That wasn't even my final form. Righteous indignation. I am now comfortable with my way of being. A thousand ways to die, a thousand ways to be reborn. Pleasant elation. Yes, I shall enjoy your squidishness.
Too black and white. Maybe if they spent more time out in the sun and ate anything besides ink and the trace amount of imagination I have left. I am open to individuals lucky enough to have grown extra limbs, however. Octopi shouldn't be the only ones able to grab the whole kitchen set at once.
The dog had in a previous life been known as Steven Spielsberg; not the award winning director, but a different Jewish guy who got famous in a film school for his parody of Jaws.
As long as my losing that memory doesn't result in a never ending slope of mistakes then, sure. On second thought, no, if I'm going to forget things it's gonna be the natural way!
You become a god. Just another in a pantheon of Gods who rule over different aspects of life like making horror...
Fuck, no. I already know the cutest cat. So there!
You get a new friend
But
A random person you know but don't particularly like forgets all languages they know and begins purring like a kitten. Otherwise, they function normally.
Maybe, if he would disregard what I seem to look like on the outside and accept me for the sexy goddess I am. If it's illegal in your country, move to mine. I promise I will only shed on the clothes that make you look like you're trying to hide in a crowd of people and dare people to try and...