TF: Unexpected Red 7 (old and bad)

>So, you find that you can actually stand on your hind legs if you try really hard.
>It's kind of like standing on your toes, if standing on your toes was about ten times more difficult.
>You tried going on all fours, but your body still isn't proportioned correctly, the ponification hasn't really spread too far pas your knees yet, so your hind legs are still too long.
>You get the feeling that you should be much more upset by this than you are, but your mind still feels a bit muggy, and your instincts are screaming at you to find sustenance.
>Your throat feels dry and cracked from all that ragged panting you were doing, and you had no idea what the word ravenous truly meant until right about now.
>All these radical transformations must have kicked your metabolism into overdrive or something.
>That's probably what you would think if you thought any of this could possibly make any kind of scientific sense.
>At least your muscles don't feel quite as sore as they used to.
>You have a deja vu moment as you stumble towards the kitchen.
>Christ it's like having your ankles where your knees used to be.
>Reaching the kitchen, you get an almost giddy feeling in your chest at the thought of slaking your thirst and apatite. You pick up the pace, making straight for the fridge.
>That's when one of your new hooves slips against the hard tile floor, sending your face on its merry way to meet it up close.
>You flail your arms/forelegs wildly, and attempt to grab onto the side of the nearby counter with your right hand.
>You succeed in sending a painful jolt up through your arm as your hoof smashes into the granite counter top.
>Too late to brace yourself against the fall with your arms, you try to take most of the impact with your core by sticking out your gut while pulling your head as far away from the floor as possible.
>Wham.
>You let out a huffing grunt at you connect with the floor, the wind thoroughly knocked out of you.
>It sort of worked, but the momentum still caused you to smack your face against the floor pretty hard. It hurts, but not as much as you expected.
>You stay still for a bit, quietly attempting to work your diaphragm to no avail. You really hate it when this happens.
>Finally you are able to suck in a great gulp of air, wheezing as oxygen floods back into your system.
>A wet trickle on your face and coppery taste confirms that your nose is bleeding. Doesn't hurt nearly enough to be broken though, so that's a silver lining.
>You peer up at the looming shape of the fridge. The water dispenser is right there, only a few feet away.
>You think your mouth would water if you weren't so thirsty.
>You get your legs under you again, and take an odd kneeling squat position that wasn't possible until your anatomy was reworked.
>Placing a forehoof on either side of the dispenser, and stare at it. Using a hoof to push in the water lever isn't going to work, its too bulky for you to get your mouth in there to actually drink the water. You doubt you could hold a cup without practice either. You only see one quick solution.
>You stick your face into the slot where you would normally place a cup to be filled, and open your mouth, your jaw pressing against the lever that activates the dispenser.
>Your eyes nearly roll up in your head as a stream of cold, delicious water pours into your waiting mouth.
>You never knew it was possible to feel such ecstasy from drinking any beverage.
>You happily gulp down several mouthfuls, the excess fluid dripping down your chin and soaking into your only piece of clothing.
>Once you have a considerable amount of the life giving liquid sloshing in your belly, you push yourself away from the fridge, standing up properly and letting your forelegs fall to your sides.
>You promptly lose balance and put them back on the fridge to stable yourself.
>You begin to regain a bit of composure, and your instincts lower their voices a little now that one of your needs is satisfied.
>So, now that you aren't thinking in squiggly lines anymore, you realize what you just did was something you may of considered demeaning a few days ago.
>Then again, you basically just lost your hands. You should probably get used to doing things with your mouth.
>You wonder if you could get tips from double amputees.
>A large part of your brain is still horrified and revolted by your situation. You know this because every time your transformed limbs come into view, you get a small jolt of fear and dread about what is to come.
>But at the same time that part of you has been flipping out since you got up this morning, and is too exhausted to put up too much of a real fight. You almost find yourself thankful for that, even though you know you shouldn't be.
>No doubt your brain with recover eventually, and bring its A game for the next assault.
>For now though, you really just want to eat something.
>You work the edge of a hoof into the handle of the fridge, and pull it open.
>A blast of cold air makes your newly grown fur stand on end.
>Time to take inventory.
>Milk is probably still okay. That will likely be a good source of protein in the coming days.
>A lot of uncooked meats which you doubt you are even capable of digesting anymore. You speak a silent prayer as you bid farewell to bacon and sausage.
>Ridiculous amounts of condiments and thing that you put on other things. Unknown element, better stay basic for now.
>Assorted tasty drinks. Probably best to stay away from those until you know whats safe to consume.
>In the lower shelves you start finding the things your looking for. Boxed grapes and berries, vegetables and the like.
>Very carefully, you take out the food one by one and place them on the counter by holding the boxed foods with your hooves squeezing it on either side. It actually works rather well, and you manage to not drop anything.
>With a little hoofwork and assistance from your teeth, you get all the boxes and bags open.
>Now you just have to make a meal out of them, somehow. You could make a stir fry or something, though that might be somewhat difficult without hands.
>Still, you think you could probably make something pretty nice out of this if you tried hard enough.
>You could, but your going to just stuff your face instead.
>And with that, you dive in face first.
