FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Marco heard the screech of tires and the wail of police sirens in his dreams, their shrill cacophony droning towards his house like a tsunami of sound. Tucked away in his bed, head half-buried in his comforter, he didn't see the flickering blue light show that came through his window, illuminating his bedroom, but he damn sure heard the squad of police cars who created it. There were only on his street for a few seconds before their pursuant belted down the next turn, the suspension squeaking as it smashed into a curb and the poor stop sign on its corner.

Marco was ripped out of his sleep, sitting up from out his comforter with a dazed look on his face. The sirens were already fading away. He looked out the window and saw none of their color. In the sleep-addled state of his mind he was able to recognize them as police sirens. His alarm clock read 11:49 in glaring red letters. What the hell was that?

He shot out of his bed and looked out through his window to see the street in front of his house. Everything was fine except for the street corner where the stop sign had been uprooted from its post like a bad weed. It lay crumpled on the pavement, its metal shaft bent out of shape. The lights of his neighbors' houses were all turning on. Might as well join them.

He ran to his dresser to throw on some sweatpants and a loose T-shirt. He went outside to his porch into the humid night, arms crossed in front of his chest. His next door neighbor, a friend named Tom, was on his porch too, staring out into the lamp-lit street and listening to the yonder police chase.

"Did you see what happened?" Marco asked him.

Tom shook his head. "No, but I heard it. Look." He pointed at the street corner. "They ran into the stop sign!"

"Yeah, I saw."

Tom's eyes fell on Marco's lawn. "Hey! There's something on your lawn."

Marco looked and saw something sitting in the grass, near the curb. In the corona of the street lights he could not make out the item's shape. It was no bigger than a football, half concealed by the blades of grass Marco had recently been neglecting to cut. What caught his and Tom's eye was an otherworldly blue light that emanated from it like a dying glowstick. Marco had to get a better look. He walked off his porch towards it, eyes locked on the queer artifact with a curious frown.

"Careful," Tom warned. "You don't know what that is."

"I will be, I will be," Marco said. "I just wanna look." He came over bent at the waist, his gaze locked on the blue glow. Only once his entire upper body was leaned over it did he recognize that the glowing object was inside of a jar. His eyes narrowed to better focus on the material as its light started to imprint itself on his retinas. Unable to make out its shape, Marco fell into a squat for a better look.

"Marco..." said Tom, his concern evident.

Marco ignored him. The object inside the jar, he saw, was some kind of luminous mineral formed as jagged crystals. Each crag and facet did not merely glow blue but shimmered like a rainbow as the street lights refracted through it. His reflection was bowed over the jar, that mesmerized expression peering back up at him. Plugging the jar was a fat cork the size of his fist. Something like morbid curiosity begged him to pull it out. With one hand he reached out and grabbed the jar by its neck.

Tom watched nervously. He meant to speak up again, but wasn't sure if Marco would even listen. He could only see a sliver of Marco's face, but could tell he was enraptured with the glowing substance. "You be careful with that," he said finally. "You might wanna tell the police before you do anything to it. I wouldn't want my fingerprints on it."

Marco looked over his shoulder at him. "Huh? Oh yeah. You're right. I will, I just..." He turned back to look at the glowing mineral. It reminded him of rock candy, but no rock candy he had ever encountered had this kind of weight, color, or brilliance. "I just wanna look at it." With that he cradled the jar to his chest and walked back to his porch, the police and whatever the hell was going having been forgotten.

He thought he heard Tom say something else to him. He ignored him and burst through the front door, closing it with a slam. He marched it to the kitchen, staring at it in his hand like a teenager glued to their phone. He didn't realize what he was doing until his fingers were already clamped to the neck of the jar, trying to pull out the cork. The very tips of his fingers bent around the dead wood, his nails turning white as he squeezed the blood out of them. He pulled the jar into his chest for a tighter grip. His arm started to rattle and his teeth gritted.

"Come on!" he hissed, but the cork wouldn't listen. It was stuck for good. He stopped with a sigh, but he hadn't given up. OK, so fingers won't work. A quick look around the kitchen landed his gaze on one of the drawers. He yanked it open, sliding its many utensils around inside it. Among them was his wine bottle opener. "There we go!"

