He woke to the feel of his skin. It seemed rougher. When he turned on the light he saw that it seemed pinker too. The skin over his face pulled tight.

Hell, was this part of a hangover? Though he acted tough, he hadn't had many. Not the same story he told everyone else. Hell, he was a virgin too, but that better not get out. Yeah, Frankie had secrets alright. He had to be a bully to show his friends and all those rich kids too. It didn't really matter who had to be hurt in the process, but when it came down to it, Frankie wasn't tough at all.

"Francis, get down here. I'm not going to call you again. You're late for school. This is the third time this week."

God, he hated when she called him Francis. It was her fault he had that bitch of a name, but she knew it was Frank, now. If his friends ever heard...

"Yeah. Yeah, Ma. "I'm sick today, I ain't goin'."

"Oh, yes you are mister. I'm not facing that truancy judge again. That is one mean bastard."

After ten minutes of arguing, she gave up and he heard the door slam. He kind of felt bad for her, getting the blame and all. It was his fault and he really had planned to try harder, but man, he felt like shit.

He put his hands to his face and was surprised to find his nose felt flat and his mouth was swollen outward. Panic struck. He ran down the stairs in hopes of catching his mother. Seeing his shadow profile, he cried out, tripping and falling down the stairs.

When he tried to get up he screamed in pain. His ankles seemed to be stretching out flat and his toes felt like rocks. Horrified, he heard a knock at the door, but found when he tried to speak, only a hoarse grunt came out. The front door opened a crack.

His friend, Rocky said, "Hey, Frank, did ya hear that fat bitch hung herself?" He laughed. "Wonder where she found a rope strong enough?" "Frankie, ya hear me, that fat little blonde you called Miss Piggy all the time, you know the one you always made her bawl?....she croaked."

Rocky opened the door, eyes widened, he screamed, "Jesus, what the hell, oh my God. Frankie, can that be you?" He looked over the ruined face with the flattened round nose, the puffy pink body, the feet ending in hooves, and finally to the newly sprouted curly tail. His face twisted in disgust, "Frankie?" he whispered again.

The writhing barnyard creature at the bottom of the stairs, once a boy names Frank, could only snort in reply. How would he keep this new secret? A tear slipped from his eye. What would his friends think of him now?