There is a sudden shift in your balance. You don't know what caused it, but it felt like someone groped your ass. You tumble and see the boxes fall to the ground in slow-motion, followed by yourself. As you fall head first into the crashing boxes your only hope is they don't contain glass-work. Then your face makes contact, and everything turns black.
You wake moments later, just in time to see steam blowing out of mister Johnson's ears. "Is he OK? Can he hear me? Good." He draws a deep breath. "Mike... YOU'RE FIRED!" he roars. He flips the ring in your face right before storming off.
A little while later you're standing outside the personnel entrance of your old employer. "Damn" You mumble, quickly putting a hand before your mouth in surprise. Cursing is sinful, you remember, and unbecoming of a proper Christian. Then you shake your head confused. You wouldn't consider yourself very religious. Come to think of it, you haven't visited a church in years.
You start heading in the direction of home. Mom and dad will be pissed you lost that job. Your current predicament is pretty bad, but somehow your mind keeps wandering back to the moment you cursed. What were you thinking? You never minded using dirty words before, but somehow the sin feels like a heavy weight. One which you are unable to shake off.
You wander by the side of the road, lost in thought, not noticing your own body changing. Your legs and ass have become a lot more rounded, as you walk your hips smoothly sway. Your hair lengthened past your shoulders and your hands started looking delicately feminine.
You skip a step as your shoes suddenly transform into unflattering black pumps. "What on earth?" You mumble, as you look at your new shoes you notice the changes to your legs for the first time. You might have fallen harder than you suspected. A lock of hair falls before your eyes and you unconsciously brush it behind your ear. Then realization hits you. You don't have long hair...
You quickly check your reflection in a nearby window, and to your horror a completely strange person looks back. You stand there, flabbergasted, just staring at the reflection that has to be yours. Long dark-blonde hair, a pair of loose pants covering up your wide hips and further down your recently acquired uncomfortable shoes... The longer you look, the more you recognize of yourself. But there's also parts of someone else there, just scraping the edge of recognition.
"Nun's shoes..." You half mutter to yourself "these are nun's shoes." Realization dawns as you put one and one together. "Son of a bitch." In a reflex you clasp your hand over your mouth again. You go over the events of this morning again in detail. You, late for work. Boss, making a remark about nuns. Boxes, tipping over getting you fired. And the ring... The Ring! mister Johnson was holding it when he called you a nun...
You fish the ring out of your pocket. Could it be that this thing is actually magical? If so, you'd better be careful what you say from now on.
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