He pulled it out and extended the screw from its bottom. The jar was put on the counter so he could start twisting the stainless steel helix into the cork. He watched the tip sprout from the bottom side and reflect the rock's alien glow. He kept going until the bottom of the opener pressed into the cork. Yes! One hand gripped the neck while the other got a firm hold on the opener. He gave it a hard pull.

There wasn't any satisfying_thoop!_ of the cork coming out. Instead the screw ripped out a crumbling core sample of dry wood, leaving a ragged hole in the plug. Marco held the opener above it like a dagger, the wings extended and the bottle opener tilted at him mockingly.

"Shit! Come on..." He went to stick the screw back into the hole so he could attempt prying the cork out. He came to a halt when he noticed a spotlight of blue aura geysering from the hole, straight up to his ceiling. It appeared even through the bright light of his kitchen, leaving a crisp, jagged blue shape above him. Cool, but not enough to stop him from the task ahead. That urge to free the rock was intensifying. It tingled across his spine, creating gooseprickles across his skin. I gotta get this thing out now.

He stabbed the screw back into the hole. He did not bother with going smoothly, opting instead to pry the cork out like a crowbar. One side of the rim started to rise out of the glass, but only slightly. Marco's hands shook, they were clenched so tightly. With a curse he pulled himself into the edge of the counter and brought the jar up to his stomach. The glass pressed into his shirt. He resumed his arduous prying, and the cork started to move again. His clenched teeth managed a smile. Come on! You can do it! And so it could.

Thoop!

The cork popped out of the jar, but at a terrible cost. The sudden jerk of it coming out on his intense pulling caused it to slip right out of his grasp. The jar was launched off the counter edge, across his torso. His hand shot out to catch it, only to propel it even faster into the tile floor.

SMASHHHHHH!

The jar shattered into a million pieces, blowing out across the white tiles like a broken water balloon. The mineral suffered worse, pulverizing against the linoleum into a fine dust from the elaborate crystal it had been. Opalescent snow blew out with the glass and gave birth to a cloud of particles that erupted into the air. Marco, still in the motion of reaching for the jar, got a faceful of it. He rocketed up right, face scrunched shut and turned away from the scratchy fumes. The inside of his nostrils had become sandpaper. Across the mucous of his throat was a burn that threw him into a fit of coughs. He bowed over again, this time over the counter, wrist in front of his open mouth.

"KOFF-KOFF-KOFF! GUHHHHHHH-KOFF-KOFF!" Spit drooled from his open lips. Every inhale was a rake of claws across his throat. Snot bled from his nostrils, forbidding any breath coming through his nose. By the time he stopped his eyes were red and his lips were soaked. "Fuck..." he groaned. He ripped a sheet of paper towel from its roll and blew his nose into it. When he looked into it he saw the gay colors of the mineral dashed in his snot like glitter. Fuck. That's not good.

He wiped the rest of his face clean with another paper towel and dashed for the pantry where he kept his broom. What the hell was I thinking? This could be dangerous stuff! Once he'd grabbed the broom he pulled the collar of his shirt over his nose and came back to the mess. I'll get this shit off the floor, dump it in the trash, and call the police. I'll tell the truth: curiosity got the better of me. He laid the dust pan on the floor next to the mess and began sweeping it up into a pile.

That's when the tingling started.

It began in his chest, right atop the breastbone where his forest of chest hairs felt like they were being pulled straight. He scratched it absentmindedly at first, then felt it spread across his upper body, down his arms, and throughout his pelvis and thighs. It was like every follicle of hair on his body was standing on end, ready to either fall out or pull the top layer of his skin off. He had to stop sweeping so he could scratch himself.

He cursed and put the broom aside. The pile of glass and dust was left in a pile behind him as he went running for the bathroom to see what was wrong with him. Please don't be bad, please don't be bad, please don't be bad, please don't be bad! Bursting through the door he saw himself in the wall mirror. Nothing was wrong at first glance. His skin was the same color of bronze and his physique was the same. There was something slightly off, however, something he couldn't put his finger on until he laid his hand on his face. His facial hair was receding into his jawline. What had been an opaque carpet of black was now much more translucent. The mustache, only moments ago bushy and proud, was only pencil-thin.

