He was a badger now.
It had taken him some time to recall that he had not always been a badger. His initial, very natural assumption had been that, since he was clearly a badger now, he had always been a badger. I mean, that was how it worked, right? If he had been something else, say, a hedge-fund manager, well, he would still be a hedge-fund manager; most likely an out-of-work hedge fund manager, but still.
But then, as he was working on digging out a family of rabbits on the slope overlooking the marsh, he started to remember some very un-badgerly experiences. The conference rooms, the after-hours bars, the hotel hook-ups. No badger could have done these things, or even known these things. He knew that for a fact. Clearly something really weird had happened.
And he was going to figure out what, but first he had to finish the task at hand. Whatever mysteries were out there, a badger had to eat, and baby rabbits made a damn fine breakfast.
