In a wealthy home outside of the hectic big city, Chris Stewartson arrived in a fancy silver sports car and stepped onto his driveway carrying a parcel under his arm.
He entered the foyer of his miniature mansion and set the parcel down to remove his shoes. "Ingrid!" He called, looking around for his secretary.
A gorgeous woman of about 24 emerged from around the corner wearing a business outfit. "Yes, Mr. Stewartson?"
"For the rest of the day I'm not to be bothered. Is that clear?" He instructed, picking up his parcel and heading for a spiral staircase in the center of the foyer.
"Of course, Mr. Stewartson." She replied dutifully.
"You can leave early, if you'd like, but make sure the invoicing on the Charleston account are up to date."
"Of course, sir. Thank you."
* * *
With unbridled lust, Chris set the package down on his leopard print bed sheets and tore into the brown wrapping. In moments he had revealed his prize ... a plain black box imprinted with the red Furtech fox tail logo.
"Yes..." He gasped, tearing off a strip of tape with his finger and raising the box's lid to reveal a handsome black firearm carrying case. Except this was no mere gun.
Tossing the box and papers away, Chris set the case down and unclasped its steel locks. The case was soon parted to reveal a shining silver Morphomax 2.0 Ray Gun.
He had initially invested in Furtech when rumors of their technology aquisition had come down the pipeline, and he had chiefly been responsible for a quarter of their R&D funding. The initial 1.0 model had seen some bugs and limited applications, but initial sales had been strong.
He reached down with a shaky hand and reached into the form fitting foam to remove the gun. He gripped the black rubber grip and admired the fine sheen on the steel pistol. It was vaguely shaped like a 50's sci fi film prop reject, though sleeker. It was surprisingly light, and balanced perfectly in the hand.
There was a panel for the battery pack behind the grip on the underside and an LCD display on the left side with several buttons. On the right side was a covered USB port and a green LED light. The "barrel" of the gun housed a complicated beam emitter that was well beyond the scope of Chris's knowledge, but regardless, it looked impressive.
He set the gun down on the bed and looked through the case to find a small battery pack, a charger stand, a basic manual, a silver USB cable, and a CD-Rom with drivers for the Morphomax PC suite. With a PC, one could explore the highly encrypted website for paying customers and install a variety of programming and options into the gun, the chip concept having long been abandoned.
He plugged the charging stand into a nearby wall socket and set the battery pack in the station. He had some time to wait, so he began reading the manual and fired up his laptop.
* * *
An hour or so later, the charging stand beeped. Impatiently, Chris grabbed the battery and locked it into the Morphomax. The gun beeped once and the green LED light on the side lit up. The LCD on the other side printed "Ready." along with a small meter measuring the battery power.
Chris had the base option package, so he could strictly turn an animal into an anthro or turn a human into either one of the two previous. But that was mostly it.
He reached for the USB cable and plugged the gun into the computer. Surfing of the Morphomax options packages began.
Size, strength, age, intelligence, personality, mental state, physical attributes, extras.
Every conceivable option, species, and change stood waiting for download.
Chris grinned at his laptop and greedily selected "Download all."
He disconnected the gun from the laptop, scrolled through the many option menus and sub menus, and satisfied everything was in order, tried to decide what to do first.