With growing panic he rubbed his fingers down his jowls, peeling the bottom lids off his eyes. I'm seeing things, he told himself. The hair isn't going anywhere. Such a delusion evaporated once his beard waned into a five o'clock shadow, then a cleanly shaven face. "No, no no!" He pulled at his head hair and found it unshrunken. In fact, he thought it felt thicker, longer, like an added weight that had settled on his scalp. "What the fuck is-? NO!"

He grabbed the front of his shirt and tore it over his head. As he predicted, all of his chest and stomach were smooth of any hair. The tingling that had overtaken him was gone, but only because there was no more hair to take from him. Instead he felt the hair on his head continue to blossom, becoming a fabulous mop of dense black fur that would make even the most experienced barber take pause. He watched as it crept down his horrified features, absorbing the top part of his vision and parting around it to create a gossamer bob. He pulled at it mercilessly, only to feel pain where it was deeply rooted into his scalp.

The focus on his hair was torn away by a pallor that fell across his face. The melanin that kept his skin a deep tan seemed to plummet into his body, turning it into a much softer white. When his hands came up to press into his cheeks he saw their color had vanished too. Worse still was that they were not the relatively burly mitts of a man, but the dainty digits of someone much smaller or younger.

He looked down at his palms. They were softening by the second with the breadth of his fingers slimming into something precious. There was a breeze across his hips and buttocks as his sweatpants began sliding down. He grabbed the waistband on reflex and noticed that it was no longer clung to his skin. The boxers beneath them were falling too, leaving his newly whitened skin to glow in the bathroom light.

"What the hell!?" A desperate pull on the waist strings tightened it back into his pelvis, but only for a few moments before it went slack again. The pant legs were crumpling to the floor around his feet. The space between his crotch and the fabric was uncomfortably spacious. With a sinking heart he let go of them and watched as they plummeted to the floor around his feet, leaving him in the nude.

It exposed the worst of his transformation. His genitals were shrinking with the rest of him, vanishing into his groin with terrifying speed. "NO!" He grabbed at his nubby pecker, only to feel it slip away into the ocean of skin beneath it. In its wake formed a female set of reproductive organs cloven at their middle to form neat lips. The black pubes that had been there before remained, albeit much shorter and ruly.

His feminization continued with the bloat of his breasts. Dark brown nipples turned into a kinder pink. His shoulders slimmed. The semi-rigid shape of muscles that defined his torso softened. The slight paunch that jutted in front of his abdomen flattened into a tummy. The masculine rigidity of his jaw vanished along with the other harsh features that defined his face. His eyes grew larger, their dark brown color fading into a steep gray. The brow sank into his forehead while the nose became a cute, pink button.

Marco, by all accounts a woman at this stage, felt the last of his transformation come into motion with a sudden pressure that set upon the root of his spine. "Hyah!" That cry was not Marco the man's, but Marco the woman's, squeaky and delicate like she'd just seen a mouse scurrying across the kitchen floor. Her hands came to her lower back where she felt something else growing. It was an appendage of flesh doused in soft fur and growing at a heavy rate. It slinked through her grasp like a snake, the tickly hairs grazing her palms. She did a half-turn to look at it in the mirror and saw what it was: a fat, bushy black tail.

"Noooooo!" she squealed. "No, no, noooo!" Her protest went unheeded as the tail continued to grow into an enormous fan of black floof. Rising to the fur's surface was an ash color, then a snowy white. It spilled across the tail's length like a river, root to tip, creating a stark, monochromatic contrast. At the same time she saw a streak of white fur split down her scalp, usurping most of the black and creating a tiny white streak that dove down the center of her bangs. Her tail finished growing. It stood behind her in the shape of a question mark, the curled tip rising well above her head like a bodyguard. The last of her transformation came when a thin sliver of white hair sprung from the apex of her scalp to create an alfalfian antenna that swayed to the side playfully.

Marco (calling herself that seemed bizarre all of the sudden) recognized what she had become: a skunk, or more specifically, a girl skunk. She stood in front of the mirror in a state of absolute shock. The image before her could not have been her reflection, but the window to another room where a skunk girl happened to be standing. She lifted one hand, and the girl across from her did the same. It laid on her cheek, sinking into the gossamer skin and feeling how warm it was. Colder was the air her bare skin was exposed to, causing her to cross one arm over her chest and lay a hand over her crotch.

