This story is set in the Winter of 2006.

      "I must be sick," groaned Jackie, as she staggered out of the bathroom and back into the living room. She flopped down on the couch beside Jill. "Nothin' healthy could make anything smells that bad."

      "Is it contagious?" asked Jill, eyes widening and vulpine ears standing tall, as she edged away from her friend.

      "No, but it's hereditary," said Joyce, arms folded across her chest as she gave her daughter a stern look. "Her father does the same thing."

      "He does?" asked Jackie, perking up a bit.

      "What'd she do?" asked Jill.

      "After supper last night she gorged on candy. On top of Thanksgiving leftovers."

      "I ate the last of my Halloween stash," said Jackie, smiling a bit even though she still looked rather green. The smile faded and she sighed. "Now I'm sick on a Saturday."

      "I've seen Beaty binge on malted milk balls until he got heart palpitations," said Joyce, "but you're the only one of his kids who takes after him in that way."

      "Well, y'know, it was mostly gone, so I figured I might as well finish it," sighed Jackie. "Especially since all that sweet potato pie was gone. The candy was my dessert."

      "You didn't share!" Jill accused.

      "I'm sorry," said Jackie, with a hang-dog expression.

      Jill gave her a long, stern look. Then, she giggled, and hugged her friend, seven white-furred tails wagging.

      "Halloween was fun," sighed Jill, smiling, as she released Jackie and resumed her seat.

      "I know several supernaturals in the area who like Halloween," said Joyce, relenting and smiling as well. "Mainly because they can go around looking like their real selves without normal folks getting suspicious."

      "Wasn't there sumpthin' a few years after that Exposure, about someone getting arrested for not being human, only it turned out to be a costume?"

      "Yes, Jackie. I remember that story," said Joyce. "A young woman was getting ready for a local fantasy convention. She put on her costume, complete with prosthetics, then she and her boyfriend went out to a local fast food place. This was in California - Los Angeles, I think - and most of the patrons took her in stride. However, some idiot panicked and dialed 911. The police showed up and arrested her, as - get this - an illegal alien. Since she was Hispanic, and dressed as a character from Native American myth there was a huge fuss about this in the press. I think she even sued the local police department for violating her civil rights. Helped cut down on people accusing others of being supernaturals, at least in this country."

      "It would of been funnier if she'd been dressed as a space alien," said Jill, after a moment of thought.

      "Probably," agreed Joyce, smiling.

      "Well, it's too bad Jackie has an upset tummy," said Jill, innocently. "We were planning on going over to Lord Teleomier's for lunch. He's having all kinds of fey stuff, left over from a big dinner he hosted."

      "What time?" asked Jackie. If she'd been a wolf - or a werewolf in midform - her ears and tail would have been raised in eager anticipation.

      "As soon as Momma and Daddy are finished talking to your daddy," Jill said. "But, you're still sick, so I guess you'll have to miss it."

      "I'm feelin' a lot better!" said Jackie, sitting up. "Must have got the last of it out of my system on that last trip to th' john. Sure I can go!"

      "Ahem!" said Joyce, again in stern mother mode.

      "Aw, please!" said Jackie, with practiced, pleading eyes.

      "All right," sighed Joyce. "But if you make yourself sick again, don't come whining to me!"

      "Yay!" Jackie bounced off the couch and hugged her mother.

      "Oh, don't worry," said Jill, still innocently. "If she eats too much, I'll just tell Lord Teleomier to turn her into a pig."

      "Hey!"

      Joyce laughed, then shooed her daughter off to change clothes.

END

      This story is Copyright 2000 by Rodford Edmiston Smith. Anyone wishing to use this story for anything beyond personal enjoyment must obtain permission from the author, who can be reached at: stickmaker@usa.net. Permission is granted for this story to be posted in the Transformation Stories Archives.