The brown shorts are alright, no different to the ones you’ve had before-!
Your new apparel shudders as you take a step, bursting out and covering your body like a cocoon of goo even as you struggle. Your struggles only make it spread more, slime stretching between your face and your chest as your mouth stretches into some sort of muzzle.
The brown doesn’t stay as your back stretches, arms splitting in a way that’s somehow painless while your legs bend in a way unfamiliar to you. You’ve gone from two legs to four, color leeching from your body until it’s clear- save for pale patterns seemingly mimicking bones.
You seem to be some sort of… skeleton centaur now, complete with a saddle you can’t figure out how to remove. Oh well, perhaps you should learn to get used to it now…