User:Erastus/The Writing Lesson

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{{#ifeq: User |User| The Writing Lesson | The Writing Lesson}}[[Title::{{#ifeq: User |User| The Writing Lesson | The Writing Lesson}}| ]]
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 {{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus Centaur | Erastus Centaur}} | | 
   {{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus | Erastus}} | || 
     Author: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus | Erastus}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus | Erastus}}]] [[Author::{{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus | Erastus}}| ]]
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   {{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus | Erastus}} | |
     Author: {{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus Centaur | Erastus Centaur}} |
     Author: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus | Erastus}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus Centaur | Erastus Centaur}}]] [[Author::{{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus Centaur | Erastus Centaur}}| ]]
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 {{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus Centaur | Erastus Centaur}} | |
   {{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus | Erastus}} | | Authors: ' | 
     Authors: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus | Erastus}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus | Erastus}}]] 
   }} | 
   {{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus | Erastus}} | |
     Authors: {{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus Centaur | Erastus Centaur}} |
     Author: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus | Erastus}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus Centaur | Erastus Centaur}}]] 
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}} {{#if:| — see [[:Category:{{{category}}}|other works by this author]]}}

Bill sat typing away at his latest chapter in the 2x4 universe when he sensed someone nearby. He was supposed to be the only one in the house. It wasn't a sound that alerted him, but Bill was unsure what had. Perhaps the light was subtly different.

In this neighborhood, intruders were not a good thing. Bill spun his chair around to face an oddly dressed man less than two feet behind his chair.

Bill reacted quickly. He launched himself at the man to tackle him. Better to be on top of the guy before he had a chance to pull a gun or knife. Questions could come later.

The expected contact with the visitor never happened. Bill ended up in a heap in the overstuffed chair. He was sure the man had not stepped aside. So why no collision? Bill pondered that as he pulled himself out of the chair.

By the time he was standing upright, Bill thought better of another attempt to attack the guy. If this guy could sidestep a tackle another attempt won't do any good. If the tackle didn't happen because Bill simply missed... Well, another attempt wouldn't do any good in that case, either. He turned to face the man. The man had turned to face him.

The man wore an emerald porkpie hat with a black band and feather. He had a bow-tie and suspenders of the same brilliant hue over a black shirt. There were black slacks and shoes with a bit of emerald socks peeking out between the two. He was tall, amazingly slim, and had red hair, beard, and mustache. And Bill realized he could see the glow of his computer monitor through the slim waist.

About the time Bill came to that realization, the man said, "Oh! Pardon me." The man seemed to solidify. "There. That's better. Not so annoying to your brain." He stuck out his hand. "Hi. I'm your Faerie Godfather."

Bill shook the hand dumbly. "My what?"

"Well, I suppose I should say I'm a fairy Faerie, if you catch my drift." He took off the hat and stroked the feather. "I doubt a straight faerie would be caught dead in an outfit like this. Way too much style." That last word was said with a certain gusto. He put the hat back on his head with a flourish and winked.

Bill said, "Since my ugly stepsisters aren't keeping me from attending a ball with the prince tonight, I'm sure I didn't summon you. Why are you here?"

"I'm here to give you a writing lesson."

"Me?"

"Your name is Bill Kieffer?"

"Yeah. So?"

"I'm here to give you a writing lesson."

"Why give me a lesson? There are lots of people that say I write very well. There are lots of other people that need writing lessons. Why pick on me? Beside, I don't have time for that."

The Faerie reached into a pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He unfolded it and cleared his throat. He read from it.

I just simply can not write the transformations I
REALLY want to see... like, for example, I could
NEVER have written the story Cody did recently...
I just can't write a TF about a man or teen into
a car, either.
If you read Jockeying for Position you notice I
even skipped over my own Transformation... in my
TBP story I even skipped describing my TF into a
horse morph except to say it really, really hurt.

The Faerie glanced up. "Did you write this?"

"Well, yeah."

"Then this writing lesson is for you. I guarantee you will enjoy it." He winked again.

