As you finish your useless attempts at removing the garish pink fur outfit from your body, you hear one final knock at the door followed by a frustrated grunt, and footsteps soon fading down the hallway. You glance around the barren room, the thick volume of the wig fluffs around between the hat and the collar, swishing softly against your face as you search for any hint of what happened last night. There’s nothing out of place in the hotel room, except for a crumpled note on the bed.
You carefully step toward the bed in a swishing, teetering fashion, every part of your outfit seems to be rustling and bouncing around. It’s difficult at first, but after a couple steps you get a feeling for your new center of gravity - the big hat and massive breasts are still threatening to send you tumbling to the floor, but not as much as they were a moment ago. You reach out with your manicured hand, complete with long sparkling nails surrounded by a thick cuff of fur sealed against your wrist, and pick the note up from the bed.
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