FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Jasmine held on to the letter for a while, reading it and rereading it several times over. There was no reference to Leland's handwriting, but she had no doubt that the eloquently curvaceous script in front of her was a result of the wizard's hand. How did he find her so quickly? Did he always know where she was? Did he know what she was doing right now? He claimed to be elsewhere, out of town, and while she was inclined to believe him, there lingered the unsettling feeling of being watched. She put the note down on the coffee table and walked towards the door. She opened it and looked outside. There was nothing but hallway and dozens of apartment doors. No sign of an oversized magic man peeking around the corner or through a crack in one of the doors. Of course there wasn't. Why would there be? If he was really watching her, it was probably through some magic orb that provided him a bird's-eye view of her apartment, one that penetrated the roof and the many floors above her like an x-ray.

With any illusion of privacy shattered and unrecoverable, she closed the door and stepped back into her apartment. The package was on the couch where she had left it. The yellowed parchment was folded on the coffee table. She brought herself over and read it again. It said the same thing, referring to her as Jared, her human and male self, a version she was unsure still existed or not.

Sitting next to the package made her uneasy. What was in it? A new suit, so the note said, but of what animal was unclear. A different species of skunk? Maybe something else entirely. Just opening the package and pulling it out seemed risky. Having put on the skunk onesie when she was Jared had proved a universe-altering decision. Just coming into contact with another one, let alone putting it on, seemed like a risky decision.

Alas, curiosity got the better of her. She picked the package up and sat it in her lap. It felt heavy, at least a bit more than what the skunk onesie had weighed. She peeled the tape off and pulled open the cardboard flaps. Before her was a flat sheet of dark brown fur, one that seemed to fill the package's perfectly rectangular shape. Running down the center vertically was a zipper flap. It reminded Jasmine of what she had seen on the skunk onesie. She knew that once she put this one on it would disappear. That was if she put it on. Who knew what kind of animal it would change her into and what world she would find herself in.

Only one way to find out. She pinched the furry suit between just her index and thumb fingers like it was a dirty handkerchief and pulled it from the box. It was much heavier than the skunk onesie, that much was clear once she got most of it out of the box. Holding it with just her pinched fingers proved too difficult, so she had to readjust her grip so that she used all of her paws.

The fur was much denser than what was on her body now. Laying her paw on it revealed that it had multiple layers: a coarse outer coat and an almost impenetrable bottom coat. She ran her fingers through it. At the roots of each dark brown hair was a section of light blonde. Beneath it all the skin was invisible, the fur was so thick. What the hell is it? she asked herself. A grizzly bear? Images of herself as a snarling, hump-backed behemoth came to mind. If that's what it was, she definitely wasn't putting it on.

The box was put aside so that she could stand up with it. The rest of it fell out from the box and dangled from her paws like a new dress. The limbs, she saw, were incredibly thick. That tough, protective fur continued throughout the onesie's design. The only color besides dark brown on the outer layer was a crescent of blonde that went around the collar, above the chest and just below the hood. The feet paws were enormous like baseball mitts. When Jasmine brought the suit to her body and looked down the back she saw a brief but fluffy tail shaped like a club.

And still she didn't know what animal it was. A ferret maybe? A weasel? An otter? Any other mustelid? Being a skunk kept her guesses in the mustelid family. It was embarrassing not being able to pinpoint what it was exactly. It had to be an animal that lived in the arctic. Fur this thick could keep a blizzard at bay. A mink, maybe? No, the fur wasn't soft enough. Plus, the body was too stocky. Minks were more streamlined for swimming.

That left one mustelid that she knew of with this kind of fur: a wolverine. The short, stubby beasts with ferocious tempers and jaws that could snap moose femurs. That had to be what this was. The dense coat, stocky frame, and massive paws all pointed that way. Jasmine felt silly for not having realized it sooner. Is that what Leland wanted her to become next? An ankle-mauling claw dog that could give a honey badger a lesson in aggression? Maybe if I put it on it'll give me retractable claws and a skeleton of adamantium. As awesome as that would be, she doubted that it would turn her into Hugh Jackman.

If that was the case, would it ever be worth putting on? Leland said it was her choice, but something told her that there were consequences if she didn't. If he could craft suits that altered bodies and the universe, surely he had some way of fucking with her from afar. He was able to find her here in the skunk universe, so it was pretty much certain that he would find her in the wolverine universe if it existed.

