Kiyone sighed and wiped her forehead again. She was out of uniform, she knew. A white tank top and cut-off cotton shorts were hardly standard Galaxy Police issue, but it was all she could stand to wear with dead, hot summer air attempting to strangle the life out of her. It was hot! How could a temperate planet like this get so blasted hot?! It was like she was reliving that horrible week on Arrakis. At least this time there was no sand and no strange-eyed weirdoes going on about killing words. Heh, killing words. She could think of a few… In fact, time to use one now. "Damnit, Mihoshi!"

Of course, Mihoshi didn't answer. After breaking the air conditioner on their apartment here on Earth, the stupid blond-haired, over-tanned, bimboish excuse for a Galaxy Police Detective had gone off to 'look for help.' Argh, just thinking about it made Kiyone's blood boil-- not that the heat wasn't doing that already.

Perhaps getting something cold to drink would help. Kiyone managed to unstick herself from the chair-- and here she'd thought a leather recliner would be a nice addition to the apartment -- and staggered into the kitchen. The cool linoleum under her bare feet was a relief, but hardly compensation for having to move all the way to the refrigerator. She just felt so lethargic in this heat.

The blast of cold air from the opening refrigerator door dried the sweat and raised goosebumps on Kiyone's arms. Mmm, that felt good. That was almost worth getting out of her chair in and of itself. Still, the perspiring detective resisted the urge to stand in front of the open refrigerator all day, contenting herself with several moments of bliss as she rifled through the shelves and pulled out an icy cold can of soda from the back. She had to be a responsible Galaxy Police Detective, even if her superiors would have had an aneurism at her current state of dress.

Kiyone didn't take a good look at what she'd picked out. Flavor didn't matter. Calories didn't matter. Even alcoholic content if, stars above, this was one of Mihoshi's awful Japanese beers, didn't matter. All that mattered was the temperature. It was cold, so she was going to drink it. The detective opened the can and downed the entirety of its green, fizzy contents in a single long gulp.

With no one around, Kiyone didn't even bother to stifle the huge and unladylike belch that punctuated her refreshing drink. Ah, that felt fantastic! Besides being frigid as a cool mountain stream-- and that was the important part-- the soda had actually been pretty good. It was sweet and slightly salty with an unidentifiable but nonetheless pleasant aftertaste. Hmm, she'd have to make a note to get some more of these. What brand was it?

'Slurm,' eh? Hmm… Wait. Oh no… The brand name seemed innocent and forgettable enough, but well-honed investigator's instincts drew Kiyone's eye to a few small and horribly threatening lines of text a little to the side of the big, happy logo. Kiyone's heart sank into her stomach-- not the safest place to be at the moment. 'Bottled by Washu Industries LTD.' There was a sure sign of trouble. Feeling the blood draining from her face, she read on. "…For those sluggish summer days?"

Okay, Kiyone, she told herself. Don't panic. Just call Washu and make sure that you didn't just drink something weird that she was trying to test on Kiyone… or maybe save time and just call poison control right away… Trying to be alert for any bizarre side effects from the mad scientist's concoction, the detective started back to the living room, the phone, and hopefully, salvation from some horrible fate.

Kiyone wiped her brow. Either the heat was reasserting itself after her temporary escape from its clutches or she'd just broken out in a cold sweat. Either way, yuck. She shook the sweat from her hand-- then shook her hand again, harder this time. The clear droplets stretched and flowed into long strings, parting company from her hand only with the greatest reluctance. They splattered against walls and floor with unpleasant splats. "What the..? Ewwww!"

Forcing herself not to start dry-heaving in disgust, Kiyone wiped more of the strangely viscous sweat from her brow. It was starting to slick down her hair now, she could feel it. Ugh. That's it, no more delays. She had to call poison control, now. The detective took one purposeful step forward-- and slipped on the slimy patch that she'd just created on the linoleum.

The incautious step sent Kiyone tumbling head over heels, landing face-first on the living room carpet. She slid a few feet, bumping into her leather recliner. After a moment, she pushed herself to her knees.

Kiyone blinked and checked her body for injuries. That should have hurt. A lot. A fall like that should have at least dislocated or bruised something, yet she felt fine. Just… tingly. And-- she grimaced as she watched more clear fluid drip down one arm-- slimy. It was an odd sensation, but it might explain a few things.

For instance, sliminess might explain why she hadn't gotten a friction rash when she slid across the carpet. More importantly, it might explain why her shorts and underwear-- both sopping wet with the mysterious clear mucus-- had been left behind when she hit the floor and were now around her ankles. Was that even possible? Obviously it was, but she could hardly believe her eyes.