As if triggered by her modesty there came a sudden sprinkling of light that materialized above the summit of her head. She ducked away from it, terrified, but it followed her perfectly. It was the same shimmering opal color like the crystal she had found. It bled white sparks all around her crown like a sparkler wand and performed a spiral around her head and body. As it crossed in front of her collar there appeared a gray sweater that clung to her torso and held at bay the chill of the bathroom. Marco gasped as the whirling lights blessed her with a perfectly fitted sweater and then a short green skirt as it passed her hips. Down her legs it created a pair of matching thigh-high socks. Once it disappeared into the floor Marco had on a nice pair of shoes to compliment her outfit.

It was... a pleasant surprise, for sure, but she had just about had enough surprises for one night. Her hands groped and squeezed around her new body. Every bit of it was real, from the enormous skunk tail that towered behind her to the full head of hair that sat on her head like a helmet. Pulling on her clothes made her think they would stretch with her skin, but she was glad to find out that they were separate and could be removed, not that she wanted to.

What is this? What the fuck IS THIS? The adorable cherub looked familiar in a way she couldn't describe, the sort of feeling when you see an actor you don't know the name of who you'd seen in a movie you didn't know the title of. While the skunk girl's face was wholly alien to him, it rang a bell furiously but at a pitch so high that it was barely perceptible. Not a skunk, but something else...

Then came the missing move. Japari Park, that place he'd seen advertised to death on TV. Cute animal girls singing and dancing, inviting people to come over and meet the "world famous" Kemono Friends. Marco looked at his hands. That stuff in the jar. Was that Sandstar? What was it doing in a jar on my lawn? Who were those police after? Why a skunk? Why me? She had none of the answers, nor did she know how to get them.

"God... Nooooo..." That high-pitched voice that came out of her was surreal to listen to. Trying to make her voice go deeper only made things even more unnatural. The deep thrum from earlier was gone, a sign of maturity and masculinity robbed of him by a sudden and seemingly irreversible change into a woman.

Now what? Call the cops? Call an ambulance? How the hell was she supposed to explain any of this to anybody? She gasped. Alyssa, her girlfriend, was coming back from a business trip tomorrow. She was going to see her like this. Then there was her family, and the neighbors. What would they think seeing a petite skunk woman walking out of Marco's house without him being there? Would they even believe what happened? Tom might. He had repeatedly warned Marco to stay away from the jar. If only she'd listened.

If she called anyone they wouldn't believe it was Marco talking to them over the phone, or at least they would think it was a prank. Getting the police or any other authority wasn't going to help, not when there was absolutely no way they would know what to do with her. They'd probably charge her a fine for wasting an emergency service. Calling someone, anyone, on the phone was a non-option.

But that didn't make showing someone her new form in the flesh was going to be easy. Alyssa would have to come home to find Marco, the man she'd fallen in love with, as an entirely different sex and amalgamation of species. How was she supposed to react to that? She'd probably think she was some intruder or prankster. What was Marco going to say?

She didn't have an answer. Her hands went to the side of her head, gripping the locks of hair like someone going insane; she certainly felt that way. Calm down. Just calm down. Her face lit up and her skunk tail flicked as an idea fell on her. I can still text! She bolted out of the bathroom, noticing how much higher and bigger the door knob was. Her mini-skirt fluttered around her as she charged up the stairs, a hike given her tiny legs. Back in her bedroom she found her phone on the nightstand, plugged into the wall. Holding the heavier-feeling device in her hands she thought of something to text.Maybe warn her I'll look different, or that someone will be here besides me. The latter would be better, he thought. She should expect someone who looks like this at first. Then I'll break the news. She hastily tapped up a message:

Marco: Hey! Wanted to let you know that a friend of mine asked if she could spend the night here because her dad kicked her out of the house. I said we would let her sleep on the couch if you said it was OK.

That was the best she could come up with. After re-reading the message several times she finally hit send. She looked at the time. It was 12:39, well past the time he thought Alyssa would be asleep. She'll ask what I did when she wakes up. I hope she doesn't mind me making a decision for her. Then again, that'll be the least of her worries when she gets here... She typed up another message.

