Smoked to Aged Toonfection (Outline)

• Yang is looking over the contract twice more and then at the stuffy suits before him at the table.
• “Youse get what we needs, right?” “Yours cooperation is appreciated if you join.” “You’lls be well compensated ands taken care of.”
• ‘Ah-huh…’ The man reads over the contract one more time. It’s… not a big and complicated contract to understand to say the least.
• ‘Please be our mascot. Form, figure, lounging, and everything provided.’ Basic jist of it. Become a toon mascot for this company’s line of products.
• “Are you sure this is the right thing to do?” “Youse questionin’ ours judgement!?” One of the weasels in the business suits said. “We’s the expert consultation agency dat knows what’s needed for da good of da companies dat hired us!”
• “If you say so.” The whole thing was ridiculous to Yang… but he definitely needed a new job that could afford rent and stuff like this paid well… at least according to his cousin, who also did this work
• Yang signed on the dotted line at the bottom of the contract and handed it back to the three toon weasels. “Alright. I signed. Now what?”
• “Nows we needs ta see ya in da role!” One pulls out a toon cigar and stuffs it into the guy’s hand
• “Smoke dis!” “But I don’t smoke?” “In da contract, in da superfineprint, youse said youse do whatever it tooks ta get inta da role. So, get inta role!”
• The toon lit it up and the strong aroma from it wafted up into Yang’s nose. “This isn’t gonna makes me sicks or anythang, is it?”
• “Tsk, ‘course it ain’t! Toons don’t make stuff dat’ll makes youse sick!”
• More smoke up the nose as Yang listens, his nose darkens and turns shiny.
• Yang sighs and goes for it, wanting to get this over with. He takes a whiff
• Coughs a little, teeth pearly white and shiny. Lips turn black and gummy a little
• “Sooooo?” “Well, I don’t think I’lls become a smo-” FWOMP!
• Face shorts forward into a red, fuzzy muzzle
• Yang pauses and remarks, “I’s think I’lls become a smoker at dis rate. Dis was good!”
• Yang isn’t sure what to say since his mouth is moving on his own… yet, it still feels somehow right to say all of that.
• “Dat’s good ta hear! Keep smokin’! We’s wanna assess your new look!”
• Yang twitches. Keep smoking? Yes sir!
• He takes a big puff, no coughing. His cheeks swell and face stretches on the sides for pudgy, wide toon head shape.
• He blows, head fully reshaping into a toony bear’s noggin, followed by ears, eyebrows, and white circles with black dots for eyes
• As his hair turns reddish pink, he remarks on the good cigar
• “Ands youse can smoke all da ones you wants when we really start! Just keep smokin’.”
• No need to tell him twice. Yang took another drag… even bigger!
• His arms arms inflated into pudgy bear arms, belly popping a little out of his shirt and pants
• He blows it out and gets chubbier, thicker legs, wider butt and lighter red fur on the stomach and front with darker red fur around everywhere else
• He smokes again, shoes pop to reveal large bear feet
• Blowing out, he’s a bit wider and a bunch taller. Bear tail pops out
• The new bear toon is complete and fast. The toon weasels congratulate themselves on finding a good candidate.
• Yang Bear asks about what next. The weasels explain the company they’re working for has lots of regular products they sell from food to towels to furniture, the whole works. A bear like him could offer a lot of potential as a face for everything.
• Yang asks about if they make toilet paper. The weasel says they do but they might not use him since “it’s been done.”
• Yang smokes more, but doesn’t grow anymore. He’s just happy to work and enjoy his cigar
• A toon weasal pulls out a cigar of his own to light up after his hard work.
• Once lit up, Yang notices the cigar and something trembled. His hand launches forward and snaps up the cigar, shoving it in the mouth alongside his other
• The weasel snaps for stealing for him as Yang smokes. He couldn’t help it. He needed more. The new cigar has its own rich flavor and it goes very well with his own
• Yang smokes… and his reddish pink hair grays. The weasels look confused
• Yang blows the smoke, grey hairs on his chest and arms. “What’s da problem, boys?”
• The weasels consult each other privately before saying there is no problem and to continue on
• Yang does so, gray hair growing over his muzzle for a beard, over his chest, and forming a happy trail from his crotch to belly button
• He blows both cigars and loves the rich taste of them together, saying the weasels should try it sometimes. They politely decline
• Yang smokes again, body getting bigger.
• Belly fully pops out, moobs large, and body wider. Bulge in his pants even bigger
• A bit more growth and pop, toon glasses pop on his muzzle, his vision better than before when it was oddly declining.
• The older bear toon sighs and asks them for more cigars, since one is about done.
• The weasels talk to each other again and smirk. Apparently, they have a brand-new idea for promotion that he may like. How about products for older men?
• “What about da other stuff?” “We’s can do dat too! We’s just thinkin’ dat a bear of your stature and size mays be interested in stuff dey like~.”
• The bear scratches his belly. Hmmm… older stuff. Well, he didn’t know why, but that sounded fine to him. Anything to help dese whippersnappers out in deir fancy, youngin’ suits.”
• THE END?