Bill let out a sigh. He had never enjoyed a lesson and doubted this would be any different.

Come to think of it, there was that time when his Goat had said, "I need to teach you a lesson." That had turned out to be very enjoyable. Bill got a warm feeling just remembering it. But this joker couldn't possibly be talking about the same thing. Could he?

Nah, Bill decided.

A glance at the face of the Faerie convinced Bill that the writing lesson was going to happen sometime. There was a look of determination in those eyes. If he convinced the Faerie to go away, there was no doubt there would be repeated visits.

Bill sighed again. "All right, let's get it over with. We can do this today, can't we."

"Oh, yes," said the Faerie, "we can get started right now. Please save whatever it is your working on. I'll have to install my teaching program."

Bill groaned inwardly. Having to use teaching software did not sound like he was going to have a good time. But, he complied. He saved his story and exited the editor. Then he closed down the mailer, the browser, the MP3 player. He got out of the chair and motioned for the Faerie to sit.

The Faerie reached into another pocket and pulled out a little gold colored tube wrapped with a string. He slid the string off and let the tube unroll, then shook it as one might shake a sheet. It stiffened into a CD-ROM. He plopped it into the reader tray and pushed the button. He then sat in the chair and theatrically flexed his fingers and cracked his knuckles.

By then the computer had put up an install window. The Faerie merely touched the screen with his finger over the "Do it!" button and leaned back with a satisfied air.

Bill hated fingerprints on his screen and was about to complain when he realized he couldn't see a fingerprint.

As the computer whirred, the Faerie stood again, yielding the seat back to Bill. The Faerie said, "Please take off you shoes and socks and roll up your pant legs."

"A writing lesson that requires me to be barefoot? What is this? Are you going to flood the floor while I type?"

The Faerie let out a braying laugh, tossing his head back as he did so. Bill wasn't sure what was so funny. The Faerie took a moment to recover his breath then said, "You said you couldn't write about a transformation. This lesson is to prove that you can and to teach you how to do it. And the best way to learn is by doing. So we are going to spend the afternoon doing. Besides, I'd hate for you to ruin a perfectly good pair of shoes."

The computer stopped whirring. The Faerie poked at the CD-ROM button, lifted the disc out of the tray, shook it, rolled it up, slipped the string around it, and slipped it back into his pocket.

The Faerie relaxed into a sitting position in the space beside Bill, though Bill saw no evidence of anything the Faerie might actually be sitting on. Bill was even more puzzled when the Faerie leaned back, put his left foot on his right knee and began to tap the right foot against the carpet, causing the Faerie to move as if in a rocking chair. Bill couldn't watch.

The screen now showed an outline of a man as one might see at the doctor's office that would identify the parts of the body--or the chalk outline of a body at a murder scene. Beside it was a large area that looked like it was set up like a word processing program. In a box above the outline were a list of animals with "horse" already highlighted. Above that was a button with "Part I". Just below the feet of the outline were three buttons with the words "Go!" "Evaluate," and "Reset."

"What I want you to do now is pull your right foot up onto your left knee and then to write about what you see. Ready?" The Faerie touched the right foot of the outline with his finger, which lit up.

This was getting weirder by the second. Bill pulled up his left foot, removed the shoe and sock, and put it down. He then brought up the right foot, stripped it bare, and left it to rest on his knee. "Ready," grumbled Bill.

The Faerie touched "Go!"

Bill watched with a mix of surprise, dread, and elation as his foot transformed into a horse's hoof.

"Now write what you saw," commanded the Faerie.

Bill sat in shock, staring at his appendage.

"Bill?"

Bill's hands hovered above his lap. He wanted to touch the fur, but was afraid of what might happen to his brain if he did.

"Bill!" The Faerie grabbed Bill's hand and brushed it through the fur. "Yes, it is real. Now write about it." The Faerie reached with the other hand to touch the text window. Its cursor began to blink.

"Uh... Write about it. Yeah. OK." Bill reached to the keyboard and let his hands hover for a moment. Then he typed.

