An hour passed as John drove home. His evening was a bust, spent at a bowling alley. There was still a thought nagging at John's mind, "Why do I feel like I forgot something important?" He wrote it off as exhaustion, he wanted to get into bed as quickly as possible.
He returned to his apartment by three. He entered his room and fell right to sleep without even undressing. A figure stepped out of a dark corner, eying the now-sleeping man. "Soon, we shall see who is a freak," it whispered as it crept out the door, the sound of hooves lightly tapping on the floor.
The midday sun was shining through the window by the time John finally awoke. He got out of bed, still with that weird taste in his mouth and the feeling like he was missing something. "That beer must have been lousy," he said aloud, "It tastes like I licked the floor at that dive. And I slept in my clothes, I just ironed these pants."
Swearing at himself for not changing, John decided to go to the bathroom and shower. He pulled off his now wrinkled shirt as he passed the mirror on his dresser. He glanced at his reflection and had to do a double take.
John was never a hairy guy. He could barely grow a decent beard, but now a thick stubble adorned his face. On top of that, his near-smooth chest was sporting a decent amount of hair. "What the hell?!"