Jasmine couldn't make her mind up, at least not yet. This was something worth sleeping on for at least a night or two. She went to her bedroom and hung the suit up on a hanger in her closet. There it would remain for some time, drawing Jasmine's thought every time she passed her closet door. A few days came and went with her living life as a skunk. Before long the novelty had worn off, and living in a world of skunks was as natural as living with humans.

It was one night, exactly nine days since the man known as Jared put on a skunk onesie, that Jasmine went to her closet and opened it. The wolverine suit was on the farthest end of the rack, behind the wall where it was darker. She pulled her shirts and jackets aside so that she could retrieve the bulky suit. Pulling the hanger off the rack reminded her just how heavy it was. The zipper went down so she could pull the hanger out. She took some time looking at the suit's fur patterns. On the back were light brown stripes, sort of like a skunk's. Hey, maybe she wouldn't change that much after all.

Jasmine went to the bathroom where she took her clothes off and unzipped the suit the rest of the way. The inside was a white velvet material, so at least it would be pleasant to wear for as long as it wasn't fusing to her skin like liquid tar. Her feet went into the legs first, filling them out to the paw pads. When she hiked the suit up to her waist she realized how loose it was around her limbs and body. At first she thought that it must have been made for someone much bigger than her, but then she remembered that larger mustelids like badgers and wolverines had loose hides, especially honey badgers.

Her arms went through the sleeves and she covered her shoulders. The hood went over her head, then she paused. All that was left was to pull the zipper up, no doubt the trigger for her transformation. She remembered how terrifying turning into a skunk had been, as it would be for any person. Saying that she knew what to expect this time wasn't that convincing.

But she was in too deep to stop now. With a deep breath she pulled the zipper up. It slid with a low buzz, clinging each metal tooth together until they had formed a thin but solid pinstripe of shiny steel. Jasmine let go of the zipper tab. Her heart was pounding in her chest. The zipper would vanish at any moment now, and her transformation into a wolverine would begin.

At first nothing happened. The zipper remained intact and the suit continued to hang off her body like a cloak. She held her arms out awkwardly, preparing for fur to fall into the shape of her body like shrink wrap, but it wouldn't. Frowning, she turned her back to the mirror to see if anything had changed there. There was the bulge of her fluffy skunk tail pressing into the hide and the unused wolverine tail hanging limply just below that. Did he send me a dud?

She turned to face the mirror again. Just like that, the zipper had vanished. "Oh," she said aloud. Rubbing her paw down her trunk unveiled nothing. Like a game of red light, green light, the zipper wouldn't move until Jasmine had her eyes off it.

There wasn't any time to dwell on the mechanics of the suit before she felt it shrinking into her body exactly as the skunk suit had. She saw it fall into the shape of her body, replacing most of her black and white fur with that luscious dark brown. A uniform pressure overtook her skin, causing her to inhale sharply on reflex. The suit was not so tight on her that she couldn't breathe, but there lingered the threat of it crushing her into oblivion if she did not keep a reserve of air in her lungs.

The hoodie consumed her head, leaving only her excited-looking face exposed. Her ears were flattened beneath it, muffling all sound except for the erratic thump of her heart. A creeping tickle began to move up her wrists. She held them out and saw the sleeves creeping up her paws like a spreading oil spill. The black fur was encroached and absorbed by the suit. It consumed her paw pads and slid up her digits like shadows on a tree in the evening.

Soon her claw tips were cocooned, leaving the hood to spill across her visage and transform it into something more ferocious. Looking in the mirror she saw the ovular cutout around her face shrink into her brow, chin, and cheeks. There was a stab of panic in her heart. Her breath quickened and she kneaded her paws. It wasn't painful, but seeing the furry material lay claim to her identity like a bacterium colonizing a petri dish was distressing.

Finally the suit covered her nose and mouth. The space between her eyes was the very last piece of her to be consumed. The suit was done spreading, but was nowhere near finished with transforming her. A great buzz flooded her body as the suit penetrated her skin and went to work making her more wolverine-ish. She yelped once her proud skunk tail sank into her back. Jasmine was spared the sight of the tail bones slithering down the space between her back and the suit like a snake. They fell into the limp wolverine tail, filling it with sensation and muscle that she could control.

