Prompt: Lisa's Thanksgiving Melt

Summary: A normal girl who receives omni shapeshifting powers through a meteorite starts to get her bearings while single handedly preparing a Thanksgiving feast using only her body but still maintaining her secret

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[Story Listing]

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Lisa was cursing her terrible luck. It was bad enough that she had been hit by a radioactive meteor on one of her walks through the park, reducing her body to an amorphous consistency that ranged from gelatin to taffy. That was going to be a whole lifestyle change, all due to a cosmically infinitesimal chance of being at the very wrong place at the extremely wrong time.

But it was really the timing of it all that frustrated her. It was Thanksgiving weekend, and she was hosting her relatives this year! She'd never done that sort of thing before, but after landing a cushy new job as a pay account consultant, she thought she could handle it, go all out with the feast! But now she had a whole new body to grapple with, and she really wished she had another week or two to work out the kinks! At least she still had her hair straightened out...

Just the idea of hosting a big dinner was enough to get her sweating bullets, but the extra challenge of navigating a body that shifted, elongated, and melted on its own had her sweating buckets... well, buckets of herself.

She was a mess. Lisa spent hours in front of the mirror the day prior, trying to press her body back into shape to resemble something like her typical self. But her skin was so shiny, as if she was leaking massage oil from every pore, and she found herself constantly losing focus when she massaged herself. Her unsteady legs would frequently collapse underneath her, and she'd ooze through the floor... she had actually taken to oozing around as a form of locomotion, but there wasn't anything to be done until she could firm herself up. And she'd have no time to practice how she presented herself.

The solution, she settled on, was to lock herself up in the kitchen, and handle the entire meal herself and letting her relatives take over the TV room; hopefully the big football game would keep them sufficiently distracted so as not to hear the noises she made as she moved about.

The morning of, Lisa realized that her relatives would be a nosy sort, so she needed a barrier between herself and them. Thankfully, she decided to repurpose her bedroom door as well as her closet door; her hand was capable of oozing around the door hinges, twisting the screws free. She dropped them into a nearby drawer and hoisted the door, eager to make a pair of makeshift doors that would block kitchen access. At least this way she'd have some privacy...

Though she struggled with forming feet, she managed to cram her legs (which seemed more like shiny, soft tentacles) into some pants and shoes. If she walked carefully and with purpose, she could play off her strange gait as a minor sprain, fetching drinks for the guests. She was especially worried about the tightness in her jeans; she struggled to hold her melty body at bay, which seemed eager to ooze through the seams of her pants.

After exchanging greetings and ensuring everyone was satisfied, she hurried to the kitchen, collapsing to the floor in a squishy heap. They all arrived super early, and she was still preparing the damn turkey. It sat on the counter, all twelve pounds of it, menacingly.

She grumbled, reaching inside to pull out the innards; her hand seemed to effortlessly slide in. She blinked as she felt her hand swelling, pressing against the insides of the turkey, the bird bulging slightly. She stirred her hand, wet slick sounds punctuating her movements. Her body tingled in a pleasant way, the sensation concentrating in her forearm; as she focused, she saw tiny bulges travel up the length of her arm, disappearing into her torso.

She drew her hand back, the tip narrowed into a tendril, before reforming fingers. She looked inside the turkey... the undesirable innards were all gone! Yet she couldn't deny the sensation of pleasant, warm fullness that invaded her being. She grimaced, hoping she wouldn't get sick from all that raw poultry... not to mention that her grandma would be disappointed. She always liked taking the gizzards home for... whatever she did with them.

Even with the turkey in the oven, the myriad other things that needed doing weighed on her mind. Her frazzled mind drifted to all the chores she had to do... and a curious thought arose to her: why not do everything?

Her body shifted, responding to her idea as she raised her arms in front of her. Seams appeared along the length of her arms, her fingers pressing and melding together, before they split into tendrils all on their own, lashing about in front of her. She focused, feeling how they controlled, how the molecules comprising them shifted, ebbed and flowed. She wondered if she had a big enough brain for handling so many limbs, but she curtly reminded herself that she no longer had a brain, really. If she did, then her entire body was a nerve center in and of itself.

Splitting into a dozen tentacles, her arms zipped about the kitchen. Over a cutting board, she began to slice potatoes, carrots, parsnips, and other vegetables... only her fleshy tentacle had narrowed at the bottom into a sharp blade, sharper than any she had on her knife rack! Slicing through veggies was a breeze, and she moved so fast! She didn't notice her blade arm slicing clean through another tentacle resting on the countertop, as all she really felt was a pinching sensation, before the chopped up bits, resembling fleshy taffy, melted, oozing back into her skin.

Another lashing tentacle had fashioned its tip into a whisk of sorts, eagerly beating at some whipping cream to form the key accompaniment to a pumpkin pie. And she was even doing the dishes, all at the same time! She twisted her torso in a pretzel formation, gawking at her seemingly effortless control, her incredible body twisting about the room to marvel at her multitasking ability. She felt like a Disney princess in a musical number, only she was being aided by an alien symbiotic mutation instead of singing animals.

She stifled a chuckle, feeling herself freed up to brave her relatives. She looked into a steel frying pan, studying her reflection. She wondered if she could press herself into a human form long enough to trick the relatives that there was no funny business going on...

It seemed so impossible the night prior, but now, anything seemed possible. Maybe this life-changing mutation wouldn't be so bad, she wondered, feeling her puddled lower body pulling into a comfortable, pear-shaped waist.