Striped Success

A TransCo subsidiary motel chain turns a young woman into a confident business-skunk. Explicit. A young woman staying at a hotel before a business conference turns into a confident, professional skunk-girl. Explicit.

It was the end of her New York-to-Chicago car drive. Tori just wanted to fall asleep, but every hotel near the conference center was booked up tight, and the closest hotel she'd been able to find on short notice was the one-star Come On Inn. Carrying her suit for the conference tomorrow and her backpack, she stepped into her room. It smelled like cigarette smoke. They didn't have any non-smoking; she'd asked.

'Welcome to the Come On Inn, a TransCo subsidiary!' a typo-laden note on the bedside stand began. Tori sat on the edge of the bed and read the note between groggy blinks. It offered her to 'Please make use of the complementary hair freshener.' She looked back at the stand, where a small, blank, white box sat. She popped it open, tore open the plastic wrap, and pulled out the cone-shaped air freshener.

It gave off a pleasantly clean scent, cool and almost floral. It was refreshing after the dry, tarry smell of cigarette smoke. She set the freshener down by the floor AC unit and turned the fan up to high. The fresh smell rolled through the air, starting to permeate the room. While the room freshened itself up, she grabbed the bag with her toothpaste and toothbrush from her pack.

Tori watched herself in the bathroom mirror as she brushed her teeth. She looked worn down and strung out from the car ride. Her face was bleary, eyes baggy, brown hair mussed from being pushed up against the headrest for hours on end. In her casual clothes, she looked even more young and scrawny than usual. And here she was, only a junior associate, about to represent her whole company tomorrow.

Something about her face didn't seem entirely right. Tori squinted into the mirror and pressed a finger to her nose. The skin on the tip was darkened and purple. The whole thing seemed oddly swollen, the tip broader and more bulbous. She sniffed, but didn't smell anything out of place. She tapped on the tip of her nose, then squeezed both fingers around it, trying to see if it was tender, but no. She tried rubbing at the bottom, but the color didn't come off. She twisted her mouth to one side, then the other. It looked kind of like a little snout.

Pink and Black

A cheerleader and a goth become exaggerated versions of each other through a weird Facebook quiz. Mature.

'Find out what your Friends think about You! Stephanie Madison took this Quiz!'

Amber didn't use Facebook much, but she had an account because everyone did. Her phone had pinged when she got the email notification, which had taken her to Facebook, where she saw the ad for some quiz app. Stephanie, huh?

Amber wiggled her black-nailed thumb over the link, thinking about whether to do it. It couldn't hurt, and to be honest, she was interested in finding out what Stephanie thought of her these days. Back in middle school, they had been tighter friends, but it seemed so much easier to be friends when they were young. They had hung out, played in the yard, done sleepovers; typical little kid friend stuff.

Once they'd gotten to high school, Amber had followed her interests into alternative music, cheesy vampire novels, and finding the darkest clothes her mom would buy her. Stephanie had gone off and gotten all athletic, and by now, in her senior year, she was on the cheerleading team. So it made sense that they didn't hang out a whole lot, but they had been good friends before, so...

Ah, what the hell. Might as well give it a shot.

---

'Find out what your Friends think about You! Amber Lee Knowles took this Quiz!'

Stephanie had assumed the ring from her phone was another update from one of her group chats, but instead it was a message from Amber. Amber? Wow, she had barely even talked to her in years. Maybe she wanted to reconnect during their last year of school together?

The mirror on Stephanie's closet door caught her reflection as she glanced up and fixed her hair, then leaned on her elbows and took a look at Amber's profile. Stephanie herself was pretty close to your standard-issue, small-town cheerleader, with a figure she kept slim through daily gymnastics and cardio, and naturally wheat-blonde hair. There on the screen was Amber's profile photo, trying to look dark and mysterious, with heavy eyeliner, and her straight black hair draped over one eye. Amber's hair was natural, too—she was half-Korean on her mother's side.