Bill looked at his former foot--now a hoof--and
thought: This is incredible!

Bill glanced at the Faerie, who shook his head. The Faerie touched the screen over the "Evaluate" button.

A message window popped up. The word "Lame!" in large red letters filled the top half. Underneath was the message, "The description contains nothing of the actual transformation."

"Like I said," said Bill throwing up his hands, "I don't know how to write about transformations."

"Come, come, Bill. Writing about transformations is like writing about anything else. You describe what you see or describe what you imagine you might see. Let's do it again."

The Faerie touched "Reset". Within moments Bill's foot was restored to its former shape.

"This time, watch carefully. You won't be caught off guard." The Faerie touched "Go!"

Though Bill was ready for it, the change from foot to hoof still filled him with dread and elation. In a few moments, the hoof was complete.

Bill's recovery was quicker. He was about to touch the screen with his finger but remembered his fingers left prints. He moved the mouse into the text window, highlighted his previous efforts, and tapped the backspace. The text vanished.

Bill wrote.

Bill watched in fascination as his foot slowly
transformed into a hoof.

He stared at it a moment, then clicked on "Evaluate."

The message window appeared almost immediately. "Lame!" it said, and underneath, "No Detail."

"So what am I supposed to write?" Bill said in exasperation. He sighed as he clicked on "Reset."

The Faerie said, "If it wants detail, supply detail. You supply details when writing about other things, such as when your character is working in a car repair shop. Use your descriptive powers to do the same thing here."

"In a repair shop, I've seen everything done a million times. It is all right there when I think of it."

"That is the goal of the first part of this lesson," said the Faerie. "You can watch a transformation in action so you merely need to describe it when the time comes to include it in your writing. Are you ready to try again?"

Bill said, "Sure," then clicked on "Go!"

Since he knew what to expect, Bill was able to watch the transformation carefully. When the changes ended, he began to type.

As Bill watched, the outer toes shrank and the
middle one enlarged. The nail thickened into a
hoof. The foot reshaped into the pastern and the
ankle became the fetlock. Short gray fur grew
over the new pastern and fetlock.

Bill studied it a moment then slid the cursor over to click on "Evaluate".

The program paused a moment longer than before. It popped up the message window. Bill was pleased that it started differently than before. The top now said, "Grade: C." The bottom part was a full text window that now said: "Descriptive content is merely adequate. Sentence variety is low--too many sentences with the same structure. Personal involvement is low."

Bill groaned.

The Faerie said, "Just keep in mind that you are making improvement. You can't expect to go from avoiding such scenes to writing a perfect one in your first try." The Faerie reached for "Reset."

Bill put his hand in the way and moved his new hoof off his knee and dropped it to the floor. "That leg is starting to fall asleep. Let's use the other one for the next attempt."

"You're going to leave it as a hoof?" asked the Faerie.

"For now," said Bill. The Faerie saw the corners of Bills mouth turn up just a bit. Perhaps the leg was falling asleep. Perhaps not.

"Well, OK," said the Faerie. He touched the left foot of the outline. Bill brought his left foot to his right knee, then clicked on "Go!"

Again, Bill watched carefully as his left foot became a match for his right. He then typed.

As Bill watched, the four outer toes shrank. It
took only a minute for the baby toe to be
absorbed, nail and all, into the reshaping foot.
The big toe took three times as long. The middle
toe seemed to pull in the mass from those
vanishing toes, becoming rounder and longer. The
nail of that toe thickened, soon covering the
whole of the tip, then spreading outward into a
proper hoof.
Bill thought of life ahead as the hoof formed. He
couldn't easily buy shoes for his small, wide
feet, so having hooves instead would simplify
that.
The toes hadn't changed much before soft fur
began growing over what had been the foot and
ankle. The gray color was appropriate for the
creator of Grayflank. Bill smiled at that
thought.
The foot rounded out to form the proper shape of
a pastern. The change ended with a little bit of
reshaping from ankle into fetlock.
The blend from human leg to horse fetlock didn't
cover much distance, but was as graceful as Bill
thought possible.
As much as the outside world frowned on his
obsessions, Bill decided to enjoy his new feet
and not hide them from the world.

