Six Guys no more (Tamamo cat Waitress Tg) Draft

Hi there, my name is Ta… well, it was Antonio. That's the name I was known by until a little while ago. I’ve been flipping burgers at Five Guys for the better part of two years now. It’s not the dream job, but it keeps the bills paid and the fridge somewhat stocked. The smell of grease has become a constant in my life, mingling with the scent of freshly cut potatoes and the occasional burnt bun. It’s a symphony of smells, one that I’ve grown oddly fond of.

Today started like any other day—clock in, tie the apron, and get to work. The grill sizzled beneath my spatula as I pressed down on a patty, the juices hissing as they hit the hot surface. The lunch rush was in full swing, with a line snaking out the door. It was in this chaos, amidst the clatter of fries being tossed into baskets and sodas fizzing into cups, that she walked in.

She was a peculiar sight amidst the sea of hungry customers—a girl with eyes that darted around the room like she was searching for something, or perhaps someone. Her gaze finally settled on the counter, then on the menu board overhead, and finally, on the crew working behind the counter.

I noticed her furrowed brow as she counted, her lips moving silently. One, two, three, four, five... and then, her eyes widened as she counted the sixth member of our team, who had just clocked in for his shift. Confusion turned to irritation, and then, as if propelled by a sudden gust of indignation, she marched straight up to the counter, where I was stationed.

“Excuse me,” she began, her tone laced with an accusation, “but isn’t this place called Five Guys?”

I nodded, already knowing where this was going. “Yes, ma’am. How can I help you today?”

Her hands planted firmly on the counter, she leaned forward slightly. “Then why are there six guys working here? That’s false advertising. It’s misleading!”

I couldn’t help but let a small, amused smile play at the corners of my mouth. It wasn’t the first time someone had pointed out the numerical discrepancy, but it was certainly the first time anyone had seemed genuinely upset about it.

“Well, the name ‘Five Guys’ actually refers to the original five brothers who started the chain,” I explained, trying to keep the tone light and informative. “It’s not meant to be a literal headcount of the staff on duty.”

But she was having none of it. Her eyes narrowed, a mix of skepticism and annoyance flaring up. “That’s convenient, isn’t it? What if I opened a restaurant called ‘One Girl’ and then hired a dozen people? Wouldn’t that be confusing?”

I paused, momentarily caught off guard by the comparison. “I suppose it might be at first. But it’s really about the brand, not the number of people working. Our goal here is to serve great burgers and fries, no matter how many of us it takes to get the job done.”

“This won’t do, this won't do!” she continued, her frustration mounting, practically vibrating with discontent. She then fixed me with a glare that could have melted steel, and I let out a weary sigh. The line behind her was growing restless, a chorus of murmurs swelling like a wave ready to crash. "I am sorry, but you are holding up the line. Could you perhaps tell me what sort of menu you would like?"

Her response was not at all what I expected. With a flourish that seemed almost theatrical, she reached into her jacket and pulled out a slender, intricately carved wand. My skepticism must have shown on my face, because she smirked, a knowing look in her eyes that sent a chill down my spine.

Without another word, she waved her wand in a broad arc. A ripple of energy swept through the air, tangible and electric, and in an instant, the bustling restaurant fell eerily silent. I turned to look over my shoulder and saw that every customer, as if under a collective trance, had turned on their heels and walked out the door, leaving their orders and complaints behind.

I faced her again, my heart pounding in my chest. "What did you just do?" I demanded, my voice coming out more as a whisper than the stern rebuke I had intended.

She leaned in, her eyes glinting with mischief. "I can't bear inconsistency, your random sixth burger guy. And I believe in making my complaints... notable."

Before I could respond, she pointed her wand directly at me. Panic surged through me, a voice in my head screaming to run, to duck, to do anything but stand there. But I was rooted to the spot, transfixed by the sight of the wand and the power it had already displayed.

"I know a way to fix your little naming problem," she said, her voice soft but laced with an edge that made me believe this was no mere jest. "You need a mascot, something... memorable."

