, trying to reason with Meghan though his expression clearly told her that he enjoyed getting a rise out of her. “I couldn’t just let you present that theory without any solid evidence.”
“That’s my call, not yours,” Meghan snarled, “And I don’t need your meddling.”
Gunther strummed his fingers against the table, “I’ll let Juanita be the judge of that,” His eyes darted towards the door and he smirked again, “And speak of the devil.”
+ + + + + + + + + +
Meanwhile in the transformation room, the first Gunther’s unwitting ‘guinea pigs’ stepped towards the console and looked over her options. Alexis came to this resort as part of an ‘undercover’ mission for the Society for the Humane Treatment of Animals (though the management did a background check on her anyway). Along with many other animal advocates (see loathed the term ‘activist’), Alexis believed that taking an animal’s DNA and grafting onto a human’s was a clear violation of animal rights.
Her mission was to investigate this so-called resort and find any instances of animals abuse and expose the truth and stop this resort from expanding worldwide.
‘That shouldn’t be too hard,’ Alexis thought to herself, ‘They’re already shipping animals to be slaughtered by the carnivores.’
As a strict vegan, the idea of an anthromorphic wolf or a mountain lion tearing out the throat of a helpless rabbit or boar made her blood freeze. It’s bad enough that human raise animals to slaughter, why do the management have to give them the option of changing into a complete carnivore? In a perfect world, the consumption of meat would be outlawed.
Alexis looked at her options; with a myriad of options for herbivore forms, she could decide so she just snorted.
“Screw it,” She said; pressing the “random” option, “I’ll let the computer decide.”