I was taking care of my 12-year-old human son, Mi
I was taking care of my 12-year-old human son, Michael Wentworth with Sandy blonde hair and brown eyes (4’7″) and 10-year-old, Izzy Wentworth with baby blonde hair and blue eyes (4’6″), my human daughter, living in the countryside of Montana, USA in the human world in a big mansion.
My name is Rose Wentworth, a 21 years old young human woman with bright blonde hair and light brown eyes, (5’5″) and Michael’s and Izzy’s mother.
Roger Rabbit is my favorite cartoon titular character from the 1988 live action animated hybrid film, “Who Framed Roger Rabbit?”.
Michael stay in his shared bedroom with his sister, Izzy.
I felt a warm aura around me while Izzy watching.
My shadow was replaced with Roger Rabbit’s shadow on the floor below me.
I stumbled on the floor as Roger Rabbit jumps out of a magical book, looking at me, softly and happily, then jumps into me, making me smile just like Roger Rabbit.
I looked down behind me and saw a white cotton-ball tail, wagging my white cotton-ball tail as my light brown eyes turns blue as I putting my slightly bigger four-fingered yellow gloved hands with 3 fingers and one thumb on my cheeks, in Roger’s high-pitched voice with a stutter in it, from Charles Fleischer, the voice actor of Roger Rabbit.
My appearance shift to a traditional hand drawn animation look just like in Who framed Roger Rabbit.
I turning around, while smiling softly just like Roger Rabbit saying in a voice “P-b-b-b-b-bleeeease!!!,” which turned into a high-pitched voice of Roger Rabbit with a stutter in it, from the voice actor of Roger Rabbit, Charles Fleischer, which I spoke in, while in Roger’s voice.
My feet grew bigger and then flattened into three toed feet with pink colored soles with three dark pink circles on the pink soles of my feet.
I started to crave carrots, which I can’t resist with drool coming out of my mouth at the thought of carrots.
I started to hopped in the kitchen to get carrots, which I started to eating them, acting like Roger Rabbit.
white rounded tipped Rabbit ears with white fur tufts and pink insides slowly push from my head, replacing my human ears, while I smile with a single buck-tooth pushes out on the left side of my mouth as Roger Rabbit’s trademark black eyebrows appears above my enlarged eyes like Roger Rabbit’s, twitching my pink rounded triangle nose with a white highlight on top of my nose with three black rabbit whiskers on both sides of my nose.
2D White fur grew on my arms and legs.
My legs changed into Roger Rabbit’s short legs.
My arms changes into Roger Rabbit’s slender male arms with white fur tufts on the elbows.
More 2D white fur grew on my torso.
My hourglass figure changes into Roger Rabbit’s slender male toon rabbit body shape.
My body shifted into Roger Rabbit’s slender toon rabbit body.
My waist disappeared.
My breasts flatten completely, covered with white fur with no female toon rabbit hips.
I feel a shift in my crotch, turning me a male toon rabbit.
My hair changed color from bright blonde to red-orange grew shorter, stopping at the shoulders, a bit unruly with bangs.
The top of my face grew 2D white fur.
The bottom of my face grew more 2D white fur and reshaped into a rabbit muzzle.
My cheeks got puffy up a bit just like Roger Rabbit’s with white fur tufts on the sides.
My height decreased to the height of 3 feet tall, the same height as Roger Rabbit.
The hyperactive, funny, a bit childlike and not very bright at times personality of Roger Rabbit with my friendly, high intelligence and talkative nature melding together filled my mind completely merging my own Memories of being Rose Wentworth permanently, except my kids, Michael and Izzy and being their mother.
My silver necklace with a cross in the middle of the necklace still around my neck as Roger Rabbit, which I keep it on.
I looked at myself in the mirror as Roger Rabbit, but still remembered myself as Rose, touching my rabbit ears with my hands.
Izzy hugs me, feeling happiness bubbling in my chest.
I scooped Izzy up in my arms and nuzzles her nose with mine, “my dear Izzy.”.
