You reach your hand down to your swollen udder that is poking out from under your shirt which is stretched tight across your new mammoth breasts. As you place the quarter in the slot you are eager to wish yourself back to normal. But to your horror you hear your quarter fall threw the machine and into the return change dish. You hear a metallic voice say “One wish per day.” You stand there stunned and confounded. You look around and grab a large hooded sweat shirt that is able to cover your udder from a nearby rack and frantically wonder what your going to do next.