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A Third Wave of Transformations
Chapter 1
Super C speaking; I’m going to go ahead and narrate this one. This is the third large list of American individuals the C.I.D.F. (and we, the G-52s, as helpers) have been documenting as those that were formerly human, but had transformed from the CNG effects into animals. I know it bores you all to death, but you must understand that it is a necessary thing to do. Why? Many of these animals had found themselves as death targets of those going after them. There were a variety of reasons for the criminals wanting to murder them, but they all have the same thing in common: all the criminals were CNG smugglers, and CNG killed the smugglers in the end.
The first wave of transformations we documented was done in Dark Wolf’s castle, since it is also home to the G-52 HQ. All the ones we documented there had to promise us they’d forget everything about the HQ building (unless they were a rare case of actually becoming a G-52 later on), and the C.I.D.F. used their memory wiping devices. The second wave was done in Washington, D.C., making it easier for Leo the Patriotic Lion to award any awards necessary, since he was giving out more than all previous Presidents of the United States of America put together. “I must be making the manufacturers angry,” he joked. “They keep having to make them.”
So where do you think we did the third wave? Was it in the G-52 HQ? No. Was it at the White House? No; it wasn’t there either. Believe it or not, we did it in Cripto’s basement, of all places. Why? Multiple reasons: 1) Cripto was always willing to help out; he is my number one, after all; 2) the C.I.D.F. couldn’t do it at G-52 HQ because Dark Wolf was out sick with a cold, so he couldn’t hold the big parade like he wanted to do, and 3) the rainy weather we were having was making it impossible to do it outside.
“Are you okay with that?” I asked Cripto.
“I can work with that,” he replied. “While I do not like having strangers in my house, this is an exception. Besides, they’ll be safe from the people going after them. Are they going to tell us why these people are going after them?”
“Only if they volunteer that information,” I said. “Some of them don’t want their story leaked to the public.”
“My lips are sealed.”
“Good.”
As with the other two waves, we also paid for all meals and expenses that were necessary to pay for so that our guests didn’t have to worry about a thing. All of them made sure to say thank you to us, and many of them, being fans of Cripto, planned to ask for his autograph. The rest of his rock band, Furry Fury, volunteered to help out as well. “If they want his autograph,” John Parkinson (the black wolf keyboardist; he goes by J.P. for short) commented, “they’ll more than likely ask for ours.”
“Do we know if they are following in the same pattern?” Chris Jocks (the red fox bass guitarist) asked me.
“I am not sure about animal patterns,” I said, “because CNG was usually totally random. However, it did do more species than others; there are more lions and tigers than any other animal in the end, but very rarely did we end up with something along the lines of an alligator crocodile.”
“I don’t get it.”
“I don’t get it either.”
Because it was the first time Cripto and his rock band had been involved in a documentation project, the first thing I made them take note about was about the patterns we do know, which began with the musicians. It didn’t matter if a musician that underwent the transformation was a rock star like Cripto, a jazz musician like the Snare Soldier, a classically trained musician, or a drum major or marching band musician like the scores of those in the G-52s. (J.P. is also a classically trained pianist, and while Furry Fury has yet to win a Grammy for their music, or something from the American Music Awards, or AMA, J.P. has won several awards for the piano recordings he had made of Bach, Beethoven, Brahms, and Franz Liszt. “Liszt was the hardest one to do,” he said. “I didn’t think I’d still have my fingers after that.”) CNG would not accept the truth that everybody is different, unique, and special. Instead, it wanted a world where everything was the same, which would be so boring, tiresome, and lame. Thus, all musicians got the same superpowers all G-52s and allies who played any instruments and/or sang got, regardless of genre:
1. Being able to summon any instrument (and make it disappear), and play at the level of the Forsythians, who were said to be “beyond professional.” If the animal sang, they could sing professionally, and could even possibly sing operatically. (Pray hard that they don’t break any glass.)
2. Being able to manipulate sounds with one’s hands and feet, although this doesn’t always happen. The individual would really have to put their mind to it to make it happen; the one consistency, however, is that if somebody was frustrated, embarrassed, upset, or stressed about something, and they face palmed, everybody would hear an eerie piano chord.
