Art by  Zapuccino.

This was an idea I had that I just instantly fell in love with and had to do sooner or later. Donkeys are often used for labor, so, what if my transformer hitched a plow to my wheelchair and put me to work plowing the field as I transformed. So I hope you enjoy this as much as I did.

***

Log 4

I’d been investigating some supposedly unusual farming methods here. I don’t have anything concrete but from the way people were talking, it doesn’t sound as normal as they seemed about it.

They talk about people going to work on farms and how it’s good for their health. They talk about the workout that jobs like plowing the field provides. About how challenging things can be. About how they can’t see people now. Sometimes it sounds like working on a farm is a euphemism for death.

Log 5

I’ve talked with a local farmer, who said I should just call him Farmer(?), and he’s agreed to let me work a day on his farm to find out what the deal was. It was hard to discuss and arrange this without letting on that I don’t know what’s going on when I should. I suspect he knows something’s wrong, or at least suspects. But he didn’t push it and perhaps suspects I’m just a sheltered city boy.

Log 6

I met Farmer this morning and he did a quick physical on me. It seemed excessive and was quite thorough but Farmer said it was necessary and apparently I’ll do anything for science. I need to talk to Chase about this when I get home and make sure he remembers to stop me if I ever start turning into Cave Johnson.

Then Farmer needed to give me an injection. Said it was a necessary for the job. I suppose it’s a mandatory vaccine. Fuck, I need to make sure I have that talk with Chase, letting a stranger give me an unknown injection to figure out a mystery.

My ears are feeling itchy and prickly. I’ll need to inspect them in a mirror one Farmer is back and agrees I’m not having a reaction to the vaccine.

Log 7

This is bad. My ears have changed and grown tall and furry. My feet are going numb too. And my face feels odd, like I’m breathing heavier out my nose.

Farmer says I’m fine and that this is the job I agreed to. He’s talking like if I do a good job he’ll keep me working on his farm even though we only agreed to a single day. I think I’ve agreed to work as a farm animal, donkey most likely. This would be a truly fascinating socio-economic agriculture system if I wasn’t at risk of getting trapped in it. I do wonder how it arose and will need to do further research at a later date.

Right now, I need to worry about myself. Farmer has placed me in front of a monitor screen. I think he’s trying to hypnotize me now. I can now confirm that as he’s turned on the spiral and audio track. I need to make sure my precautions are in place before—before—

Work

Obey

Animal

That was important—whatever I was just doing—I need to make sure—

Work

Obey

Oh, oh crap. I’m not sure if this is intentional but this seems to be stimulating me and my change in the groin. These pants aren’t stretchy enough for this, but I can at least unzip them into shorts. And—

Animal

Work

Obey

Log 8

I’m still changing. My face has pushed out partly into a muzzle. A stiff-bristled mane is working down my neck. My feet have turned into hooves and my legs are shifting configuration to accommodate. I think my hands are turning now, they’re thicker, stiffer, and the fingers are hard at the tips.

Farmer has already put me to work. He hitched a plow to my wheelchair and sent me to the field. It’s not easy even on wheels and the changes aren’t helping. I’m not sure what he’ll do once I can’t roll myself.

I need to get this field plowed.

It’s difficult to keep my head. I keep falling into the donkey mindset. But at least my evacuation plan is in place. I did check that, right? It’s hard to remember.

I need to check that right quick. Let me just—

This is hard work but it’s rewarding. It feels so good and gets me so excited to work hard for Farmer. If I do a good job, he’ll help me with my hardness.