"Ah!" She leaned forward onto the kitchen sink, catching herself on the rim of it. The transformation had settled into her skeleton. From her spine to her limbs she could feel the bones lengthening and swelling into something much stockier. Though the discomfort was short of painful, she was able to open her eyes and watch her reflection change along with her. The shoulders, once slim and dainty, were coming apart like a pair of sliding doors. It added only a few inches, but was enough to turn Jasmine from a petite woman into a linebacker. The same happened to her hips and thighs. The soft curvature of her waist hardened into a rigid trunk. Most glaring was the shift of her head. When the snout started hardening it was as though a filament of lead was being poured into her skull.

Then came her muscles. They filled out the girth of her skeleton gradually. Jasmine hissed and snarled. She could see the sinews rising into the skin. Beneath her breasts formed a pair of thick, squared pecs. Traps rose from the back of her neck, completing a second set of shoulders. The biceps turned into boulders. Her forearms rivaled the breadth of small tree trunks. The same process swelled her legs and glutes, completing her new status as an athlete. Last to change were her paws. The pads thickened into leathery mattresses that could've stopped the swing of a bat, they were so dense. Her claws, already long and powerful, grew even more intimidating, almost like a bear's. As she held her paws in front of her to watch the transformation she could feel the same process happening to her feet.

And that was the end of it. Like a lightning strike it ended as quickly as it had started. Every feeling of twisting and pulling dissipated, leaving Jasmine in a state of mild shock. She blinked and looked at herself in the mirror. Jasmine the skunk was gone, replaced by Jasmine (if that was still her name) the wolverine. Oddly she kept the overall features of her face. Her eyes were the same color brown. It was difficult to pinpoint given how much had changed, but for some reason she was still able to recognize herself.

On the other hand, everything else was completely different. Jasmine looked like a strongman or a bodybuilder, she had been so filled with muscle. She could see every flex her muscles performed when she moved her arms. Earlier she thought she looked like a linebacker. Looking at herself now it was clear that a lineman was more appropriate. It felt as though the tile floor beneath her would break beneath her immensity. Her neck was like a thigh and her paws were like catcher's mitts. Everything about her exuded strength and masculinity.

Which is funny, because she was still a female. Atop those gargantuan pecs were a pair of small, but still identifiable breasts. A quick inspection between her thighs confirmed that she was still a woman, though now her parts were hidden beneath a serious layer of brown fluff. Geez, if this is how big the ladies get. How big are the fellas?

That reminded her, she had a scale in the bathroom in both her previous lives. She turned and saw it next to the shower stall. It was a large platform made of acrylic with a digital screen for displaying the weight. That was almost exactly how it looked before, only something was different about it. It looked way bigger than it did before. As a human and a skunk it was about the size of a baseball plate. Now it was more like a pizza box, and much sturdier too. That made sense given Jasmine's size. If a regular person like her was this heavy, there would have to be bigger scales to accommodate that.

In fact, now that she looked around the room, she noticed that just about everything else was bigger than in the human and skunk worlds. The toilet bowl was much broader and the shower stall was more spacious. Even the toothbrush that she kept in its holder looked more like a golf ball brush than something she'd put in her mouth. That reminds me. She peeled her lip down with her claw and took a look at her teeth. They were sharp like before, but with a much more menacing length and girth. Jasmine made no mistake. These were for gripping and tearing flesh. Her fingertips drifted onto the jowls where there lay a bedrock of solid jaw muscle. Just flexing it let Jasmine know that she could crack a bone with just her teeth.

The last thing she inspected was her backside. Turning around made her stubby wolverine tail sweep across her legs. It looked small when compared to the glorious tower of black and white floof that it had been just a few minutes ago. Jasmine was a tad disappointed, but at least she still had a tail to wag around, something she enjoyed doing in the mirror like a goofball.

After what may have been half an hour going over her new form, Jasmine left the bathroom to see what had become of the rest of the world. Stepping through her conspicuously wider doorway brought her back into the living room where the theme of enlarged objects continued. The seats on her couch were fattened so that they could contain the enormous frame of a wolverine. The chairs at her dining table were similarly huge, as was the table itself. Humorously, while everything was significantly wider and thicker, nothing was at all taller. It was as though someone had stretched reality by two dimensions but neglected to attend the third.

