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"All right," Doctor Porcus said. "His procedure is complete. Chandler should be up any moment now."
And he was. Chandler's eyes flicked open just after Doctor Porcus finished speaking. But the look on Porcus's face, that of shock, belied his true emotion - arousal. He had succeeded in giving Chandler a plastic surgery procedure. But his surgery was a different kind. Chandler, who had gone in for a simple noselift, woke up to find his skin much more taffy in colour. As he rose up, his nose and ears twitched, and he instinctively let out a snort. He reached up from under the sheets and saw that his hands had been changed - they were now trotters. But he was unconcerned. He felt his face - feeling his porcine nose and long tusks that forced his mouth open in a permanent grunt. He knew that his ears had been changed, too, into piggy, flopping ears. Through his now-heightened sense of smell, Chandler sniffed out an excruciating stench. Deep down, he knew it was him. He smelled worse than the most rotten egg he had ever been around. Chandler looked over at Doctor Porcus.
"A pig? That's what you chose?"
"It's fitting for you," Porcus explained. "Now eat, piggy. Your life in the sty is beginning now."