Getting to the phone was more important than worrying about a little thing like suddenly-sliding-off clothing or being naked from the waist down. Kiyone growled in frustration and tried to pull herself up using her chair as a ladder. Her hands slipped and slid across its leather surface as she struggled upwards.

Another reason for Kiyone's lack of injury soon became apparent-- to have a broken bone or a wrenched joint, one has to have bones and joints. She stared back at her legs, trying to will them into obeying her. They did, after a fashion-- but while they moved, they moved sinuously like a sort of bifurcated snake tail. Her knees-- in fact her lower body's entire skeletal structure-- seemed to be on holiday. That couldn't be right… what--

Kiyone nearly screamed as, with a wet slurping noise, her increasingly discolored legs started to fuse together. Well-toned, curvy legs swelled and twitched, merging into a single muscular mass. The horrified detective's petite toes-- one of her best points, in her opinion-- lost cohesion and flowed together into an indistinct whole. Worse, she quickly lost her other best point as her firm, shapely ass cheeks inflated rapidly and fused together. In what seemed like seconds, Kiyone's lower body had become one long, tapering muscle.

It took Kiyone a moment to realize how, exactly, she'd had a front row seat to things happening to the back of her body. She followed the spreading tide of unhealthy mottled brown colors as they climbed up what had been her hips. The past tense was obviously appropriate, because while the general feminine curves remained, she was now turned 180 degrees to face the back of her own body. She turned back, trying to suppress gibbering terror at her metamorphosis.

Phone. NOW! Kiyone struggled towards the electronic lifeline, willing her body into motion. Strangely, it obeyed. She found herself sliding up and over the chair on her body's extended 'belly' and a thin coating of mucus. Unfortunately for the straining detective, her rate of progress was less than ideal. Slowly-proceeding changes practically raced compared to her slow climb towards the telephone. "Nooo… come on, damnit!"

Kiyone's stomach gurgled and she felt her abdomen start to swell, giving her a slight gut and sider hips in addition to a horrid, spotty brown complexion. Soon-- relatively speaking-- the transformation climbed higher and Kiyone felt her breasts begin to tingle and push themselves insistently against her soaked and dripping shirt. Her modest bust inflated with almost gratifying speed, pushing sensitive nipples against tight-woven cotton until they hardened into proud, swollen points. Well, at least there was that.

Gasping with the effort of such rapid movement (such as it was), Kiyone felt her hand brush against the phone. The skin of her fingers was just turning brown as she fumbled for the receiver-- and clumsily knocked over the table. The detective snatched futilely at the phone, but it was too late. She only managed to grab the base station as the end table and handset tumbled to the floor.

Well… well… shit. Looking at her her hand in growing resignation, Kiyone dropped the useless base station. Adding insult to injury, it descended slowly to the floor on a long string of her slime. It couldn't get any more humiliating than this.

Kiyone realized the error of that thought rather quickly for a slug-girl. With a wet sound, her headband slid out of the way as two bulging, fleshy appendages sprouted from her scalp and waved curiously in the air. Feelers. She had… feelers on her head.

The detective sighed and looked down at the long, muscular body she had gotten courtesy of Washu's insane tinkering. Kiyone slid down a bit, taking a 'seat' in her chair, and sagged backward onto her thick tail. Well, her life had been a long series of disasters since she'd been saddled with Mihoshi. Maybe this crowning event in her downhill slide would be the last. "At least… At least I finally have larger breasts than that blond bimbo…"

As if on cue, Mihoshi burst into the room. The door crashed open and in rushed the aforementioned bimbo, bouncing with energy. "Ohmygosh, Kiyone, you'll never guess what happened to me today!"

Kiyone's keen investigative skills allowed her to deduce quickly that something was wrong. With long perky ears and a soft white coat of fur, Mihoshi was clearly a rabbit. A big, fluffy, sexy rabbit-girl with… with breasts nearly the size of her head. So, that's how it was, eh reality? Kiyone's flexible body sagged in her slime-soaked chair. She started to laugh.

Mihoshi looked concerned. Her long ears shifted in confusion as she cocked her head to one side. "Kiyone..? Why are you laughing?"

The slug girl couldn't help it. She laughed harder. "W-washu sure got it right, hahahaha…"

"Kiyone..? Washu got what?"

"'F-for the long, sluggish-sh-sh days, hahaha…" Kiyone's laughter was quickly taking on a hysterical edge.

Mihoshi smiled awkwardly, still unsure what her partner was going on about-- not that this was a different experience from her usual day. "Oh, I get it… Well not really I guess but I'll laugh anyway, hahaha… hahahah! …Kiyone, why are you crying? Kiyoneeeeeee?"