And with a flick of her wrist and a murmur of words too soft to catch, the world around me spun. A sensation unlike anything I had ever experienced enveloped me, a feeling of being pulled, stretched and pressed in an instant and all at the same time. It really felt like something was forcefully molding me.

The simplest way to describe what went through my head at that moment was: Everything was getting bigger. No matter where I looked, it was getting bigger. No matter what I focused on, it was getting bigger.

I have never been a particularly tall person in any sense of the word, but then just everything around me became so much bigger and more intimidating, that I really wished to have been a tall person. Like now I was suddenly only around the height of the girl in front of me, which was slightly distressing.

Then, just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, my body started to get pulled into two different ways. It was like something was gripping tightly onto each of my pecs and each of my buttcheeks, and then just pulled them apart. and that resulted in them just getting bigger and bigger, wobbling around more and more with every pull.

In my confusion and panic, I tried to use my hands to at least stop my chest from becoming oversized breasts, but then even they started to grow. Fur quickly started to spread first only around my wrists and palms, which were starting to look very swollen and large at this point, but then the fur just completely enveloped my entire hand up to halfway down my arm, fingers included.

Speaking of fingers, it was kinda hard calling them that, as the nails grew out significantly and a pink paw pad appeared on my palm, almost as if to mockingly signify that they were now inhuman. I didn’t have hands anymore, I had paws.

All this time my breasts and butt were still growing by the way, both having already long overtaken the rather flat appearance of the girl in front of me. Though just when I was thinking that, she was apparently also thinking the same thing, as her eyes wandered to my chest, then to hers, then back to mine. Then she became pissed off again, pointed her wand towards my crotch… and that's how my sausage became burger buns.

Next it was my head, who was getting the ‘embiggening’ treatment. My ears were literally yanked to the side and forced to grow longer and pointier, before they were yanked upwards to be placed on top of my head. Which also didn’t stay the same for long, as my usually uninteresting shade of brown turned into a bright pink to firmly shine throughout the restaurant, even before the invisible force pulled it longer and bigger like almost everything else about me.

Thankfully, after that, the spell was pretty much over, so I finally found a moment to breathe again. Yeah, my uniform which was partly torn due to the aforementioned size increases, transformed into this mockery of a uniform I am wearing right now, so no, I didn’t put this one out of my own volition. That being said, it is cute and I for some reason don't mind wearing it now.

“Now this is more like it!” The girl spoke, a sly grin on her face seemingly proud of herself. That was the first time I was able to check myself out, although what the girl said next actually summarized my situation quite well. “There. Now you truly have a unique mascot. And don't worry, Tamamo. This form comes with a few... perks. Hehehe~”

“You will always try to look sexy. Any uniform you put on will automatically transform into a uniform more fitting for your current body. And finally, whenever you speak to a customer, you will add a ‘nya~’ to your sentences to make yourself seem cuter.” she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Because Five Guys plus Maskot girl is way better than ruining the integrity of your brand.”

And with that, she left leaving me, George and Phil in a state of absolute confusion, as none of us had any idea of what to make of the situation. And yeah, I have been bouncing, smiling and serving ever since.

Though that’s when a friend of mine told me that there was a thing like a police department for magical incidents, so we immediately gave you a call, officer. And that brings us to right now. Any questions you would like me to answer?

…

Well, to see the curse in action really only what needs to happen is for a customer to want to order food, then I kinda go into cutesy cat mode immediately. Also, no, I am a cat girl, not a fox girl. Get your animals straight. After all, I go by Tamamo cat now, it's even written on my magically generated uniform.

…

You want to order…? Nya~ Of course, no problems dear officer, nya~ I promise we will make the most wonderful burger and the best fries in town just for you sir, nya~

Tamamo cat mascot guar-nyan-tee~

—

You shouldn't advertise what you don’t provide. It might have Cat-tastrophic ramifications.

Made as a trade story with VtSparks