He comes home early in the morning.
“Where were you last night?” She asks.
“Work.” He collapses on the sofa.
“You reek of alcohol.”
“Client meeting. You know how it is.”
“Next time tell me if you’re going out with your whore so I don’t waste time making dinner for you.”
He tries to apologize but she runs into the bedroom and locks the door. She starts crying and prays for a better husband. She hates living in this new country with her husband. She misses her home, her parents, her friends, and all the adorable stuffed animals in her bedroom.
Her husband knocks on the bedroom door for five straight minutes, but she won’t open it. He gives up and goes back to the living room and turns on the TV. Suddenly he starts to feel nauseous. It’s probably the alcohol, he just needs some rest. But then he notices a little more hair on his arms than usual.
A few minutes later his clothes start feeling very tight. He takes off his clothes and cries out in alarm. There is long hair on his legs, stomach, chest. His back starts feeling itchy and he feels hair over there too.
What the hell is going on? He rushes to the bathroom and sees hair all over his face! And his face looks different… it looks like… a bear?
A few minutes later he screams in agony as the transformation is complete. His wife emerges from her bedroom and gasps in shock.
Her former husband is now a giant cuddly teddy bear. Looks like her prayers were answered.
The next story is related to the previous one but both are separate standalone stories.
I’ve been stuck in the body of a giant teddy bear for two years. My wife told the police I went missing after she did this to me. Or should I say my ex-wife since she remarried two months after my ‘disappearance’.
Yes, I cheated on her but how the hell is this a reasonable punishment? I never wanted to marry her in the first place. She never wanted to marry me. Our parents forced us and neither of us had the backbone to say no. And now I don’t even have a physical backbone because I’m a goddamn teddy bear.
Oh, and you’ll never believe who she married. Her best friend. That’s right, the guy she had friend-zoned since her school days. The guy who listened to her complain about being married to someone like me. Her parents weren’t very happy with the decision because he isn’t rich.
Me being a giant teddy was very entertaining for her at first. She’d play with me and hug me while sleeping at night. Then she started getting sloppy. She’d drop food crumbs on me while eating. Once she even spilt piping hot coffee on me, which I’m pretty sure was on purpose. But worst of all she’d let her bratty nephews play with me and they would hit me and throw me around all day.
Sometimes I wish I had lost my consciousness along with my body. Maybe it would’ve been better if I’d died during the transformation. But maybe there’s hope. Maybe I can undo this transformation and get my life back. I haven’t figured out how to talk yet but slowly I have gained control over my furry limbs.
It wasn’t easy, for the first several months I was completely paralyzed. It took a few more months to even learn how to move my paw, several more to learn how to walk and move around, and much longer to learn how to grab objects. Of course, I couldn’t do this in plain view, so I mastered my body by night.
And now I have snuck out of my ex-wife’s bedroom to go to the dining room. I take a seat on the dining table. I can’t use a laptop, my paws are too big. I can’t hold a normal pen either, so I am using one of those giant novelty pencils to write a letter to a trusted friend. I want him to know what’s happened to me, maybe he can help.
I stare at the blank sheet of paper. Will my friend even believe what I am about to write? It won’t even be in my handwriting because I am not human anymore. It’s such a ridiculous story. How the hell do I convincingly explain what has happened to me? Suddenly I slip off the chair and fall down. I guess I’m not completely used to my stuffed body.
And then I hear a dog growl. Oh no. Slipping off the chair made too much noise. My ex-wife bought a dog last week. The dog is moving closer to me. He looks angry. He growls a little louder. I hold the giant pencil like a sword, ready to defend myself, but my paws are shaking.
Calm down doggy. Calm down. But the dog starts barking. Oh crap. Why tonight of all nights? The dog pounces on me! I try to swing the pencil at him, but I am too slow, the dog bites my arm off and is using its claws and teeth to destroy my furry body.
Now I am completely in pieces. Maybe I can be sewn back together? Assuming my ex-wife doesn’t throw me out. I certainly wouldn’t keep a teddy that walks around at night.
Will I ever be normal again?
The next morning my ex finds me in the living room. She immediately figures out what happened. She pets her dog lovingly and throws my remains in the fireplace. I’m dying but at least I won’t have to be a teddy bear anymore.