The coffee table was at the center of her apartment. Her collection of national geographics was stacked on top of it alongside a remote control fatter than a machete. When Jasmine got close she noticed that there were only a few buttons on it and that they were the size of quarters. A quick look at her burly paws and fingers told her why. As she took time to look at her paw some more she wondered just how her claws worked. When she clenched her fist there came no trio of long, shiny spears from the gaps in her knuckles. A shame, but while she couldn't do that she was able to retract her massive claws back into her fingers halfway with the flex of a muscle she didn't have before. It felt strange and natural at the same time, like someone with amnesia performing their signature by muscle memory alone.

Jasmine sat down on the couch and picked up a NatGeo. A good chortle came out of her when she saw the wolverine version of scientists and celebrities peering over historical artifacts and taking pictures of wild animals which were the same as they had been in the human world. Jasmine tried turning the page but found that two of them were stuck together. She tried plucking at it with her thumb claw but couldn't get the damn things apart. After the fifth pluck a frown furrowed her brow.

"Come on now," she said, irritated. "Open the fuck up." Trying with both thumbs didn't work any better. Her frustration boiled over, twitching her lips into a snarl. "Fucking thing!" Finally she just threw the magazine back onto the table where it smacked off the stack and went fluttering to the floor. Jasmine slumped back into the couch with a harrumph and crossed her beefy arms in front of her chest. "Stupid magazine."

Her anger did not clear until moments later when she blinked and realized what she had done. The stack of magazines was now cut in two, its upper half slid across the coffee table like a lost game of jenga. Did I really just do that? That kind of aggravation wasn't normal for her, or anyone for that matter. Was that her wolverine DNA turning her into an impatient curmudgeon?

She got up from the couch so that she could fix the stack and resume reading the magazine. Take it easy this time. It's just a page. She opened the magazine to a random spot and looked at the pictures. To her chagrin, when she tried to turn the page she saw that this one was stuck too. Great, here we go. But before she frustrated herself on trying to peel them apart she realized that the next page she could get to carried over from the one she was on perfectly. The pages were never stuck together. They were made twice as thick so that her enormous claws would have a better time turning them.

"Oh..." she said, feeling thoroughly stupid. "Oops."

After perusing her collection of NatGeo's and getting some amusement out of seeing wolverine Jesus (that would never get old) she decided to turn on the TV. As expected, everyone who appeared was a wolverine version of themselves. Having gone through the same motions before as a skunk made the new transition no less jarring. She had just gotten used to seeing people as skunks. Now she had to readjust to people as wolverines.

Which reminded her, how was her family? She patted her thigh looking for her phone but found nothing but bare fur. It dawned on her that she had been naked this entire time. Her hide was so heavy that it felt like an outfit on its own. She didn't doubt that there was any need for winter clothes. How wolverines survived in tropical weather, if they were even down there, was beyond her.

She remembered leaving her phone in her pants pocket and went to the bathroom to go get it. It was weird picking up a pair of jeans that looked big enough to fit around a tree and knowing that it was hers. Even weirder was that the tag on the back read "skinny fit". Putting them back on was a delicate procedure given her massive sharp feet claws. The denim was padded with leather on the inside for that exact reason. I guess everything's gotta be made extra tough in this world. I feel like the Hulk trying to fix an iPhone.

Once her clothes were on (she was happy to find a hole for her tail in the waist of her pants) she drew her phone out of her pocket. The thing weighed like a brick and had a screen the size of a rearview mirror. Jasmine sat down on the couch and braced herself for the journey into her gallery. Seeing her family was going to be the most jarring of all changes thus far, she knew it. Her thumb tapped the gallery app, clacking the thumb claw on what was probably a bulletproof screen. First there were the pictures Jasmine had taken most recently when she was a skunk. There were a few selfies and pictures she had taken with her friends. Prior to putting on the skunk suit, her friend group consisted mostly of the guys she worked with. After turning into a woman there was a major shift in gender with her friends.

That made her wonder. If the wolverine version existed before the skunk version, and the skunk version existed before the human version, where are they now? Do they even still exist? All of her memories of being Jared and her brief time as a skunk were intact, but buried beneath all of that was an entire lifetime as those three species. She was a human, a skunk, and a wolverine all sandwiched together within a bread of consciousness baked by the original Jared.