3. Being able to summon portals that allowed one to get from place to place in a hurry. Our guests had no reason to ever do this, but they found that they could do this anyway.
4. Being able to change clothes on the fly.
In the end, it felt even more depressing because it further reinforced just how depressing CNG was making our world. Even with it gone, we still have a long way to go, for the effects of its aftermath will take tens of thousands of years to wear off. However, since it is gone for good, the human race is safe from the unwanted transformations; it is not safe, however, from possible instant death, because the supernatural forces picking up where it left off, which the C.I.D.F. are giving the codename “Invisible CNG 2.0,” is still killing humans it thinks is worthy of the death penalty, and unlike CNG, it doesn’t have a conscience. If any innocent lives have been taken, it won’t be reversible.
The best example of innocent lives being taken would be when all those immature teenagers down in Houston, TX, bought jerseys of the French basketball player Steeve Ho You Fat (that really is his name), just because they couldn’t stop snickering or making innuendos about the name. When their parents and siblings found out about it, all of them suddenly died on the spot, leaving the teens as orphans. Since then, all the teens have done nothing but community service (as well as lose any scholarship opportunities they would have had), and attorneys were working overtime to ensure the wills were still in working order, and that they wouldn’t have any debts paying for the funerals.
Equally as immature, however, was the way they overreacted, I should point out, because they felt so much guilt and remorse from the ordeal, that they gave up sports altogether. They even gave up their video games, TVs, internet, comic books…the list goes on and on. You name it; they sacrificed it. Some even wanted to sell everything so that they would live the rest of their lives in nature.
“Many of them don’t even have autism like you,” I said to Cripto.
“Those are the very ways I would have overreacted back in the day, because I was being extremely harsh to myself,” said Cripto. “But I never meant what I said, even though what I said came back to bite me in the end.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it, though,” said Sam Streak (the odorless skunk that alternated with Cripto on lead guitar). “Even with your flaws, you still were a much better role model to the kids than the average heart throb.”
“I have to second him on that,” said “Mondo Mike” Strikes (the green liger drummer). “Besides, without you, I don’t think we even might have been able to form the band. We lacked a strong lead vocalist; Sam does a great job, but the punk rock he had been singing didn’t really suit the rest of us. In the end, you helped all of us find our niche.”
Cripto tried not to blush as he said, “Well, thank you. You really know how to make a tiger feel special.” We all gave hugs to him to help him feel better about the whole thing, and we got ready for the documentation that would begin the next day, although we also took some time to play a few games of 8-ball with one another.
TO BE CONTINUED
-----------------------------------------
A Third Wave of Transformations
Chapter 1
Super C speaking; I’m going to go ahead and narrate this one. This is the third large list of American individuals the C.I.D.F. (and we, the G-52s, as helpers) have been documenting as those that were formerly human, but had transformed from the CNG effects into animals. I know it bores you all to death, but you must understand that it is a necessary thing to do. Why? Many of these animals had found themselves as death targets of those going after them. There were a variety of reasons for the criminals wanting to murder them, but they all have the same thing in common: all the criminals were CNG smugglers, and CNG killed the smugglers in the end.
The first wave of transformations we documented was done in Dark Wolf’s castle, since it is also home to the G-52 HQ. All the ones we documented there had to promise us they’d forget everything about the HQ building (unless they were a rare case of actually becoming a G-52 later on), and the C.I.D.F. used their memory wiping devices. The second wave was done in Washington, D.C., making it easier for Leo the Patriotic Lion to award any awards necessary, since he was giving out more than all previous Presidents of the United States of America put together. “I must be making the manufacturers angry,” he joked. “They keep having to make them.”
So where do you think we did the third wave? Was it in the G-52 HQ? No. Was it at the White House? No; it wasn’t there either. Believe it or not, we did it in Cripto’s basement, of all places. Why? Multiple reasons: 1) Cripto was always willing to help out; he is my number one, after all; 2) the C.I.D.F. couldn’t do it at G-52 HQ because Dark Wolf was out sick with a cold, so he couldn’t hold the big parade like he wanted to do, and 3) the rainy weather we were having was making it impossible to do it outside.
