When You Wish Upon a Star?

Lance stood on the rocky pillar pointing at the sky.  Every where he
pointed, a group of stars appeared.  Dancing a little to the music, he
filled the sky with stars and commanded comets to zoom by and crash into
each other.  The music changed just slightly, and the ocean around the
column swelled.  Waves crashed sounding like cymbals.

The alarm began its own noise.  Waking up suddenly, he turned off the
electronic beeping.  Another dream ended by the need to go to work.

Slowly getting out of bed and lumbering into the bathroom, he yawned and
tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes.  At least it was Friday.  He was
looking forward to the weekend.  It was the first weekend he had in a long
time where he didn't have anything to do.

Going into the closet in the bathroom, he picked out the clothes he was
going to wear for the day.  He headed back toward the bedroom but
stopped.  His reflection in the mirror caught his attention.  A
purple-spotted blue-green furry monster was looking back at him.  He
looked just like the monster from the "Monsters Inc." movie.

"Sulley?" he asked no one.  The reflection asked the same
question.  Looking down at himself, he saw that in fact he was
Sulley.  The clothes he was holding in his large hands were cast aside as
he examined his new body.

"I'm Sulley," he said.  "Somehow, I'm Sulley!"

After studying himself for about ten minutes, he decided that he needed to
call in sick to work.  He didn't want to go in the first place, and
spontaneously changing into a monster sounded like a good reason to not
go.

He hurried to the phone in the bedroom and dialed his boss.  The phone
receiver was too small to actually hold correctly, but he managed.

His boss answered.  "This is Mr. Smith."

"Hello. This is Lance.  I'm calling to tell you that I can't...."

"Lance," Mr. Smith interrupted.  "I hope you got that proposal almost
completed.  I need it by the end of the day."

"But, Mr. Smith...."

"I'm counting on you, Lance."

"But, Mr. Smith.  I'm sick. I look like...."

"I don't care if you look like a monster.  You're coming into work today
to finish that proposal."  With that, Mr. Smith hung up.

Sighing, Lance hung up the phone.  "Looks like I can't get out of going to
work."  Slumping, he made his way into the bathroom and brushed his new
larger teeth.  After making sure his fur looked presentable, he found a
bathrobe he could squeeze into and put it on as he headed into the garage.

After he opened the door, he stood there staring at the driver's
seat.  How was he going to sit in that seat?  Shrugging, he adjusted the
seat back as far as it could go and lowered it to the floor.  Taking a
deep breath, he crammed himself into the car.

"OUCH!"  He forgot about his tail.  Squirming to get it into a comfortable
position, the large furry monster closed the car door and pressed the
garage door opener with a claw. He backed out with ease and headed for
work.  Fortunately, driving was pretty much the same as before, except he
was just a little bit uncomfortable.

Pulling to a stop at the traffic light before getting onto the interstate,
he noticed the people in the cars around him giving him some odd looks.  A
little girl in the back seat of a minivan was laughing and pointing with
excitement.  The man in the pick-up truck was trying his best not to
stare.

When the light turned green, Lance turned and merged onto the
interstate.  A red Mustang zoomed passed him and changed lanes right in
front of him.  Then the Mustang suddenly slowed down to less than the
speed limit.

Lance slammed on his brakes.  No one was in front of the other car.  He
growled and felt a roar coming on.

With an implosion of blue fur and white feathers, Lance started yelling at
the other driver in an unintelligible rant.  Realizing what he was just
saying and that he couldn't really understand it, he stopped yelling.  He
was farther away from the steering wheel than when he got in.  His
blue-green fur was gone.  Now his body was covered in white feathers.  He
could see the top of an orange, flat beak poking out from his face.  He
adjusted the rear-view mirror and looked at himself.

"I'm Donald Duck?" he asked with the usual quacky voice.  "Just when I
started getting used to being Sulley, I change into Donald!"  He went off
on another tirade.

Arriving at work, he rubbed his throat after yelling at a lot of drivers
on the way.  His duck feet slapped against the asphalt and concrete as he
made his way to the backdoor to his office building.  The backdoor had an
ID card reader, so he could get in without the security guards questioning
him.  He was not in the mood, or the form, to be interrogated.

Getting to work earlier than most of his coworkers had become the normal
routine for him.  That morning was no different.  He didn't run into
anyone in the halls, and no one asked whose shoes were making those weird
slapping sounds on the tile floor.

Turning a corner, he got onto the carpeted hallway between the
cubicles.  His duck feet still made a slapping sound, but not as loud as
on the tile.  Almost to his cube, he realized that he wasn't waddling or
making the slapping sounds anymore.  He was hopping.

He was still short.  Shorter than he was as Donald.  Looking down, he saw
big kangaroo feet.  They were actually probably small for kangaroo feet,
but they were big compared to how short he was.  He quickly hopped into
his cube and into his chair.  Standing in the chair and leaning forward on
his tiptoes, he tried to get a good look at himself in the reflection in
the blank monitor screen.