But who was the original Jared? Could any version of her even be called original? Skunk Jasmine had probably been turned into a human, and then into a wolverine. In that case, wolverine Jasmine became a skunk first and was now a human. Wait, no. That doesn't work because I was a skunk at that time. Wolverine Jasmine probably turned into a human and then became a skunk, or some fourth animal Leland hasn't sent me yet. If that's the case, what does that make skunk Jasmine?

Her head was starting to hurt. She forgot about the phone in her paws for a moment. That existential dread concerning herself, her family, and the life she had left behind weighed on her like a ton of bricks. What was real and what wasn't was indecipherable. Existence itself was a fragile concept, even more so than it ever had been. The fact that there was a being out there, Leland, who could transfer people from reality to reality with just a magic suit was deeply unsettling.

Then she remembered the phone in her paw. It was still open to her gallery where she was greeted with the faces of her friends and family. She scrolled down to see more photos, those with more smiles and cute animals. With each upwards swipe of her thumb there would zoom a dozen or so pictures she had taken onto the screen. Every one of them brought up a memory of either when she was a skunk or when she was Jared. Here they had all been given a certain wolverine flair, but were the same pictures regardless. Whether or not the other realities existed did not matter so long as she had her family and friends here in this one.

Existential dread having been quelled for the moment, Jasmine smiled and tucked the phone back into her pocket. She stood up from the couch and did a big, full body stretch, reaching her artillery-arms out at her sides and bearing the muscle against the fur. She came to a rest with a sigh and looked out the window. It was a beautiful day outside. The sun was beaming into her living room and radiating off the tree leaves. A perfect day for a walk if there ever was one.

* * *

Jasmine all but burst out of the front entrance and into the parking lot. As expected, all of the cars were stretched widthwise to accommodate their much girthier occupants. On the way to hers Jasmine spotted one of her neighbors getting out of his truck. Back in the human reality he had driven a green Toyota Tundra pickup. That was the case here, only it was much, much, much bigger. The wheels looked like they belonged on a tractor and the body was hitched up more than a foot above them. The neighbor came out and flicked his keys around into his giant paw before tucking them into his pocket.

He noticed Jasmine staring as he passed her. "Hey there," he said, somewhat concerned.

Jasmine blinked and realized what she was doing. "Hey! Uh, nice truck."

Her neighbor smiled. "Oh, thanks." He walked the rest of the way to the apartment with his head held high and his chest upthrusted. That clearly made his day.

Now that she was walking through the parking lot amidst all the cars and trucks she noticed that they were not merely widened but dazzled in ways that they hadn't been in the other realities. There were cars with souped up engines rising out of their hoods, their trio of red exhaust ports blinking in the sunlight as she passed them. There were fat, black wall tires and hotrod flames. Vanity plates were stamped with outright vulgar acronyms while flanked by even ruder bumper stickers. Jasmine felt like she was in the center of a car show, not an apartment parking lot. Is every man in this universe compensating for something?

Apparently the women were too, because Jasmine's car was the exact same way. She stood in front of it, awestruck by her Camry's explosive presentation. The hood had a section cut out to leave room for the engine block. The wheels were a deep black with chrome hubcaps. The once plain beige color was replaced by a volcanic black and a fiery red stripe that ran down its center. The license plate said LOADED, whatever that meant.

In no way would Jasmine have recognized it as her car if not for the plush Luigi keychain she kept dangled from the rearview mirror. Out of everything that had changed, that was the only thing that remained. She slid her keys out of her pocket and clicked the unlock button on her fob. The headlights blinked and the doors clunked. Yes, it was hers. It would've been embarrassing if not for everyone else's being the same.

She climbed into the front seat and found a thick steering wheel. The way everything like the knobs on the radio were so big and damage-proof reminded her of a playskool van she saw toddlers ride in all the time. There was still a gap in the backrest for her tail which was convenient. There was some hesitation before she put the key into the ignition. There was a mighty roar and a rumble when she twisted it. The radio blared her favorite station loudly enough to make her ears fold back on her head. Jesus Christ. Is everything going to be this loud and obnoxious?

Apparently so. The drive to the park felt like a survival mission. The roads rumbled and shook with a caravan of engines powerful enough to propel a fighter plane. Hitched up trucks and souped up cars would sputter past Jasmine, black fumes vomiting from their exhausts and fogging up her vision. Every so often there would be the blare of a car horn or the screech of tires. The road didn't feel like a road so much as a herd of bison trying to stampede away from a predator. Jasmine spent the entire ride huddled in her seat, paws gripping the steering wheel, praying she wouldn't get in an accident and have to deal with any of these psychos.

