Your Animal Instinct

The nurse uniform was a lie. A complete and utter fabrication. You click expecting certain things, right? With tags like that, a promise gets made. What you get is a personality quiz. Like something from a dead social media feed, but with clip art of a woman in a vaguely medical looking top. Her tits are big, sure. Drawn with that glossy, airbrushed look that makes you think of a pop-up ad from ten years ago. They just sit there, completely static, while you answer questions about whether you’d rather howl at the moon or swim in a river. I picked the wolf. Obviously. The game told me I’m a loyal pack animal with a wild side. Groundbreaking stuff. My furry desires, it said, involve a need for connection and a howl that echoes in the night. I stared at the screen for a solid minute. The disconnect is so jarring it almost loops back around to being fascinating. You’re looking at this massive, unmoving pair of cartoon breasts, and the text is giving you a horoscope written by someone who just discovered spirit animals. The sound of my own breathing was the only soundtrack. No effects, no moans, just the quiet hum of my laptop fan and the click of the mouse. Click. Are you more of a lone wolf or a social butterfly? Click. What’s your ideal den? The voice acting was entirely in my head, a bored narrator reading the results in a monotone. My enjoyment didn’t just flatline, it never even registered a pulse. The erotic appeal is like a screensaver. You see the shapes, the suggestion of a thing, but the moment you try to interact, you just wake the monitor up to an empty spreadsheet. The visual artistry is a masterclass in doing the bare minimum. A single, unblinking image that has nothing to do with anything. It’s a test, all right. A test of patience. I forgot what I was talking about halfway through. Something about a bear. I think I got the bear on my second try. It said I was solitary and loved honey. The nurse just kept smiling her empty smile, her uniform a broken covenant. A perfect, polished nothing. Maybe that’s the real furry desire. The desire for the quiz to actually end.

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