"...a sheep."
Mr. Jones offered a broad smile. "Oh, that's wonderful. Such a magnificent creature. Are you looking forward to
it?"
"Not really," Becky said, looking everywhere but at Mr Jones. "I'm nervous, I guess. My boyfriend is going to be
a horse, so that's not so cool."
"I understand," the butcher replied. "My own daughter, Stephanie, she went off two years ago. A pig she was
going to be. She cried and complained, refused to leave for the Centre. She just didn't want to be transformed.
It was tough, but eventually we got her in there. We aren't allowed to make contact with the transformed, but
I'm sure she's very happy. I hope you can enjoy your transformation with a little more enthusiasm!"
The story had made Becky feel awkward, unsure if Mr Jones was genuinely happy with his daughter's fate or not.
She took her mother's order and turned to leave the shop, muttering her thanks.
"Perhaps I'll see you soon," Mr. Jones said after her. Becky froze.
"My wife loves her sweaters- perhaps we'll be lucky enough to get one of yours!"