You look around at the familiar space with the eyesore sofa, door to
the basement, open kitchen and eating area and staircase leading
upstairs. Something stinks like a wet dog. You start sniffing trying
to figure out where the odor is coming from. You raise your arm and
sniff your pit. The wet dog smell is coming from you.
It's then that you notice your clothing is gone. Your skin itches
terribly. Your fingers cramp up. Your mouth hurts. Your bowels feel
weak. You start to climb the staircase to find the help or at least a
bathroom and maybe some clothes. You decide you'll go barefoot if
you're able to put on any of Al's clothing. Your neck is particularly
itchy. Your raise your clenched hand to scratch it. You hit a leather
dog collar and hear the clink of brass dog tags hanging from your
collar. You drop to all fours. There's an immense pain at the base of
your spine. You clamp your body to the floor as your tail grows out of
your spine. You whimper, you're becoming the Bundy dog Buck.