She made it to the park without incident, though her heart was still racing as she got out of the car. Her wolverine instincts brought up fantasies of finding every one of those aggressive drivers and beating the shit out of them. She realized that her teeth were clenched and that her paw was balled into a fist. A few deep breaths calmed her down. Is everyone this aggressive? It's a miracle civilization even came to be with all this malice.

For now she could spend some time in the park and in the sun where there would at least be some folk enjoying a peaceful stroll. Jasmine spent her time people-watching, mostly. There were people walking their dogs which were still quadrupedal like they were in the human world. If I go to the dog world then what will they be walking? She imagined naked humans on their hands and knees being walked around on leashes. It made her shudder.

The rest of the afternoon was spent enjoying the sun and eating some ice cream she got from a kiosk. The waffle cone it came in was as big as a water glass with scoops like grapefruits. The moment she made her first lick she found herself in a lapping frenzy. Flicks of liquid chocolate were splashed across her lips and face. The thing was huge and yet the entire cone was in her stomach in a matter of seconds. She stood in the middle of the pathway, face covered in chocolate, a severe chill grating at her teeth and mouth. God, I'm a monster. The people around her didn't seem to care, really. They passed by her messy face without a second glance. Hopefully that meant everyone was a slob when they ate. She made a quick trip back to the kiosk for some napkins which the server was happy to provide.

Her walk around the park was relaxing, but nonetheless hampered by the constant thrum of traffic that wrung in the park like being in the center of a colosseum. Jasmine steeled herself for the journey home, promising to keep herself calm and collected so that if anything happened she wouldn't lose her head. After what felt like half an hour of white-knuckle driving she made it home safe.

The next day she was scheduled for work. If there was any activity she had the most trepidation towards it was acting as hostess for some ravenous, aggressive, hard headed mustelids with claws for days. She showed up on time and went through the usual motions of greeting people and showing them to their seats. Almost every meal served was either a giant steak or a triple-stacked burger, all of which were ordered rare. Steaks Jasmine would've thought were only for food challenges were served regularly. Just like that they would be gone with startling speed, usually without the help of forks or knives. It relieved Jasmine to see patrons devouring their food with the same recklessness that she had done to her ice cream the day before. By the end of her shift she had worked up quite an appetite and ordered a large steak of her own. She devoured it with typical ferocity, leaving her chin and shirt soaked in red meat juice. When she was done she started giggling herself silly. She had just demolished a steak that would've stopped Adam Richman cold halfway through. To her that was freakin' hilarious.

The next few days were spent either at work or in front of a TV watching movies and shows. Wolverine media, she found out, was remarkably violent. Scenes depicting action and fights had a certain impact to them that their human and skunk counterparts lacked. Men fighting used their claws. Punches did not sound like smacks but had a brutal knuckle-on-bone crunch like they did in reality. There was no shortage of blood and swearing. With how the protagonists in movies reaped their vengeance on the villains, it was difficult to determine who was really the good guy.

Worst of all, Jasmine fucking loved it. Particularly brutal moments would have her standing out of her seat, pumping her fists, shouting with glee every time a bad guy got their teeth knocked out by someone's fist. It would leave her with a thumping heart and coursing adrenaline. She had to sit down and pause whatever she was watching just so she could collect herself. Maybe this world isn't too healthy to live in for very long, she thought.

Her saving grace came in the form of a package in the mail that arrived a week after her transformation. Once again it was a medium sized cardboard box that lacked any return address. A note was taped to it with the name JASMINE written on it in familiar handwriting.

Dear Jasmine,

I hope that's the right name to call you by now. You've spent some time using it both as a skunk and a wolverine. If not, my apologies.

How's being a wolverine? Exhilarating, I hope. I thought it would be the perfect animal to spice up your life. They are a rather rowdy bunch, aren't they? A tad too violent for my tastes. Always picking fights and trying to one up each other with their gaudy cars and dress, something I'm certain you've noticed first hand.

If it hasn't been to your liking, you're more than welcome to try on this new suit I've brought. This one's not quite as related to either skunks or wolverines. Perhaps it'll offer the most unique experience yet.

Sincerely,

Leland Gaunt