Douglas awoke first. He was somewhat confused. Why had the potato cannon failed? What remained of their wonderous laboratory? Why was there a tuft of fur in his eye?
Douglas sat up. Only to find himself looking at yet more fur. What was going on? Whatever it was it could wait. What about Harold?
"Harold!?" he shouted. "HAROLD!?"
There wasn't a reply. He'd better go looking. He got up and wandered around for a few minutes, looking at the shattered wreakage of years of work. Then he sees a movement up ahead.
"Harold?"
He bends over the body. It's Harold. Yet it's not. He has that unmissable tuft of hair on his head, yet the rest of him is somehow... different.
"Harold?"
He starts to stir.
"Harold!"
A few slaps around the face and Harold is back on the ground.
"What on earth happened? The lab? Is it alright?"
Douglas just looked pitifully and shook his head.
"And what is with all that brown stuff all over you?"
"I dunno. Probably just mud or something. And you? What's all that brownish stuff on you? And what's with the tail?"
"I dunno either and I don't..."
Harold stopped mid-sentence. He did indeed have a protrusion at the back of his pants. He let down the strap and a mass of fur came flying out.
"What the..?"
"You know what, Harold?" I think our oversized spud gun just turned us into..."
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