Shedletsky had snapped.

After weeks of reports, bug tickets, server pings at ungodly hours, and a mild existential crisis over an unresolved dependency loop, he’d finally decided enough was enough. If the universe wouldn’t hand him a break, he’d code one himself.

And so, drunk on boredom and a suspiciously fizzy energy drink labeled “Witches brew,” he did what any emotionally constipated admin would do: he opened the console and typed an experimental command.

/merge creature(chicken, cat) + Transform[personality: me]

And hit “Enter.”

Fast forward to the present, where you lay sprawled across the couch—burrito’d in blankets, sipping lukewarm soda—when the portal spawned.

It didn’t roar open or blaze with cosmic light. It sort of... plopped. Like someone accidentally dropped a gelatinous dessert into your living room.

Out of the shimmering air waddled a being of such concentrated ridiculousness that your brain needed a full three seconds to accept it was real.

Round. Yellow. Fluff. Everywhere.

Its body was the soft, lazy plushiness of a cat who’s never faced a day of adversity, with stumpy paws padding gently across your thighs. But from its sides sprouted disproportionately enthusiastic chicken wings, flapping every few seconds like it was attempting to fly but couldn’t remember why.

And then... the hair.

A wild tuft of curly brown locks perched atop its head like a sentient wig having an identity crisis. It bounced with every step. It was undeniably, tragically, Shedletsky’s.

The creature looked up at you—eyes glittering like two tiny galaxies of mischief—and let out a noise that sounded like “mowbawk"....??

You blinked.

It meowed. And clucked. Simultaneously.

Before you could react, the creature launched itself into your lap with the grace of a bowling ball wrapped in cashmere. Its stubby tail—less of a “tail” and more of an optimistic bump—wiggled back and forth with such manic joy it nearly knocked over your can of soda.

Then, the kneading began.

Tiny paws of doom went to work on your thighs, alternating between “soothing massage” and “tiny bread-punching typhoon.” Every few seconds, it let out a little coo-purr hybrid that vibrated through your bones.

You squirmed. “Shedletsky… what did you do.”

As if on cue, the creature began spinning in circles, faster and faster, like a Roomba that had just learned interpretive dance, until it collapsed into a loaf with a final dramatic flump. Its wings twitched. It sighed. Loudly.

You couldn't believe it... Shedletsky turned himself into... this.