>Learning to eat with your mouth properly takes a bit of getting used to, but you pick it up pretty quickly, pulling grapes off the vine, sorting out the pits, and removing stems with your tongue. It helps that you were always pretty good at this stuff. You even figured out how to tie a knot in a cherry stem using only your tongue back when you were still in college. It isn't even that hard, its just most people wont even try.
>Those parties are probably the only thing you truly miss about college.
>You suppose you probably wont be attending any parties ever again. That's depressing.
>You're still too hungry to mope about that though.
>Apparently your taste buds haven't been unaffected by this ordeal. For once you're actually happy about one of these changes.
>Carrots are fucking awesome now. They were okay before, but you could seriously eat these things forever if you wanted now.
>Grapes are almost sickeningly sweet, delicious as hell, but you're not sure how many you could actually eat.
>You still don't want to touch uncooked broccoli. So nothing different there.
>Blueberries are different, but you cant really be sure how.
>You don't really feel any urge to eat peppers or onions anymore, so you decide to play it safe and avoid them. Shame really, you used to love them both.
>You really need to try more stuff sometime. You wonder how other kinds of fruit taste now.
>How are you even going to get more food? Going in public like this isn't going to go down well.
>That thought troubles you for a while, and you decide that you're done eating.
>All these veggies are great, but you really worry about how your going to replace meat entirely in your diet. Do ponies even need protein? Where do they usually get it? Grass?
>You look out the window into your backyard, and at the lawn out there.
>Yeah, that's never going to happen.
>You make a promise to yourself then and there, that you will never eat grass from your lawn or anyp0ny elses.
>Or whatever word you would normally use instead of 'anyp0ny'. Looks like that little mental tweak isn't going away.
>You're pretty sure ponies cant eat that kind of grass anyway.
>You decide to see if milk is still any good.
>Putting away your food is a little annoying, but if you're not going to be shopping anytime soon, its probably best to save everything.
>Wow, you really hope you don't starve to death. That would suck.
>Getting the milk from the top shelf is a bit troublesome, you cant really grip the handle, and the plastic its made of is too slippery and flexible for you to squeeze-hold it like you did the others.
>You decide to take a risk, and just slide it off the shelf, letting it fall.
>You just barely manage to catch it in the cradle of your arms, the milk within sloshing about precariously.
>You let the fridge door close, and begin formulating a strategy of drinking this thing.
>The way you're holding it as is seems like your best bet.
>You stoop over and remove the cap with your teeth, spitting it onto the counter. Then you press the jugs opening to your mouth, and lean your entire body backward.
>You splutter for a moment as too much flows down your throat, but you get down a few hearty gulps before you need to stop and cough.
>Just feeding yourself is a real ordeal now, and its only going to get more difficult from here. If things keep up, you wont be bipedal for much longer.
>That thought haunts you. Judging by the state of your body, your transformation is far from over. How much longer until your next episode?
>You take another swig of milk, dwelling over the days past events again. There was a lot to be concerned about. Where is Lizz? Why is all this happening? Will you still be you when this is over? If you don't get help soon, how are you even going to survive as a pony?
>But you don't really start to worry until you realize that you're kind of enjoying yourself right now.
What.
>Immediately your logical facilities leap into action, trying to find the origin of this alarming line of thought.
>How could you possibly be enjoying yourself? You just lost two of your favorite body parts! Those hands were your favorite way of interacting with the world, and now they're gone forever.
>You assume forever anyway. You're not quite optimistic enough to think this is temporary.
>So what exactly is fun about this?
>Is it just the break from monotony? You can understand that, learning to do mundane things a completely different way is always a little entertaining to you.
>You remember the time you put a blindfold on for a week just to see what it was like being blind.
>You had way too much time on your hands after you dropped out.
>You really hope its just the break from the usual boredom that you like.
>You don't really want to think about any of the other possibilities too hard.
>You realize you've been standing there cradling a jug of milk in your arms for a while now.
>You take another drink, noting the slight tang of your blood in the mix.
>Looking down, you see that your nose has stopped bleeding, but there is still blood caked on your chest. The nightshirt is definitely ruined.
>You set the milk down on the counter, sliding the cap over to the edge with a hoof.
>It takes you a couple minutes, but you manage to get the cap back on.
>With a bit of a struggle you get your bloodstained shirt off. If anyone sees you now, being nude will be the least of your problems. You could put some more on, but you get the feeling it's not going to fit for very long anyway.
>Next its time to put the milk back in the fridge.
>You pull the door open the same way you did before, then in a weird balancing act you keep the door from falling shut again with one of your hind legs while grabbing the jug with your front two.
>You're getting pretty good at this whole standing on your hooves thing.
>You put the jug on the lowest shelf this time. You probably wont be able to reach the higher ones soon.
>With that in mind, you move the essentials from the higher places. Good that you can still plan ahead.
>You close the fridge and lean your back against it, sighing.
>So, now you're fed, your thirst is quenched, and you begun planning about how you're going to live your life when you're no longer human.
>There really is nothing you can do to stop this, you have no idea where you would even start looking for help with it.
>Any hope you had about remaining human finally dies away, and depression begins greedily feeding on its rotting corpse.