Our Duet
A classy cougar anthro transformation, as delivered by a 'stripéd star of stage and screen' to 'our intrepid tresspasser' as she explores a run-down theater. Mature.
Oh darling, come in, come in. Do forgive the dust, it’s been ages, simply ages. Always a delight to meet an appreciator of the arts. What else could have called you to the Starlight Odeon? Don’t try to deny it, I see the sparkle in your eyes.
Sweep your light over red carpet and gilded balustrade. Pause a moment and admire the playbills. Look, past the curling edges and faded color, to the smiles and scowls, the lavish costumes, the storied names… ‘The magnificent Xandra, mistress of the mind, mesmerizes and mystifies weeky.’ ‘Don’t miss the irresistible comedy sensation – Dames and Molls, starring Myna Markova and Augusta Sullivan, live!’ ‘Exclusive, exceptional, exquisite! Musical performance by Josephine DeMille, stripéd star of stage and screen. Two nights, only at the Starlight Odeon.’
Why, who could that ravishing tigress be…? That little smile curling your lips, the flash of recognition—are we a fan of my work? Or just a fan of my looks, perhaps. Oh my, a camera? You’re not with the press, are you? I kid, I kid. You’re here looking for atmosphere, for beauty. Snap as many shots as you like. It’s a flattering illustration to be sure, though I’m far more stunning in person. You’ll see soon enough, darling, but the night is young and there’s much more to see.
This way, this way. Don’t mind the floorboards, you’d creak too if you were as old. The box office here, the coat check there. Imagine for a moment: conversation warm and bubbling beneath the sparkling chandelier, the quiet hum of oboe and string as the orchestra tunes like the softness of slumber ushering you into a dream. Close your eyes, and you can just feel the anticipation, in spite of how many years have passed.
And through these doors—give them a push, dear—right through these doors, there it is, where dreams come true: the Starlight’s stage. Do forgive the state of things; the ceiling plaster’s seen better days, no one’s swept the aisles in ages; the seats are only filled with memory now. But what memories they are! Can you feel them? They’re still here, still waiting for the curtain to rise, for the show to go on.
Shine your flashlight on the stage: a little spotlight of your own. All you’d need is for the curtains to part, for someone to walk out onto center stage and say, “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome…”
20 June, 2025
The Pitch
A pitch for an advertisement for Cougr-Lite cigarettes. They'll bring out the cougar in anyone. Mature.
The cloakroom doors swing shut behind him. It's the most important party of the year, and he's young, strapping, and anxious to the point of shivering. He watches the door as he draws a handkerchief from his pocket and drags it across his brow. His nervous breathing fills the room. He tugs at his tie for air.
"You look like you could use a light."
He didn't think there was anyone in the room. He turns, startled, then freezes as he drinks her in. She's a lioness with a heavy gaze and a black velvet dress. Her hips are ready to tear free from her clothes. The way she's perched on her heels, she's ready to pounce. With her hair tucked behind her ears, long and straight, she wouldn't even spoil her hairdo if she did. Some part of him enjoys how intimidating she is, all curves and confidence and sly experience.
"Oh, that's fine, miss," he says, searching for words while his heart hammers. "I've got my own matches."
Her lips glisten, a patronizing smile. "No, not ‘a light'. A Cougr-Lite." She pushes the cigarette pack into his hands. He looks down at the silhouetted cougar, the fine lettering, the silver trim. He raises his head to speak, but she's already at the door.
"Whenever I need a bit more pride," the lioness says, "I reach for a Cougr-Lite."
With a flick of her tail, she slides her magnificent body out of the cloakroom. It's just him and the box of Cougr-Lites. Beyond the door, there's the buzz of conversation. He needs to be out there, but without his courage, that door might as well be a wall.
15 June, 2016
Open Your Eyes: Age and You
Follow the instructions in this exercise to induce transformative effects in your classmates. Explicit.
Unit 12: Age
The common conception of age is that it's simply the number of years you've lived. After all, you've probably gotten used to filling out the forms for birthday approval each year. Unfortunately, this is a misconception. Age is no more determined by years-old than relationships are determined by physical or emotional attraction. (For the theory and equations regarding Billiac romances, please see Unit 15: Cardiology.)