You walk up to one of the face-painting artists, his sign boastfully proclaiming "NAME THE ANIMAL, AND I CAN PAINT IT!" It's far too much for you to resist the opportunity, so you walk up to him and tell him that you'd like to get your face painted.
"Oh, certainly. Just have a seat." As he gestures you towards the chair and you lean into its comfortable cushions, he begins to question you about exactly what you're after. "I do paint a good cat, you know. Or maybe you'd like a dog? Perhaps a monkey?" Of course, you aren't interested in seeing anything so pedestrian. After all, the sign does say that he can paint any animal you name. You spend a moment trying to think of something he would have trouble with, something that wouldn't make it obvious that you were trying to prove him wrong, when the idea hits you.
"Make me a horse."
"A... a horse?" he stutters, clearly somewhat surprised by your request."
"Yeah, a horse. I want you to paint my face like a horse." You barely manage to suppress a smile as he gives a nervous shrug and then stares at you, thinking for a moment before he gently begins to apply some brown paint with a small brush.
The whole activity of getting your face painted like an animal seems extremely childish to you, but even so, you can't resist a claim like his. Having to wear a little paint for a few minutes is no big deal if you can teach a lesson to someone as cocky as he is, and you know there's no way he'll be able to pull this off. Heck, the mere fact that he's trying to makes you want to chuckle - there's no way he'd even be able to make something that looks remotely like the long face of a real horse!
Still delighted by his futile attempts, you watch as he begins to finishes applying the brown paint to your chin and cheeks, moving on to your forehead. Soon, he's got a coat of it across your entire face, and moves on to another color. He dips into a cup of black, stroking it across your lips and noise rather liberally. You almost sneeze, but resist, realizing that it'd shoot that brush straight up your nose.
He's moved on to a white paint now, and is carefully stroking his brush along your face between your eyes. You're starting to feel a little dizzy at this point, and your face is feeling heavy, weighed down by the paint covering it. What the heck is in that stuff, lead? You consider asking him, but worry that he'll be able to claim you'd offended him and use that as an excuse to get out of having to paint you as a horse, so you keep your mouth shut. Hopefully, it's just something you ate.
He steps back for a moment, looking at you in the way an artist might look at his most recently finished work. He gets an expression that looks like a sort of confusion at first, then snaps his fingers and shouts "ah-HA!" before grabbing the brush, dipping it in the black paint, and starting to apply the paint to your ears. What a joke. He's only used three different colors, he's been working on you for maybe five minutes, and he thinks that just painting over the ears is going to be enough to make it look the way it should? Once again, you hold back a laugh as he finishes his work, applying the paint liberally to each ear before stepping back and announcing that he's finished.
"Well, it was a rather difficult request, but I think you'll be quite pleased with the results. Would you like to see?"
You nod, noting that your head feels much heavier now. Maybe you're tired... maybe that was lead paint that he was using. Odd, you think to yourself, since you aren't feeling dizzy or disoriented anymore. Whatever, he's got the mirror in front of you now, so you can see how badly he's screwed it-
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"
You fall backwards out of the chair, screaming at the top of your lungs, before looking wide-eyed into the mirror. You touch your face, and can feel it. It's not just an illusion. Staring back at you from the mirror is the head of a brown horse attached to your human body, its massive brown nostrils just above the dark-lipped mouth that's dropped open in shock. The brown, beady eyes look wide with surprise as you rub your hand across the soft chestnut hair, feeling it... holy crap, you can feel it! Then you see why he had to go back for the ears: sitting atop your head and sticking out of your hair is a pair of brown ears that perfectly match the rest of your head.
You turn to face the artist, but find that he's completely absent. In fact, the entire tent is absent. No surfer, no tiger man, no guide, no nothing. The "painting" must have taken longer than you'd thought, as everyone appears to have left. You peak out of the tent, seeing crowds walking about just outside before you step back from the door and into the tent. You can't let people see you like this! You're a freak! There's got to be some way to get out of here without being spotted...