Marco: I told her she could sleep here. I hope you don't mind. Love you.

She hit send and sighed. After all of the night's excitement beginning with the police sirens she was utterly exhausted. The bed, last occupied by a human man, was taken over by a little skunk gal. She split a big yawn, pulled the covers over her little body, and curled herself into a little ball with her tail in front of her so she could sleep.

* * *

Marco woke up well into the next morning, still curled into her comfy little ball. Her limbs stretched as a great big yawn sucked through her mouth. Sitting up she was reminded of her size by the heft of the comforter, now almost like a lead blanket. One eye was half-closed and her hair was a disaster. Nothing would've been better than lying down and going back to sleep. Snapping her out of that idea was the reminder that Alyssa was on her way home.

Marco looked at the nightstand where his phone was. The clock next to it read 10:17. If he remembered correctly, Alyssa said she would be home in the afternoon, giving Marco plenty of time. She snatched her phone and saw a few text messages from Alyssa. They were all from earlier that morning when she had gotten up.

Alyssa: Yeah that's fine. Who is she? Is she gonna spend more than one night?

Alyssa: Someone we know?

Alyssa: Be home around 1230 or 1.

Marco felt some relief. She started typing

Marco: Her name is

Shit. What do I call myself?

Marco: Her name is Maria.

God, I hope I don't start calling myself that. Or maybe I should. Fits a helluva lot better than Marco.

Marco: You never met her. Friend from school. She dresses up weird.

She reread Alyssa's first message. Is she gonna spend more than one night? Marco sure as fuck hoped not.

Marco: Should only be one night. She said this is only until she can find a way to get to her brother's.

Marco hit send and fell backwards with a groan. "Please buy that." She pinched her nose and rubbed it. Sleep beckoned it, but she shook it off. Alyssa was on her way home, and she had to be ready to break the news to her.

Coming back to the bathroom mirror was hardly less of a shock than it was last night. She took some time to fully examine herself, including a test of how maneuverable her tail was. It was a delight to watch and hear it swoosh behind her. Could she spray? She didn't know, and she didn't want to find out. Alyssa's hairbrush had to be borrowed after a few strokes of Marco's comb failed to pull out the many knots and frizzes she'd accumulated over night. Several minutes tugging at her thick, black and white locks helped her appreciate the struggle many long-haired women went through every morning. Without her input that single cowlick of white stood out proudly. It was kinda cute, so she let it be.

After a breakfast of cereal she brushed her teeth and sat in the kitchen where she could watch the oven clock approach noon. A message from Alyssa dinged her phone.

Alyssa: OK. We'll talk about it when I get there. Love you.

Marco: Love you too.

It was not an hour later when Marco watched Alyssa's car pull into the driveway. She came out with her suitcase and walked up to the front steps. Marco made a hasty retreat to the kitchen. Her nerves were a wreck. This isn't going to be fun. She heard the front door open followed by Alyssa's voice.

"Helloooooooo! Marco?"

Marco was on the other side of the wall across the front door, cringing. Here we go. She stepped out into the doorway to show herself. Alyssa jolted, not having expected anything like the creature that stood in front of her. "Oh! Hi! You must be..."

"Maria," Marco said. "That's what I... Marco, said on the text."

"Yeah, yeah. Nice to meet you." Alyssa looked around. "Is he here?"

Marco gritted her jaw around. "Yeah, kinda."

Alyssa frowned. "Kinda? Is he OK?"

"Yeah, he's fine. He's not hurt."

That didn't help Alyssa's concern. "What happened?"

Marco gave her a painful look. Fuck it. Just rip the band-aid off. "Hey, Alyssa. It's me. I'm Marco."

Alyssa's frown deepened, then transformed into a smile, back to a frown, and ended on a grin with her eyes narrowed. "What... What are you talking about?"

"It's me, Alyssa. I swear I'm not messing with you. Marco, your boyfriend."

Alyssa's smile vanished, this time for good. "Alright, this isn't funny. Who are you?"

