Why you’ve set a melon on your head you aren’t too sure, but you’ve somehow balanced it across the entire room without tripping, so good on you.
The melon however, does not seem to appreciate the ride you’ve given it, turning to sludge on your head as you run around blinded. Your panic only greatens when you find yourself on your knees, unable to get free of the goo covering your body.
Somehow it’s soft, almost pillowy as you pat and tug at it with hands now turned to paws. You can see a muzzle poking out from your face, or starting to or something and your hair feels sticky. It might be a bit too late to remove the goo now…