“Are you okay with that?” I asked Cripto.
“I can work with that,” he replied. “While I do not like having strangers in my house, this is an exception. Besides, they’ll be safe from the people going after them. Are they going to tell us why these people are going after them?”
“Only if they volunteer that information,” I said. “Some of them don’t want their story leaked to the public.”
“My lips are sealed.”
“Good.”
As with the other two waves, we also paid for all meals and expenses that were necessary to pay for so that our guests didn’t have to worry about a thing. All of them made sure to say thank you to us, and many of them, being fans of Cripto, planned to ask for his autograph. The rest of his rock band, Furry Fury, volunteered to help out as well. “If they want his autograph,” John Parkinson (the black wolf keyboardist; he goes by J.P. for short) commented, “they’ll more than likely ask for ours.”
“Do we know if they are following in the same pattern?” Chris Jocks (the red fox bass guitarist) asked me.
“I am not sure about animal patterns,” I said, “because CNG was usually totally random. However, it did do more species than others; there are more lions and tigers than any other animal in the end, but very rarely did we end up with something along the lines of an alligator crocodile.”
“I don’t get it.”
“I don’t get it either.”
Because it was the first time Cripto and his rock band had been involved in a documentation project, the first thing I made them take note about was about the patterns we do know, which began with the musicians. It didn’t matter if a musician that underwent the transformation was a rock star like Cripto, a jazz musician like the Snare Soldier, a classically trained musician, or a drum major or marching band musician like the scores of those in the G-52s. (J.P. is also a classically trained pianist, and while Furry Fury has yet to win a Grammy for their music, or something from the American Music Awards, or AMA, J.P. has won several awards for the piano recordings he had made of Bach, Beethoven, Brahms, and Franz Liszt. “Liszt was the hardest one to do,” he said. “I didn’t think I’d still have my fingers after that.”) CNG would not accept the truth that everybody is different, unique, and special. Instead, it wanted a world where everything was the same, which would be so boring, tiresome, and lame. Thus, all musicians got the same superpowers all G-52s and allies who played any instruments and/or sang got, regardless of genre:
1. Being able to summon any instrument (and make it disappear), and play at the level of the Forsythians, who were said to be “beyond professional.” If the animal sang, they could sing professionally, and could even possibly sing operatically. (Pray hard that they don’t break any glass.)
2. Being able to manipulate sounds with one’s hands and feet, although this doesn’t always happen. The individual would really have to put their mind to it to make it happen; the one consistency, however, is that if somebody was frustrated, embarrassed, upset, or stressed about something, and they face palmed, everybody would hear an eerie piano chord.
3. Being able to summon portals that allowed one to get from place to place in a hurry. Our guests had no reason to ever do this, but they found that they could do this anyway.
4. Being able to change clothes on the fly.
In the end, it felt even more depressing because it further reinforced just how depressing CNG was making our world. Even with it gone, we still have a long way to go, for the effects of its aftermath will take tens of thousands of years to wear off. However, since it is gone for good, the human race is safe from the unwanted transformations; it is not safe, however, from possible instant death, because the supernatural forces picking up where it left off, which the C.I.D.F. are giving the codename “Invisible CNG 2.0,” is still killing humans it thinks is worthy of the death penalty, and unlike CNG, it doesn’t have a conscience. If any innocent lives have been taken, it won’t be reversible.
The best example of innocent lives being taken would be when all those immature teenagers down in Houston, TX, bought jerseys of the French basketball player Steeve Ho You Fat (that really is his name), just because they couldn’t stop snickering or making innuendos about the name. When their parents and siblings found out about it, all of them suddenly died on the spot, leaving the teens as orphans. Since then, all the teens have done nothing but community service (as well as lose any scholarship opportunities they would have had), and attorneys were working overtime to ensure the wills were still in working order, and that they wouldn’t have any debts paying for the funerals.