Bill looked over what he had written. He nodded in satisfaction.

A quick poke at the "Evaluate" button produced a much longer wait. After a half-minute, Bill began to stew. Finally, another popup window appeared. It said, "Grade: A-" The text below stated "The basic objectives have been achieved. Refer to style guides for additional improvement."

"Congratulations!" said the Faerie. "You have successfully completed part one."

Bill snapped his head around to face the Faerie. "Part one! You mean there is more? I gotta sit through more of this?" The Faerie nodded. "In that case, I need a break."

"Of course," said the Faerie. "But don't be so grumpy. Part two will be much more fun. I guarantee it!"

Bill put both hooves on the floor and stood up. A smile spread across his face. He took a few tentative steps, decided he had things under control and walked into the kitchen. He called back over his shoulder, "Do you want something?"

"Nothing for me," the Faerie called back. "I don't need to eat."

A few minutes later, Bill was back with a sandwich and juice. "Do you think I can keep these feet?"

"We might be able to work something out."

In between bites, Bill looked down at his hooves. "I got to thinking that the ankle doesn't actually correspond to the fetlock. It really matches the hock and the cannon matches the foot. The fetlock and pastern corresponds to the toe."

"Perhaps we can do something about that in part two,' said the Faerie.

"So can you tell me about part two?"

"Since you are almost done eating, why don't we just get started? It will only take a moment to set it up."

"You like keeping secrets, don't you."

The Faerie just grinned. He touched "Part I" which became "Part II". The animal names and outline disappeared, leaving more space for the text window.

"You probably want to take off all your clothes before you start this part," said the Faerie.

"You pervert!" said Bill. "You're a fairy Faerie and you want me to strip. I sit here and type and you sit there and ogle me. I don't think so, Tim."

The Faerie noticed that Bill didn't put much energy into his objection and had a trace of a smile at the corner of his lips. Bill's objection was all show, the Faerie concluded. He'll be no problem. Besides, it looks like he is subconsciously posing right now.

"I will admit the thought did cross my mind," the Faerie looked Bill over critically, "but there is a very good reason for typing nude."

"Sure there is," sneered Bill.

"Unless you think busting through the seams is an integral part of a transformation scene, I think you would rather save the clothes intact for another day. Besides, clothes tend not to pop open where you expect and the confinement before the clothes give way tends to hurt. But there is a more important reason--you want to be able to watch over your body as you type."

Bill mentally scratched his head over that one.

"I've got something to make body inspections easier," said the Faerie.

The Faerie reached into a pocket and pulled out a thin rectangle. He opened it like a book, though to Bill it didn't look thick enough to be more than one layer. Once the two pieces were bent back far enough, they snapped together to form one smooth surface twice as large as before. The Faerie turned the slab and repeated the operation several more times until it was as large as he was. One final operation revealed a three panel mirror suitable for use in a tailor shop. "There we go," said the Faerie as he set it on the floor behind Bill's chair.

"You can close your mouth now," the Faerie said when he saw Bill's stunned expression. Bill complied.

"Come, now, you need to get out of those clothes. I'll explain part two as you strip.

Bill glared at the Faerie but started to unbutton his shirt.

"In part two, all you have to do is write the transformation scene of your choice. Don't worry about setting, background, or trigger. Here's the fun part. If the program decides you have described a particular part of the transformation adequately, it will make your body conform to whatever you just wrote about. Write about furry ears and you will have furry ears. Write about a tail, you get a tail."

Bill grinned.

"If you want to return to your original shape, just click on reset. There is just one warning. You have to be the one to click on reset. I won't be able to do it for you. If you transform your fingers and can't type, you will be stuck in that shape. So if you do want to be stuck in a form, write about your fingers last."

Bill had worked his pants and shorts over his hooves and found it to be similar to taking off pants while keeping shoes on. If he kept the hooves, he would have to consider pants with zippers up the side. Could he start a new fashion trend?