She really isn't making this easy. I don't blame her. "I swear to God it's me, Marco. I broke some kind of magic crystal or some shit and it turned me into..." She gestured to herself. "This." Alyssa said nothing. Her eyes traveled Marco up and down, completely ignorant as to what to say or how to react. Marco sighed. "Ask me anything that only Marco would know the answer to. I'll know it. Try it."

Alyssa thought for a moment. Her face lit up as she thought of something. "What's my favorite childhood movie?"

Marco didn't hesitate. "Aristocats. Your favorite song is 'Everybody Wants to be a Cat'. You make me sing along with you everytime we watch it. You grab my hand and pull me along while you dance to it."

Alyssa's eyes went round. "Did Marco tell you that?"

"No, Alyssa. It's me."

She still wasn't buying it. She pointed at her. "You've got an earpiece in! He's telling you this shit." She looked out towards the rest of the house and shouted. "Come out here, you asshole! Nice try!"

"Alyssa!" Marco barked in the most authoritative tone her teeny voice could muster. "I don't have an earpiece. See?" She pulled her hair off her ears and showed Alyssa the empty canals. "Nothing. I don't have anything else. It's me."

Alyssa went quiet again. Slowly the shock began to brighten her features as it became clear. "Marco?"

About damn time. "Yeah, it's me. How was your trip?"

"Oh my God!" Alyssa came charging over and squatted in front of her. She grabbed her wrists and looked her over like some rare artifact. "What happened? Why are you like this?"

"I don't know! I mean... Something happened last night."

Alyssa snapped her gaze up at her. "What? What happened?"

"I... There was a police chase."

"You were chased by the police?"

"No, no, no. Not me. Down the neighborhood, the police were chasing somebody. I didn't see who, but I think they dropped something onto our lawn. It was a super pretty crystal inside of a jar. I don't know what made me do it- Tom warned me not to -but I brought it inside and opened it. I accidentally dropped it and inhaled the dust. Then I turned into this..."

Alyssa took another look at her mephitine form. "Wait... Are you a Kemono Friend?"

"That's what I'm thinking, yeah."

"And the stuff in the jar, was it that stardust stuff, or whatever they call it?"

"Sandstar, and yeah, I'm pretty sure it was."

"OK... Um... Do you know why it turned you into a skunk? I mean, don't they usually do it on animals?"

She shook her head. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"Yeah... Did you tell anyone else? The police?"

"No. You're the first person. I didn't think anyone would believe me over the phone and I thought you'd think it was a joke or something if I called you and told you."

Alyssa stood up, nodding sadly. "Yeah, that makes sense."

Marco looked down at her little bitty hands. She didn't think she would get used to how tiny they were. "I don't know what to do. What'll I tell my parents? Fuck, I have work in a few hours. What do I tell them?"

Alyssa scratched her head. "I can call and tell them you're sick."

"Yeah, but they'll probably ask to talk to me. I can't replicate my old voice. It'll sound weird. I'm not gonna be able to explain this."

"Well, you explained it to me." Alyssa shook her head. "Sorry, I'm still having trouble believing all this."

Marco looked back at her floofy skunk tail, still looming behind her almost menacingly. "So am I."

"Look. I'm pretty sure this is more important than work. We should get this figured out before we worry about that."

Marco crossed her arms guiltily. "I don't know. I feel bad leaving them in the dark."

"Are you gonna let them know before your parents?"

"No. Yes. I don't know. God, I keep forgetting about my parents. This is gonna be rough."

Alyssa expressed her remorse. "Look, if it's that important, go to work and let them know. If they don't believe you, they don't believe you. If they do, hell, maybe there's some way somebody can help you."

"Yeah, cool. Maybe. Um..." Marco looked off in the distance.

"What?"

Her steely gray eyes swooped up to meet Alyssa. "I know you just got back, but... Think you can drive me there?"

* * *

It was the most interesting drive to work she'd ever been on, that's for sure. She felt puny in the passenger seat, keeping her tail tucked behind her so nobody outside would see it. Alyssa parked in the deck next to the office building. "Good luck," she told Marco as she slid out of the seat and onto the asphalt.

Marco just sighed and pulled her skirt down. "Thanks, I'll need it."

She made her way to the front desk where a security guard stood by a metal detector. He gave the little skunk woman an odd look. "Well, hi there," he greeted with a baffled look on his face. "Here to give a skunk-o-gram to someone? From Japari Park?"

