Title: Curses and Kitty Litter

Author: Razberry

Rating: PG

Genre: Humor

Warnings: None this chapter

Summary: After angering an Ancient Egyptian spirit, Danny finds himself going through some very unusual changes… and realizes he must rely on some very unusual companions for help.

Notes: Woo! Part two! I'm on a roll! Anyone else see Reality Trip the other night? I really liked it. I'm not a Freakshow or Guys in White fan, but the thing with Dash and Paulina was nice, and so was the thing with Danny's parents. I don't think it's my favorite movie (I wish there were more characters in it), but it was good. Anywho, on with the fic!

A number in (parentheses) indicates an explanation/definition at the end of the chapter, kay?

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Danny groggily lifted his head from the cold concrete floor of the lab.

Unngh… How long was I out? He turned to look at the computer clock, but found himself gazing at a chair leg instead. Wha-?

"Mom? Dad?" Danny tried to call out, but he found he couldn't speak properly. Instead, all that came out was a high pitched whine. Danny felt himself begin to panic.

It's OK, Danny. Get a hold of yourself. You can't talk, and you seem to be a lot smaller than you were. You just have to figure out what exactly did this, and reverse it. Yeah. Danny took a few deep breaths and headed for the (much bigger) stairs. He took two steps and fell flat on his face. He yowled involuntarily.

Ow! How did that happen? Danny looked down, suddenly realizing he didn't have two legs to stand on. He had four. And they weren't legs. They were paws. The panic he had been suppressing exploded.

OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod. He chanted inside his head as he scrambled crazily across the room to the mirror. In his panic, he skidded into the reflective glass; Danny was momentarily knocked silly.

Right. Calm down. Look around. Danny regained his composure, looked in the mirror, and nearly lost it again. In the mirror, where Danny Fenton should have been, was a small, black cat. A cat! I'm a CAT!

OK, I can deal with this. I just have to find Bast and figure out how to get back to normal.

Danny, feeling a little better now that he had a (very) vague plan, decided the first step was just to get out of the house. He doubted Bast had gone back into the Ghost Portal; all Danny had to do look for the most chaos in one spot, and chances were Bast would be around.

Carefully, Danny put one paw forward. So far so good. Now two, three, four, one, two, three… He stumbled. This was harder than it seemed. He tried again, and tripped halfway to the stairs.

Don't I at least get some cat instincts, here? Danny griped mentally. He concentrated a little harder, and felt a tiny tingling at the back of his consciousness. Danny latched onto it and took another few steps, this time using his tail for balance. It worked. By the time he made it to the stairs, he was having no trouble walking on all fours. Yes! I've got it!

He dashed lightly up the stairs, padded confidently to the door, and… realized he couldn't open it.

Darn it! Danny paced the front hall, his tail twitching agitatedly. Let's see… the kitchen window pushes out, if it's unlocked… Danny ran to the kitchen and hopped onto the counter. Woah! I just jumped, like, five times my height! That is so cool! …Right, focus.

The kitchen window sat right above the sink, where a pile of greasy dishes soaked in the soapy water. Danny frowned and gingerly reached out toward the tap. He moved his hind leg so it rested awkwardly on the windowsill; his other hind leg stayed on the counter, and his left front paw hovered above the soapy dishes. Danny tensed and kicked off the counter, hoping his new cat body would instinctively twist and land neatly on the sill. Unfortunately, his cat instincts still seemed to be on hiatus; Danny's paw slipped from the tap and he fell with a splash into the dishwater.

Danny yowled loudly and scrambled to right himself. His claws made a terrible screech as they scratched at one of the plates; his hind legs frantically kicked dishes out of the sink where they shattered on the floor. Danny felt his eyes burn as the soapy suds splashed into them. He tried to lunge out of the sink and banged his head hard against the tap. Finally, he managed to grasp the windowsill; his fur was heavy with water, his muscles ached from exertion, and his eyes stung from the dish soap, but he was at the window.

And I'm not even out of the house yet. He thought wryly.

Danny lifted a sopping wet paw and pushed against the window. It didn't budge. He tried two. The window creaked a bit, but still wouldn't open. Frustrated, Danny rammed his whole body against the glass. It swung wide open and Danny tumbled out the window with a yowl.

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"Danny?" Sam called out. She knocked loudly on the Fenton's front door. "Danny, open up!"

"Maybe he's downstairs?" Tucker suggested.

It was plausible, Sam supposed, that Danny just couldn't hear them. She hoped that was the case. Still… she tried the door. It swung open with an ominous creak.

"Danny?" She tried again. Tucker motioned for her to go inside. Sam stepped into the front room, and Tucker followed.

"Hey, man, are you here?" Tucker yelled into the basement stairwell. There was no reply.

"Tucker, come here!" Sam's panicked voice called from the kitchen. The dark skinned boy ran to where Sam stood, horrified. The kitchen was a disaster area. Broken dishes and water covered the tiled floor, and the window was wide open. Sam and Tucker apprehensively moved to the sink. Sam let out a terrified gasp and pointed at the tap. Tucker's eyes widened. On the corner of the faucet were a few drops of red liquid.

"Blood?" Tucker leaned closer, hoping it was just cherry syrup.

"There's more over here," Sam indicated the windowsill. "This isn't a good sign, Tucker. What if someone broke in?"

"Danny could handle a burglar- it's gotta be ghost related."

Sam took a few deep breaths to calm the panic she could feel rising within her.

"Let's check out the lab," she finally suggested. "If ghosts are involved, there might be something there."

Tucker nodded. The two of them made their way to the basement, where they discovered a multitude of broken equipment. A workbench had been smashed nearly in half, and a shelf had tipped on its side, where it threatened to spill its contents onto the floor.

"Yeah, it's ghost related," Tucker affirmed. Sam shot him a dirty look; he ignored it. "Hey, what's this?" Tucker bent down and picked up a gold object(1).

"Let me see!" Sam snatched the item from Tucker's grasp and shoved him away. "It's… a necklace or collar of some kind." Tucker tried to take it back; Sam slapped his hands away and examined the necklace closer. "Look, there's an inscription on the inside. It looks Egyptian."

Tucker peered over her shoulder. "How do you know?"

"What's it look like to you, then?"

"…Egyptian."

"All right then. Let's see if we can translate this- it might tell us what happened to Danny." Sam pocketed the necklace and headed upstairs.

"To the internet!"

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(1) Pretend Bast's necklace actually came off in the fight, kay? I'm too lazy to go back and fix it right now.

End Notes: Man, they just missed each other, didn't they? Too bad. Better luck next time, guys. Poor Danny. He's having a rough time of it. Where'd the blood come from? It's really dumb, I'll tell you that right now. Anywho, review, blah, blah…

Also, to Chaotic Deception: I'm gonna try to answer some of your questions. One, I don't see the OOCness (but I'm writing, so I'm biased). As far as I know, Sam does not live next door to Danny (the Mansons hate the Fentons, I can't see them living that close), and I'm assuming Sam & Tuck are walking as they can't drive. Plus I needed time for Danny to get out of the house. And if you do see spelling errors, please tell me. I'm rather nitpicky about that myself, and I'd hate to be a hypocrite. Anyway, I hope you keep reading.