Looking and the giant in front of him, and feeling the quakes as Billy's mad laughter shook his tiny form violently. "Well there, No-name, let's see where the road takes you, shall we?"

Peter desperately wanted to say something, to the effect of 'please, no, oh God, don't do this', but whatever verbal skills he had possessed as a human being were now lost to him. When the potato-head opened his tiny mouth to preposterous proportions, raising Peter up into the air to hang above the open maw.

Screeching, Peter tried to make his protest very clear, but it just made Billy laugh even harder. The fingers released, and what had once been the very average and ordinary 'Peter' fell into the abyss.

There was no 'crunch' from teeth, or any kind of obstacle, really, to his fall. There was only darkness. It seemed like it lasted for an eternity, then a flash of light yellow disturbed his inoculated state of existence. The fall ended abruptly when Peter landed upon a very hard surface with a gentle 'plop'. This sudden change in reality was followed by a brutal hammer of light hitting his poor eyeballs.

Before the world changed back into a somewhat recognizable form, the light took on a hue of burning red, then to a slightly softer magenta, before finally arriving at an orange-like texture which was barely tolerable.

The air was dry, approaching, arid, as he desperately sucked in breath after breath. Whatever Billy had done to him, at least he was not currently residing in the stomach of the strange little man. After taking some time to come to terms with his present conditions, Peter finally brought forth the courage to inspect himself.

Scaly limbs met his immediate inspection, when he tried to look at his hands. He had none of the dexterity he was used to, and had to crane his neck strangely just to look at his limbs. Looking at his 'hands' also gave him a good look at his scaly stomach, a set of 'feet' looking much like his hands, and ending in a long tail, narrowing at the tip.

The sight made his eyes blur, and he had a strong desire to vomit again. This can't be happening... It's just a dream... just a dream...

However, the heat felt very real. As did his new body, with its contact to the dry ground. Gingerly, he tried to stand up - failed to stand on hindlegs, as he was used to - before he finally accepted his quadropedic reality. Turning slowly in circle, Peter met with his next big surprise.

Two small eyes in a huge head slovenly observed his reaction, as the shock caused him to instinctually jump as fast he could backwards.

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"Weeeell," drawled the massive creature, "Thaat's neeeew."

Peter opened his mouth to answer, but failed to produce any sounds of a linguistic nature. Instead, a lot of hissing, spitting, and generally unsavory sounds escaped his tongue.

"Yoou gootta stooop thinking like a huuuman," the beast said, raising its head back up and tilting it an angle, such only one eyes kept a close watch on Peter's small form, "Noooo oone staays huuuman heere for looong."

Adapting to this new existence was difficult enough as it was, especially when everything was just so incredibly wrong. He did, however, slowly come to realize the monster he was speaking to was nothing more than a giant ox - well, giant, relative to his own size.

"It taaakes time," the ox said, good-naturedly, "Dooon't wooory tooo much. I seee yoour cooompanion is heere as weeell. Heelloooo."

Turning in a quick circle, beginning to get a hang of his new body, Peter saw another big creature standing beside him. Not only was this one many times his size, it had huge tusks sticking out of its mouth, from which a disturbing amount of saliva escaped its maw.

Although Peter recognized this creature as a warthog, it had at least two features which he suspected ordinary warthog generally lacked; first, it had a coat of floral white, making it stand out in the orange-tinged surroundings, and second, it had upon its small, flat brow a tall tophat of remarkable manufacture.

"Blilly," Peter sputtered, his surprise at seeing the creature so huge it momentarily made him forget he was not human anymore.

"Tis I," the warthog proclaimed, in a voice so deep it made everything around it rumble, "Once renowned as the magnificent Billy, I am now in possession of the majestic name of 'Artois'!"

The change, not only in voice, but also in demeanor, was such that Peter kept forgetting he was human no longer, "Sho you'rs notch Blilly?"

The warthog looked down upon him with a condescending glare, saying, "A new form demands a new name. Tell me, little lizard, what is your name?"

Oh god, I am a lizard, aren't I, Peter thought, stunned momentarily. Then he regained his cold-blooded wits and said, "I'm Phether!"

"Feather? What an odd and unremarkable name for a lizard. Very well, Feather, I - the imperial Artois - greet your insignificant self on this arduous path you have set yourself upon."

"Greeetings, Feeeather and Artooois," said the ox, startling the lizard now known as 'Feather', whose lizard-like attention span had let the continued existence of the massive beast evaporate from his mind.

"And to you, honorable guardian of this great desert of soul-crushing solitude. Do you have any suggestions for the path ahead? This insignificant little lizard must walk the road."

"Waith," the 'insignificant lizard' objected, "My name ith notch Feather, itch Phether..!"

"Seize your useless prattling, Feather. You have already introduced yourself, no need to keep trying to get my royal attention. Now, guardian, what do you suggest this pathetic creature before you do?"

"Yooou shooul listen tooo yoour cooompanion, Feeather," scolded the mild-mannered ox, "Yooou aare luucky tooo haave oone, aafter aall. I myself aaam stuuuck heere becaaause I looost myy cooompanion waaay baack wheen..."

The form now known as Feather felt this was all very unfair and extremely patronizing, especially when the two chastizing him were ten to twenty times bigger than he was.