Marco rolled his eyes. "Not quite." She flashed her company ID card. "Marco gave me this. I have a message for his boss, Mr. Osada. He wants me to send it personally."

The security guard flinched away from the card and took it to look at it. He scanned it with a reader to confirm it was real. "Well, alright then. Take out everything in your pockets and put it in the bin."

Marco tugged on her skirt. "I don't have any pockets."

"Oh. OK. Uhhh, anything in the..." He looked at something behind her.

"What? In my tail? No, there is not."

"Well alright. Step on through then."

Marco did so. "Thanks, Ben."

"No problem." As he watched the adorable skunk gal saunter through the lobby he glanced down at his chest to see if he had his nametag on. He didn't. Have I ever even seen a gal like that? "Huh..." He shrugged it off. Whatever.

Marco took the elevator to her floor, sharing the ride with some other folk who gave her some very odd looks. One guy jokingly asked "You're not gonna spray me, are you?"

Marco cut her eyes at him. "Not if you don't piss me off, no."

The jokester's smile quickly faltered. He looked straight ahead and minded his own business. Geez, fine then, bitch.

Marco made it to her floor and found herself in the sorely familiar accounting office. Several of her coworkers spotted her coming out of the elevator. Before her was a gallery of amused and perplexed faces. She walked past them, straight for Mr. Osada's office. Each coworker she passed gave her a smile. A few said "hi". She would greet them back, even referring to their name and nickname. Rewarding her would be a look of shock and either amusement or fear. She made it to Mr. Osada's office door and knocked twice.

"Come in."

She opened the door and peeked inside. "Mr. Osada?"

He was behind his desk, doing something on his desktop. He spotted the skunk girl in his doorway and smiled uncertainly. "Well, hello there. Can I help you?"

"Yes sir, you can." She stepped the rest of the way inside and closed the door behind her. "Mr. Osada, this is going to sound very strange."

"I bet it will." He gestured to a chair in front of his desk. "Please have a seat."

Marco sat down. The skunk tail was smushed between her and the backrest. "Yes sir, you may not believe me, in fact it's going to be hard to explain, but I'm one of your employees, Marco. I work at the desk in the corner of this office."

Mr. Osada frowned, a reaction Marco was coming to expect with everyone by this point. "Marco?"

She nodded. "Yes sir, it's me. I know that sounds crazy, but-"

Mr. Osada waved it off. "No, no. Not really, actually."

It was Marco's turn to be surprised. "Sir?"

"Yes. Tell me, did you happen to come by some Sandstar? From Japari Park?"

Her ears flicked inside of her hair. "Yes! I did!"

Mr. Osada's smile was back. He nodded slowly. "I thought you did. I see what happened. I thought I recognized your neighborhood."

Now she was really confused. "Sir?"

Osada went to his computer and rapidly typed something up. "Here we go." He clicked something and turned the monitor around towards Marco. It showed a news article with the thumbnail to a video. In big, black letters the title read:

SHIPMENT OF MUTAGEN "SANDSTAR" STOLEN FROM JAPARI PARK

HIGH SPEED POLICE CHASE FOLLOWS

Osada pointed to the video thumbnail. "I was watching this last night. They were broadcasting the chase. They said it went through Guererro street, which I recognized as the neighborhood you told me you lived in."

Marco's heart was racing. Holy fuck! "How'd they get that stuff?"

Osada turned the computer back around. "I don't know. Honestly I thought that stuff was all make believe. I always found those commercials insufferable, how they claimed to change animals into those 'friends' or whatever. Now..." He split a wide grin. "Now the evidence is sitting in my office. Crazy, right?"

Marco was simply stunned. She slumped in her chair, head swimming. "Yeah..." she muttered. "It is."

Osada grew serious. "Take as much time off as you need. It will be paid."

She perked up. "Really?"

He nodded curtly. "Of course. All the time you need. Go find a cure and spend time with your family."

Marco rubbed her hand down her face. "Thank you sir. I needed that. Last night and this morning was hell."

"I'm sure it was, now get out of here! Go be with your family."

Marco slid off the front of her chair. She didn't have to be told twice. "Yes sir!"

THE END