Equally as immature, however, was the way they overreacted, I should point out, because they felt so much guilt and remorse from the ordeal, that they gave up sports altogether. They even gave up their video games, TVs, internet, comic books…the list goes on and on. You name it; they sacrificed it. Some even wanted to sell everything so that they would live the rest of their lives in nature.
“Many of them don’t even have autism like you,” I said to Cripto.
“Those are the very ways I would have overreacted back in the day, because I was being extremely harsh to myself,” said Cripto. “But I never meant what I said, even though what I said came back to bite me in the end.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it, though,” said Sam Streak (the odorless skunk that alternated with Cripto on lead guitar). “Even with your flaws, you still were a much better role model to the kids than the average heart throb.”
“I have to second him on that,” said “Mondo Mike” Strikes (the green liger drummer). “Besides, without you, I don’t think we even might have been able to form the band. We lacked a strong lead vocalist; Sam does a great job, but the punk rock he had been singing didn’t really suit the rest of us. In the end, you helped all of us find our niche.”
Cripto tried not to blush as he said, “Well, thank you. You really know how to make a tiger feel special.” We all gave hugs to him to help him feel better about the whole thing, and we got ready for the documentation that would begin the next day, although we also took some time to play a few games of 8-ball with one another.
TO BE CONTINUED
A Third Wave of Transformations (Chapter 1)
A second sequel to my stories of C.I.D.F. documentation, which consists of the C.I.D.F. documenting every individual that was once a human being, but had been transformed into an anthro animal permanently from the CNG effects. The purpose is to figure out why CNG did this to the specific individual, and also to keep them safe from the forces of evil. It also will allow SuperCat to see if he has any potential new recruits in the G-52 Organization, since both organizations are sister organizations to one another. The story was based on my experience using Bing Image Creator, but FurAffinity doesn't allow AI-generated art. (Using it did help me somewhat because I cannot draw.)
Due to inclement weather, Cripto's basement ends up being the site of the documentation. Dark Wolf's health also prevents him from being able to hold the big parade he wants to hold until after all is said and done.
This is Chapter 1.
Leo the Patriotic Lion, G-52 Organization, C.I.D.F., etc. © me and me alone
UN1024s, GSAF, AIRAF, etc. ©
Chuong alone; parallels of him are joint-owned by him and me
All other media referenced belongs to everybody who owns the rights; I own nothing.
Next: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/55620713/
Story details:
G-52 organization, Drumbums, Circus of the Superstars, and other such groups © me and me alone.
Some G-52s are joint-owned by me and Chuong; see my bios gallery for which is which.
UN1024s, AIRAF, GSAF, Royal Pagans, and other such groups © Chuong alone
D-19 ©
16weeks
Blue, Toppet Kingdom, etc. ©
BlueMario1016
G-52 logo drawn by
zakavatarz; the world of Noah and all associates thereof © him and him alone
Current icon of me drawn by
pimpartist
Any canon characters mentioned © all who own the rights.
All music, movies, or television shows referenced © all who own the rights
Due to inclement weather, Cripto's basement ends up being the site of the documentation. Dark Wolf's health also prevents him from being able to hold the big parade he wants to hold until after all is said and done.
This is Chapter 1.
Leo the Patriotic Lion, G-52 Organization, C.I.D.F., etc. © me and me alone
UN1024s, GSAF, AIRAF, etc. ©
Chuong alone; parallels of him are joint-owned by him and meAll other media referenced belongs to everybody who owns the rights; I own nothing.
Next: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/55620713/
Story details:
G-52 organization, Drumbums, Circus of the Superstars, and other such groups © me and me alone.
Some G-52s are joint-owned by me and
Chuong; see my bios gallery for which is which.UN1024s, AIRAF, GSAF, Royal Pagans, and other such groups ©
Chuong aloneD-19 ©
16weeksBlue, Toppet Kingdom, etc. ©
BlueMario1016G-52 logo drawn by
zakavatarz; the world of Noah and all associates thereof © him and him aloneCurrent icon of me drawn by
pimpartistAny canon characters mentioned © all who own the rights.
All music, movies, or television shows referenced © all who own the rights
Category Story / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Gender Any
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 8.5 kB
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