Sometimes it takes his brain a moment to catch up. Didn't the Faerie just talk about creating a complete form? We'll deal with clothing later.

Now naked, Bill sat down in his chair, thankful that it was wood and not metal as he felt the coolness against his skin. He glanced at the Faerie.

"Go ahead," said the Faerie, "It is all set up and waiting for you." The Faerie noticed the hooves. "Oops. One moment. We need to start from your original shape." He touched "Reset". Bill's hooves reverted to plain pink human feet. The Faerie could see the frown. "It is up to you to get them back. Everything is ready now."

Bill stretched out his fingers and wiggled them above the keys, then stopped. He stared at the screen for several moments. How does one go about doing this?

The moments stretched into minutes.

He turned to the Faerie. "Where do I start?"

"Wherever you want."

Bill sat for a while longer.

The Faerie prompted, "Don't you have a favorite form you've always wanted for yourself?"

"Yes, of course."

"So you know what you are to look like when you are done typing."

"Well, maybe not exactly. But I do have a good general idea."

"That's why I set out the mirror. You can make adjustments along the way."

Bill was silent.

"So," said the Faerie, "the problem isn't in the final form but in how to get there."

"That about sums it up."

"Are you afraid you will do something wrong?" A nod from Bill. "No need to worry. You can't harm yourself. If the description is incomplete, you simply won't transform. If the transformation would cause a crippling condition or death, you won't transform and you'll get an error window. If you provide a bad description and you decide it looks ugly, you simply treat it as a halfway point and go on from there or hit reset and try again. You can even erase part of the text and the corresponding transformations will be undone. If you want, we can save the good parts for another try."

Bill continued to just sit.

"So now what?" prompted the Faerie.

Bill sat for a moment, then said, "In part one, it happened and I described what I saw. Now I have to figure out all the parts in between."

"Are you admitting to a failure of imagination?" The Faerie glared at Bill for a moment. "If you were writing about actual events in your story 'The Goat", you are one sick dude."

The Faerie hesitated for a moment as Bill returned the glare.

"Uh... I'm sorry. I can see from your expression that I shouldn't have said it that way. You have admitted in your writings you indeed have mental wobbles. And..." he hesitated again, studying Bill, "that story is not autobiographical."

The Faeries sighed and gazed off into the distance for a moment. "I suppose I should also call myself a sick dude. I actually read that story front to back, even though the tone of the story was obvious from chapter one." He paused for a moment. "By the way, great ending. I didn't see that one coming."

"Thanks," said Bill.

They both sat quietly for a moment. The Faerie said, "Where was I? Oh, yeah. So you didn't live through that story, but you could imagine it enough to write about it. Writing about transformations merely requires the same imagination."

Bill continued to just sit.

"So," said the Faerie, "what do you do when you are writing a part of the story that isn't about the transformation and you get stuck? Do you have a way to get past it?"

Bill roused himself. "I try the scene various ways to see if one works. Other times I just write whatever comes to mind in hopes of generating ideas."

"It is the same for transformation scenes," said the Faerie. "Just write. Pick an obvious feature and write to transform it. Then pick another. If you don't like what comes out, erase it. You don't have to get it right the first time. That delete button was created for a reason."

Bill decided to start with the obvious, first checking the chair to make sure there would be no problems. He began to type.

A little nub at the base of Bill's spine began to
grow, pushing the skin out around it. As the bulge
in the skin became visible, it was covered with
small white hairs. The bones of the spine split
to form new vertebrae as the nub lengthened into
a tail. The hairs also grew long with more hairs
sprouting as the tail grew. It grew at a steady
rate until the vertebrae had extended it another
foot. Muscles formed around the bones.
Humans lost their tails in the early stages of
evolution from chimps, thought Bill. Perhaps I
can correct that little problem. Of course, a
tail like that of a horse looks much better than
that of a monkey.
The soft, while hairs grew until they reached to
Bill's ankle.

Bill looked at what he had written. He decided it was at least as good as his last effort in part one.