I walking up to Michael’s and Izzy’s shared bedroom, wearing a red overalls with 2 yellow buttons on my chest area and other 2 yellow buttons on the back of the overalls with a green patch on the seat area of the overalls, tying the yellow polka dotted blue bowtie around my neck, opening the door while putting Izzy back on her feet, see my son, staring at me, in shock, “Michael? I’m still your mom, my dear.”
Michael steps forward, a bit, in surprise and nodding in confirmation.
I struggle to walk a bit, klutzy, tumbling into some clothes which covered me completely, giggling softly.
Michael cuddles me.
Michael saw me as a mother figure, no matter what I look like.
Michael hugging me while I hugged him back.
We stay inside of our house while laying on the top of my bedroom during the summer, while I looked up at Michael and Izzy with a soft smile, while hugging my kids, calling them, my little ones while my cotton-ball tail wagging with happiness.
The end.
The Montana sun streamed through the tall windows of our sprawling mansion, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Izzy, my ten-year-old with her halo of baby blonde hair and bright blue eyes, was engrossed in a book, a warm aura seeming to emanate from her. I, Rose Wentworth – twenty-one, blonde, and light-brown-eyed – felt a peculiar shift. My shadow on the floor… it wasn’t mine anymore. It was Roger Rabbit’s.
Then, a magical book lying open on the floor near Izzy pulsed with light. Roger Rabbit himself, impossibly real, hopped out, his eyes soft and happy as he leaped towards me. He… he merged with me. A gasp escaped my lips as I felt a fluffy white tail wagging behind me. My light brown eyes turned a startling blue. My hands – larger, four-fingered, and gloved in yellow – instinctively flew to my cheeks.
“P-b-b-b-b-bleeeease!!!” I squeaked, the voice a perfect, stuttering echo of Charles Fleischer’s iconic portrayal. My reflection in a nearby mirror confirmed the transformation. My feet had flattened into three-toed paws with pink soles and dark pink circles. I craved carrots with a ferocity I’d never known. Drool trickled from my mouth.
I hopped – literally hopped – into the kitchen, gobbling down carrots with gleeful abandon. My human ears were replaced by rounded rabbit ears, white fur tufts and pink insides sprouting forth. A single buck-tooth jutted from my grin, framed by Roger Rabbit’s trademark black eyebrows. My nose sharpened into a pink triangle. Two-dimensional white fur sprouted on my arms and legs, reshaping them into Roger Rabbit’s slender limbs. My hourglass figure disappeared, replaced by a lean, male rabbit form. My breasts flattened, my waist vanished, and a definitive shift in my crotch sealed the transformation. My bright blonde hair turned a vibrant red-orange, unruly and shoulder-length. My face reshaped into a rabbit muzzle. I was three feet tall, pure Roger Rabbit.
The hyperactive energy, the childlike humor, the occasional bumbling ineptitude of Roger Rabbit melded with my own personality, creating a bizarre, yet surprisingly harmonious blend. My memories remained – of Michael and Izzy, of my life as Rose – but they were layered beneath the undeniable reality of being Roger Rabbit. My silver cross necklace remained; a curious juxtaposition of human and cartoon.
Izzy, oblivious to the magnitude of the change, looked up and smiled. The happiness bubbling in my chest was genuine, amplified by this new, furrier heart. I scooped her into my arms, nuzzling her nose with mine. “My dear Izzy,” I whispered, my voice still holding that familiar Roger Rabbit lilt.
Entering Michael and Izzy’s shared bedroom, clad in my red overalls and yellow polka-dotted blue bow tie, I saw my twelve-year-old son staring, jaw agape. “Michael? I’m still your Mom, my dear,” I said, my voice a bit shaky.
He stepped forward, a hint of shock in his eyes, then a slow nod of understanding. My attempt at a graceful entrance ended with a clumsy tumble into a pile of laundry, resulting in soft giggles. He cuddled me, his embrace as comforting as ever. He saw his mother, no matter the form.
Later that summer evening, sprawled on the bedroom floor, my cotton-ball tail thumping a happy rhythm, I looked up at my children, hugging them close. “My little ones,” I murmured, the love overflowing my cartoon heart. The transformation was complete. My life as Roger Rabbit, mother of two, had begun.
