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.
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 baby blonde hair and bright blue eyes, sat quietly watching cartoons, a warm aura seeming to emanate from her. I, Rose Wentworth, twenty-one, blonde and light-brown eyed, felt a strange shift in the room. My shadow… it wasn’t mine anymore. A familiar, cartoonish shadow stretched across the floor – Roger Rabbit’s shadow.
Before I could register the absurdity, a worn, leather-bound book lay open on the floor beside me. Out popped Roger Rabbit himself, a blur of red and white fur, his eyes soft and happy. He leaped towards me, landing squarely in my arms. A delighted giggle escaped my lips – a giggle that sounded… different.
Looking down, I saw a fluffy white tail, wagging furiously. My light brown eyes had shifted to a vibrant blue. My hands…they were smaller, four-fingered, yellow-gloved. In a voice that wasn’t my own, a high-pitched, stuttering voice – “P-b-b-b-b-bleeeease!!!” – escaped my lips, the unmistakable cadence of Charles Fleischer’s Roger Rabbit.
My reflection in the nearby mirror confirmed the impossible. My feet were three-toed, flattened, and shockingly pink. A ravenous craving for carrots seized me; drool dribbled down my chin. I hopped – hopped! – into the kitchen, devouring a mountain of carrots with unrestrained glee.
White, rounded rabbit ears sprouted from my head, replacing my human ones. A single buck-tooth poked out from my left side, flanked by Roger Rabbit’s trademark black eyebrows above my now-enlarged eyes. My nose transformed into a twitching pink triangle. Two-dimensional white fur spread across my arms and legs, my figure reshaping itself – my hourglass form disappearing, my breasts flattening, my legs shortening into stubby rabbit legs. My waist vanished, replaced by the slender, male physique of Roger Rabbit. A shift in my crotch completed the transformation. My blonde hair became the short, unruly red-orange of the cartoon rabbit, and my face morphed into a rabbit muzzle. My height shrank to three feet, the perfect Roger Rabbit stature.
My personality shifted too; the hyperactive, slightly dim-witted energy of Roger blended with my own intelligence and talkativeness. My memories remained – my kids, Michael and Izzy, were still my beloved children – but I was Roger Rabbit, a fact I accepted with surprising ease. My silver cross necklace remained, a strange comfort in this bizarre new reality.
Izzy, oblivious to the change, hugged me, her little arms tight around my fur. The happiness bubbling in my chest was genuine, a mix of Roger’s boundless energy and my own motherly love. “My dear Izzy,” I murmured, scooping her into my arms, my nose nuzzling hers.
I donned a pair of red overalls (found miraculously in my closet) and a yellow polka-dotted blue bowtie, and walked into Michael and Izzy’s shared bedroom, Izzy safely on her feet. Michael stared at me, his jaw slack. “Michael? I’m still your mom, my dear,” I said, my voice still carrying the quirky charm of Roger Rabbit.
My newly acquired clumsiness kicked in; I stumbled, tumbling into a pile of clothes, giggling softly as my son rushed to my side. Michael, ever the loyal son, cuddled me, his embrace as comforting as before, his love unchanged by my transformation. He saw me – his mother – no matter the form.
Later that summer afternoon, lying on the bed in my room, my cotton-ball tail wagging happily, I looked at Michael and Izzy, their faces etched with love and a hint of wonder. “My little ones,” I whispered, hugging them close. The warmth of their love was the most comforting thing in the world, even for a cartoon rabbit named Roger. The end.