It felt as if something touched Bill's butt, prompting him to jump up and glare at the Faerie.

"Don't look at me," said the Faerie. "You're the one that did the typing."

Bill reached behind him as he glanced in the mirror. Sure enough, he had a tail. It took several minutes to grow in, just exactly as he had written. By the time those silky what hairs had reached his knees, he had figured out how to control it. He watched it as he swished it all around. A horse tail did look pretty good on a human, Bill decided, even if this opinion was from a guy that was biased towards horses.

Bill was about to sit when he looked back at the chair. Even though he had checked that it did have space for a tail, now that he had one, a stool looked to be much more comfortable. It took but a moment to get the stool from the kitchen and settle himself on it.

Energized from his first success, Bill eagerly sat down to type.

Bill's ears began to lengthen, first by forming a
point along the upper edge, then by actually
growing. Fine black hairs sprouted over his ears.
The myriad human curls to his ears flattened as
the ears curved into equine tubes. Muscles grew
in each base to enable turning the ears as the
bases themselves migrated up the sides of his
head, where they soon perched on top. Bill's
sense of hearing seemed to broaden and deepen,
allowing him to hear his surroundings in wonderful
detail. The black hairs filled in to cover the
ears in a soft fur.
Humans shouldn't have to put up with the puny,
insensitive ears they were born with, Bill mused.

Bill leaned to the left side so he could see that ear clearly in the mirror. He put his hand gently over the right ear. He had to wait only a moment.

Yep, there it was. He felt the change under his fingers before he saw it in the mirror.

Again, it all happened as he had written. The long ears were halfway to the top of his head when he realized he could hear in a lot more detail. It startled him to notice he could not hear the Faerie breathe!

Bill bent over and twitched an ear near the Faerie's chest. No heartbeat either!

"No, I'm not alive in the same sense you are," said the Faerie. I don't eat, I don't breathe, I don't sleep."

"Yet you say you are gay," said Bill.

"I do have a sense of touch," said the Faerie, "and that sense of touch apparently stimulates me the same way it does you. Why? I have no idea. I just take advantage of it. If you like, I could demonstrate."

"Uh... no thanks. I have a body I want to create."

Bill sat at the computer again eager to make his desire come true..

Bill watched in fascination as a dapple gray fur
covered his body.

Bill jumped to his feet and scanned his image in the mirror for the first signs of growing fur. He was sure his ears and tail had started growing with much less elapsed time. Had the powers of the program worn out? After a minute, he glanced at the Faerie.

The Faerie answered the gaze. "That description was pretty lame, don't you think? The program only acts on complete descriptions."

With a defeated air, Bill sat down again. He deleted the last sentence and began again. Tails and ears were easy. This one was more of a struggle. Where should it start? Should it appear everywhere all at once or start somewhere and spread? What about the goatee? What about the hair on top of his head? Should there be variations in color? What to do with eyebrows and chest hair?

"I should remind you," said the Faerie, "that whatever you type does not need to be your final answer."

Bill thought for a few more moments, sighed, and began to type.

Bill's sparse chest hair turned from brown to
gray. New hairs sprouted in between the existing
hairs. When they were long enough, the variation
in color revealed a dapple pattern.
Once his chest was completely covered with thick,
short fur, the boundary of the fur spread slowly
downward to cover his abdomen. Hairs sprouted as
the boundary passed over a spot of skin and
reached full length a couple minutes later.
Why is it, Bill mused, that humans have no fur?
Such a covering would be so much more practical
than clothing.
The boundary of fur spread outward. It spread
down his arms, past his elbows, across the back
of his hands and down to his fingernails, leaving
only his palms exposed. It spread around his
back, meeting along the spine. It spread across
his butt and around the base of his tail and into
his crotch, covering over his balls. The fur at
the base of his member became extra thick and
twice as long as elsewhere. It spread down his
legs and across the tops of his feet to his
toenails.
Only when the fur on the rest of his body grew to
full length did it sprout on his head. It began
as a small spot in the middle of his forehead.
The boundary of the spot moved up to his hairline
and into the balding corners of his forehead. It
then moved down to his eyebrows, which thickened
and changed color. The boundary moved down his
nose, across his cheeks, under his chin, and
around his neck, joining with the fur on his
body. Bill's goatee changed color from brown to
fit into the dapple pattern, the hairs adjusting
in length to match. The final touch was the
appearance of very short hairs on his eyelids.

