How to Deal with Unexpected Events

In the beginning, the internet was created.
This opened up many, many possibilities; the greater part of those possibilities being related to pornographic themes and cats, which in some cases overlapped.
The creation of the internet has been widely regarded as a bad move and to this day is the instigator of conflict, much like everything else that creation had spawned.

Much like the plant on his windowsill, Anthony felt indifferent about creation.
Standing about six feet tall and sitting about four feet tall, he stared at his screen, reading a small text.
"ur a faggot" The text said, to which Anthony frowned.
Sitting idly he tried to think of a rebuttal.
"no u" He typed, with a smug smile on his face.
With the feeling of a job well done, he closed the browser and was greeted by his desktop wallpaper.
Not a remarkable wallpaper by any means, but it fulfilled its purpose
"Purplesmart" Anthony thought, looking at the wallpaper that portrayed a purple cartoon unicorn with an anatomically correct set of mare genitals, and shut down his computer.
Anthony pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his temples; he had been on the internet for eight hours and was rewarded with a light headache and bone-dry mouth.
This is how he spent most of his spare time, aside from masturbating. The two seemed to go pretty well together, he thought.

He glanced over at the clock, wondering how long he's been wasting time on his computer, but then remembered that he forgot to replace the batteries six months ago.
"I really need to get a watch." he mumbled to himself as he got up from his chair and walked out of his bedroom.
The door across his room muffled the sound of a children's cartoon show that he was a fan of for all the wrong reasons.
The occupant of the room behind the door was Anthony's 5-year-old sister Lillian, who genuinely enjoyed the show because of the moral lessons it offered, the upbeat songs it featured
but mostly because of the "pretty colored 'horsies'" that starred in it.

Anthony walked down the stairs, softly humming "Grand old rag" to himself, looking around blearily.
The word 'misstep' suddenly wandered through his mind in search of something to connect with, which it then did.
The next ten seconds were a blur as Anthony fell down the stairs and hit the floor with an unremarkable thud.
Muttering to himself, he shook his head and slowly got up again.
He really wished the pain in his head would've ended then and there, but it gladly overstayed its welcome in the form of a small bump on his cranium.

Annoyed, Anthony stepped into the kitchen and filled a glass with water.
He stared at the glass, momentarily unsure what he filled it with water for in the first place. He opened the cabinet to his right and took an aspirin from it.
"Oh, right." he thought, swallowing the painkiller, followed by a swig of water.
He suddenly felt uncomfortable, and he wasn't sure whether this was because of the bump on his head or because his shoes seemed too right around his feet.
In fact, his entire body was aching.

Anthony opened up the cabinet again, and took out the little package of pills.
“Purge: a MAN's laxative” the text read, which upset him.
He then read the “instruction & dosage” section on the back which said “. For best results, hold in the suppository for a fifteen to twenty minutes. Avoid sneezing. Not recommended for children and pregnant women.”
He didn't know what to expect now, so he just drank the rest of his water, put the laxatives back in the cabinet and walked over to the living room to sit and wait it out.
He plumped down on the couch and just sat there for a few seconds before turning on the television.
The black screen quickly changed to a documentary about the many uses for remotes.

Anthony scratched his stomach but quickly pulled his hand away.
He cocked his head and slowly lifted up his sweater and found two small teats located on his lower abdomen.
“The f-” is all he managed to say before falling to his side, feeling dizzy.
He looked at his hands and noticed that they more or less exactly failed to look like hands, which worried him.
Luckily he didn't have to worry about it much longer because his feet had now begun to take the form of hooves as well.

He felt paralyzed and couldn't move much more than his head and neck.
By this point, Anthony was sure that he was dying and these were his final moments.
Until he felt a warm, glowing feeling in his pants.
Anthony cringed at the thought of crapping his pants, which he soon found out didn't happen.

He looked at his legs, which were slowly shrinking, and started breathing erratically.
The warm glowing sensation still persisted.
He tried to move up, failed, and instead rolled off the couch.
His pants had slid down.
Regaining control of his body, he noticed it felt a bit smaller.
His felt his upper arm shrinking and his chest bulge.

A sudden feeling of lucidity struck him.
"I'm dreaming." he thought, his breathing slowly going back to a regular pace.
He tried pinching himself, but then remembered his hands had become hooves.
As he awkwardly stood up his legs, he noticed that a soft tissue on the bottom of his hooves made contact
with the floor, and felt surprisingly realistic for a dream.
He panicked; he was slowly changing into a hoofed animal.
Anthony started breathing erratically again, then stopped.
He cocked his head again "That's not what I s-" he stopped abruptly.
His voice sounded a bit shriller than usual, and entirely different in any other aspect.
Strangely, it reminded him of his desktop wallpaper.

As one and one made two, Anthony was struck with a sudden realization and quickly turned his head to his back.
His tailbone had grown out and was beginning to tear its way through his boxers.
He was suddenly struck with a feeling of loss, which was odd because these weren't even his favorite pair of boxers.
The warm sensation returned, but now with a sharp, throbbing pain. He looked in the mirror behind him, which reflected his now bare backside.
He didn't take long to figure out where this feeling of loss came from and watched as his testicles retracted into his taint, which in turn formed a thick, heavily pigmented labia.
His penis followed soon after and hid itself between the meaty flaps, occasionally popping out as her vagina contracted and relaxed involuntarily.
The small teats on her lower abdomen had begun to grow fuller and heavier.

A thin layer of light purple fur had started to cover Anthony's body, but the clenching feeling of her now winking slit had made it almost unnoticeable.
Then a painful throbbing in her forehead caught her attention.
Something was growing out of it.
Anthony felt as if her entire brain was burning, and screaming for dear life.
She squinted her eyes and gritted her teeth as a horn slowly, painfully began to form itself on her forehead.
Her ears had grown pointier and moved upwards, but this was completely lost on Anthony as the feeling of thousands of tiny pinpricks rushed through her horn and then her entire head, which she then shook much like one would to shake off thousands of tiny spiders.
The only thing going through Anthony's head at this moment was "I don't want to be the little mare." which he repeated in his head as a sort of mantra.
Rubbing salt on the wound, her hair started to grow out and took on the same dark blue color that the hairs on her now fully grown tail had taken a liking to, along with the pink and light purple streak running through it.
Her mouth and nose grew outwards into a small, soft muzzle.
She trembled on her hooves, partly because of she was trying to cope with what had just happened, but also because her belly had started to feel like it was rumbling and preparing to dispose something.

"Anthony?"
A shrill, soft voice asked from upstairs, paired with small footsteps
Anthony's ears perked up.