Sure, they did look different, but Stephanie did her best to not let looks influence who she was friends with. She and Amber hadn't talked much, but she wasn't going to shun an old friend just cause she was a bit goth now.

Stephanie hit the button and started answering the questions the quiz asked about Amber.

Mer-Made

Poor spellcasting turns both Stella and her boyfriend into mermaids. Explicit.

Michael opened the door to his Santa Monica apartment and found candles strewn across the counters and tables. Curled runes written on sheets of printer paper were stuck to the wall with masking tape.

'Not again,' he thought.

"Stella? Are you casting a spell?" he called. He dropped his messenger bag next to the door and took a few steps toward the hall. Stella stepped out of her studio, with two more sheets of paper in her hands and a roll of masking tape around her wrist.

"It's almost ready," she said, flashing her boyfriend a smile as she passed by. With a creak of tape, she tore off enough to stick up the last two runes on either side of their TV. Stella took a seat on the sofa, then looked up at Michael expectantly.

Michael walked up behind the couch and leaned on its back. "I thought you said after the vacuum cleaner nonsense you weren't going to cast spells."

She rolled her head back, so that she was looking at him upside-down. "I've been practicing. Just small stuff, but I haven't messed up again. This isn't even a dangerous spell, it's not going to go...'vacuum cleaner'." She gave him an upside-down smile and reached up to scratch his neatly-trimmed blonde beard. "Besides, this is a spell for you."

This Is An Ad For Milk

An ad for milk. General.

Hello. This is an ad for milk.

Milk is not dangerous. You may already have milk in your house, or inside your body. If this is the case, there is no reason to worry. Remain calm and do not induce vomiting. Just enjoy milk.

There are many rumors about milk. Some 'doctors' claim that people with certain conditions should not drink milk. These doctors are lying. Everyone should drink milk. Milk provides nutrients essential to growing bones, such as femurs, patellae and horns. You do not want your femurs, patellae, or horns to be small, do you? Then drink milk.

Think of a cow. Now, answer the following question out loud, as fast as you can: What do cows drink? If you said 'milk', that is incorrect. Cows do not drink milk Cows drink water. The idea that drinking milk will make you into a cow is silly. Do not be alarmed. You are safe. Milk is safe. Please drink more milk.

Milk can come in flavors. If you choose to not drink regular milk, consider flavored milk. Strawberry-flavored milk has never been proven to affect results on intelligence tests, and is legally safe for human consumption. Chocolate-flavored milk can add a rich luster to your coat. You want your coat to be lustrous, don't you? Then drink chocolate-flavored milk. Vanilla-flavored milk is useless and despised.

Stacked

The library patrons seem a bit bubbly today, but then so does the librarian on staff. Mature.

Alice's strangest day as a library clerk started when Tiffany walked in. Alice knew her from school, but they had never really met. Tiffany was popular and pretty and blonde—most of the things that Alice wasn't. Seeing Tiffany brought back all of Alice's high-school inadequacies. Alice was mousey and wore glasses and couldn't get her dark brown hair to do anything other than frizz, no matter how much she spent on shampoo.

Alice stowed the fantasy novel she'd been reading behind the desk. She looked up at Tiffany and found herself staring at Tiffany's hair. She had dyed it black, like The-Raven-is-my-favorite-poem black. Alice wasn't one to judge, but Tiffany was the last girl she'd expect to dye her hair. There was a little furrow in Tiffany's brow and she glanced around uncertainly.

"Hi, welcome to the library," Alice said. She seized the opportunity to be the confident one for once. "Anything I can help you find?"

"Um, yeah," Tiffany said. Her voice hid in the back of her mouth. "Do you have books about…ghosts and stuff?"

B-Day

Your sorceress girlfriend has turned you into a girl and left you your choice of gifts. A short text adventure CYOA. Mature.

Click here to play the game. (Runs in-browser.)