"Yeah.  I'm a kangaroo," he said turning his head slightly to see more of
his face.  "Roo from the looks of it.  At least it wasn't Kanga."

He snickered slightly and plopped into his chair.  "Ouch!" he yelled as he
forgot about his tail again.

Footsteps were coming closer.  "Lance, you ok?"

It was his boss.  He must have heard him yell.

"I'm fine."

The footsteps were still coming.  "Ah, good.  I was going to bring you
these...."  Mr. Smith stopped at the entrance to the cubicle and stared at
the little kangaroo.

Lance sat there for about two minutes waiting to hear the rest of
Mr. Smith's sentence.  He then gave up.

"Mr. Smith, I said that I'm fine.  I may look like a Winnie the Pooh
character right now, but you should have seen me this morning."

Mr. Smith blinked and nodded.  "Uh... yeah.  Anyway, here is a big project
that may be in the works. I want you to read through this and make a
timeline.  You can start on it after you're done with the proposal that's
due today."  He sat the papers on the desk.  "I'm sure you'll hop to
it."  With that, he turned and walked away laughing hysterically.

Lance smirked and switched on his computer.  While it was booting up, he
leaped out of his chair and hopped around his cubicle to get a feel for
the little kangaroo body.  It was pretty neat.

"Lance?"

Lance halted and fell forward.  Steve was standing at the cubicle
entrance.

Getting up and dusting himself off, Lance weakly smiled.  "Hi, Steve."

"Uh.... Why do you look like....?"  He paused again.  "Now that's
odd.  You looked like a little kangaroo a second ago.  Now you look like
that thing from that movie."

"Oh, you're a big help," Lance said looking down.  He still had big feet,
but not as big as before.  Plus, he seemed even shorter.  He looked at his
hands and twisted around to see his tail.  "Timon?"

"Yeah!  Timon!" Steve said.  "That's who you look like."

Lance didn't feel the change at all.  He was just suddenly Timon from "The
Lion King."  He felt of his ears and nose.  That's who he definitely
was.  "What's going on here!?" he yelled.  Once he said it, he realized he
sounded exactly like Timon.

Steve looked shocked.  "Don't ask me."  He left rather quickly.

With a short leap, Lance climbed into his chair.  He then looked at the
huge desk and keyboard in front of him.  There was no way he could do work
as Timon.  Everything on his desk was enormous.

Then an idea popped into his little meerkat brain.  The hardware
department may have something he could use.  He jumped off his chair and
headed that way down the mile-long corridor.

Halfway down the hall, he noticed that he was getting taller.  He was even
getting taller than he was as a human the day before.

Looking down, he noticed that he even was wearing some toonish looking
clothes.  "Gorsh.  Where did these come from?"  He covered his mouth with
his hands in surprise.  Slowly, he pulled his hands away and saw he was
wearing the typical three-fingered white gloves.  Also, a huge muzzle and
nose were poking out in front of him.  Feeling of his mouth, he found what
he hoped he wouldn't.  Two bucked teeth.

"I'm Goofy!"

He was going to just have to tell Mr. Smith that he was sick and had to go
home.  There was no reason to be at work when something this strange was
happening.  He clumsily ran down the hall toward Mr. Smith's office.  As
he ran, he could almost hear a voice from nowhere.

"Here we have the track expert.  See how he elegantly places one foot in
front of the other?" the voice said.

The big Goof looked around to see who was talking.  As soon as he took his
mind off running, he tripped.  He skidded across the tiles and right into
the stairwell.

"Waa Haaaa Hooooieee!" he yelled tumbling down all four flights of
stairs.  When he reached the bottom, he saw stars spinning around his
head, and then he promptly passed out.

When he started coming too, he felt pretty stiff.  His arms and legs would
not move.  Slowly, he opened his eyes.  The large Goofy muzzle was still
in front of him, but the office building was not.  He was in a hospital
room.

Looking around, he saw that his arms, legs, and most of his body were in a
cast.  There were some flowers sitting on a table across the room.  A
nurse walked into the doorway and stopped when she noticed him.

"He's coming to!" the nurse said looking behind her.  She rushed to the
bed.  "Mr. Holloway.  I want you to remain calm."

He tried to work his sore jaw. "What...?"

Another woman walked in hurriedly.  The nurse backed away for the second
woman to get next to the bed.

"Mr. Holloway, I'm Dr. Jones," the woman said.  "I want you to remain
calm."

He nodded stiffly.  "Doc, what...?"

The doctor didn't let him finish.  "I want you to know that we were able
to stabilize you."

He sighed with relief.  "That's great.  I was tired of....  Wait.  I still
have Goofy's nose.  And his voice!"

The doctor nodded.  "Yes.  Unfortunately, you were stabilized as
Goofy.  This may be a temporary effect though.  We don't know yet."

She paused for a reaction.

"We want you to know that we are still working on a cure."

He nodded.  "What is it, Doc?  What do I have?"

The doctor looked solemn.  "You had a bad case of Disney spells."