Bill studied it a moment, smiling in satisfaction. He stood and stepped into the angles of the mirror. In a moment, the hair began to sprout on his chest. He watched in fascination as it spread down his abdomen. He lifted his arm so he could watch the fur spread along it, smiling in satisfaction as it reached the fingernails. He watched in the mirror as fur covered his back and butt. He put a foot on the stool so he could see it cover his balls, then legs and feet. He straightened up to stare at his forehead and soon saw the fur sprout and spread across his face and neck.

When his eyelids were covered, he closed one, then the other, to see the effect. He then studied the overall effect for several minutes. "It's close, but not quite right," he said.

He sat and placed his hands on the keyboard.

The fur in the center of Bill's forehead faded in
color until a white star appeared. It was a star
with four points. The vertical points reached
from just above his nose to just below his
hairline. The horizontal points extended out to
the middle of each eye. The edges had just enough
waver to keep the star from looking artificial.
The hair on the sides of his head up to his ears
became shorter and changed from grayish brown to
dappled gray to fit into the pattern of his fur.
The hair on the top and back of his head faded to
white and stiffened into a thick, upright mane.

A couple moments after it began, the change was complete. His star looked quite nice and he couldn't keep his hands out of his mane.

What's next?, Bill thought.

He looked down across his furry chest and abdomen. All of his characters--or at least the ones he wanted to personify--were all muscle-bound. This body most definitely was not. Could he...?

Lots of transformations produced big muscles, why not this one? Besides, the Faerie didn't say there were any limits.

Bill thought of how he avoided sports as he was
always picked last. Horses never have that
problem. They are always strong.
The wiggly fat in Bill's arms shrank away as the
muscles grew. Soon the fur tightened around the
bulging muscles. They couldn't be described as
being like a branch from an oak tree, but they
were imposing enough to get someone's attention.
The change followed through to his hands, which
took on a tough firmness.
Bill's legs were next. The fat shrank as muscles
thickened, resulting in good definition. They
weren't quite the same as trunks of oak trees,
but they looked like they could carry their owner
a long distance, allowing him to jump easily over
any obstacle.
Bill's large abdomen shrank away which allowed
him to notice expanding chest muscles. The thirty
nine inch chest and forty two inch waist became a
forty four inch chest and a thirty inch waist.
There was enough definition that Bill could see
individual abdominal muscles.
The extra fat in Bill's cheeks and chin melted
away, so that even his face looked athletic.

Bill stood and stepped into the angles of the mirror. In all his sporadic attempts at dieting had he ever seen something like this. In just a few minutes he had gone from looking like a pushover to looking intimidating. It was a lovely, heady feeling. No longer would he get the sideways glance from another man that said, "You? Yeah, right."

"That passage seemed to bring out the poet in you," said the Faerie near Bill's shoulder. A hand reached out to stroke Bill's chest. "What's more, you're looking fine!"

Bill looked down at the hand on his chest. It was doing things only his wife had done before. That thought jolted him enough that it was a moment before he realized the hand didn't have the pink skin he expected, but was covered in dappled gray fur like his own. He shifted his eyes to the Faerie--and saw a creature that looked like his double, down to the lack of clothes. Well, the hat remained, its emerald color interrupted by two gray ears.

"Shall we head to the bedroom now, or perhaps you would like to make one more change?" The Faerie's eyes scanned down Bill's chest, and stopped a bit below the waist.

What happens if you refuse a Faerie, especially one that claims to be your godfather? Do you get some type of wonderful award if you satisfy him? Does he take his toys and go home or turn you into a toad if you refuse? Calling him a pervert because he asks you to take your clothes off is one thing. This was a whole 'nother league! What happened if he did nothing? Bill stood there frozen, almost not daring to breathe.

