"You've turned into a chicken."
* * * * *
The little bird lifted its wings and looked down at itself. "How come
I'm a chicken, Bob?" it said, cocking its head to one side and staring
at him with its left eye.
"Ah, nuts," he explained. "I expected you to be more of a pigeon
thing." Bob mulled over the ingredients of his stew to see what went
wrong.
The chicken hopped around the chair on one leg, flapped its wings
experimentally and found itself on the kitchen table. It walked to the
far corner and peered into a small mirror that hung on the side of the
sink cabinet.
"I'm a pretty ugly chicken, boy," it said.
It inspected itself with its other eye and, finding no improvement,
walked back to Bobby.
"I don't like to be a chicken, Bob," it said.
"Why not? What does it feel like?"
"It feels skinny and I can't see so good."
"How else does it feel?"
"That's all how it feels. Make me stop being it."
"First tell me better what it's like."
"I told you already. Make me stop being it."
"What are you afraid of? Why don't you see what it's like first, before
you change back? This is a valuable experience."
The chicken tried to put its hands on its hips, but could find neither
hips nor hands. "You better change me back, boy," it said, and gave Bob
the left-eye glare.
"Will you stop being stupid and just see what it's like first?" Bob was
finding it difficult to understand her lack of curiosity.
"Wait till Mom sees what an ugly mess I am, boy. Will you ever get it!"
Bonnie was trying very hard to see Bob with both eyes at once, which
was impossible.
"You're a sissy, Bonnie. You ruined the opportunity of a lifetime. I'm
disgusted with you." Bob dipped his forefinger in the serum and held it
toward the chicken. It pecked what it could from the finger and tilted
its head back.
In an instant, the chicken was gone and Bonnie was back. She climbed
down from the table, wiped her eyes and said, "It's a good thing you
fixed me, boy. Would you ever have got it."
"Ah, you're nothing but a sissy," Bob said, and licked off a whole
fingerful of his formula. "If I change into a horse, I won't let you
ride me, and if I change into a leopard, I'll bite your head off." Once
again, the loud _pop_ was heard.
* * * * *