The Faerie turned his head for a moment as if listening to something in the distance. He withdrew his hand, picked up the mirror and started folding it. Bill let out his breath. The Faerie turned to Bill and said, "I'm afraid I have to go. I'll leave the program installed on your computer so you can practice your writing with it whenever you want. A side benefit,"--he paused in his mirror folding long enough to touch on "File" and pointed to "Save"--"you can save what you have written. When you open that file, the program will recreate the changes. You can also shut the program down to keep a form then hit reset the next time you run it. You don't even have to keep the computer running" He slipped the folded mirror into his pocket.

Bill liked dilemmas that simply evaporated.

"I gotta go," the Faerie said, glancing at the window. As Bill watched, the Faerie faded from view. Before disappearing completely, the Faerie pointed to the screen and said, "Keep practicing. You'll do well!"

Just then Bill heard his wife's car. Melanie was back from a full day of shopping. He was glad she hadn't dragged him along.

A thought occurred to Bill, causing him to smile as he rolled it around in this brain. Why not? He scrolled back through his transformation scene, found the section that transformed his ears, highlighted and copied it, scrolled back to the end and pasted it in. He substituted her name in place of his own. Would it work?

Melanie had parked the car in view of the big window, shut off the engine, and grabbed her purse by the time Bill was done with the name substitution. He watched as she got out of the car and started hauling bags out of the back seat.

Normally when Bill saw so much stuff he would get annoyed with his wife's extravagance. This time, he barely noticed. He was watching her ears.

In a moment, they started to grow and darken with black fur. Bill whispered, "Yesss!" and pumped his fist.

A few more packages came out of the back seat, then Melanie walked around to the trunk, fumbled with the keys, and opened it. About the time the ears reached full size, she leaned into the trunk--brushing her new ears against the trunk lid.

Her reaction was immediate and swift. Her hands flew to her ears and felt their strange shape. She faced the window and bellowed, "Bill, you get rid of these things RIGHT NOW!"

How did she know it was me? he thought. That tone of voice was immediately identified as She Who Must Be Obeyed on Pain of Death!

So he did. It was almost an automatic, knee-jerk kind of reaction. He reached to the screen and touched "Reset".

He felt his new shape relax. Aaargh! He searched the screen frantically for an "Undo" button, but found none. He could almost weep! Bulging muscles gone! Tail and ears gone! Fur gone! By the time he sagged back on the stool, he was back to human--cold, fat, and half deaf.

That position left him facing the window, where he watched his wife pat her human ears. She decided they were just right and turned back to the trunk.

A moment later Melanie was in the house, through the kitchen, and standing in the doorway. "Why are you sitting buck naked in front of your computer?" She held out a hand to stop a reply. "Never mind. I don't want to know." She gathered up her bundles and headed to the bedroom. She passed the doorway a few more times retrieving more bundles from the yard. Bill hardly noticed.

Bill sat there for a long time.

He and the Faerie had saved the scene, hadn't they? He couldn't bear to check just now. If he hadn't, he decided he could recreate it someday. The form wasn't quite what he had in mind anyway. When he tried again, he would have time to consider the new form carefully.

If only he could convince his wife that a blend of horse and human was really a good idea.

He pondered that for several moments.

Hmm. Perhaps he could make some small changes, get her used to the idea.

He thought a moment about his wife's desire for romantic evenings after a day of hard shopping, from what he had seen in the yard, it had been a lot of hard shopping. A trip to the mall seemed to be an aphrodisiac for her. She probably won't need a match to light the candles at dinner, a touch from her finger would probably be enough.

Got it! There were ways to physically enhance the passion. For her that could include a bit of tightening here and there, especially there. For him that would mean a bit of thickening and lengthening, well, a bit of thickening and a lot of lengthening. Perhaps, Bill thought, there were ways to improve this human form even while exploring the ideal human-horse blend. He turned to the keyboard and began to type.

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