"Oh come on!" I groan.

The cashier in front of me gives a helpless shrug even as his face elongates and his greasy store uniform shirt tears open at the shoulders. His mouth protrudes into a dripping maw. His ears stretch back and become pointed. I watch in disgust as his skin, previously dotted with acne craters, erupts with bristles of coarse brown hair. After about two hellishly slow minutes of transforming, the man in front of me has become a werewolf, pinning me with his yellow-green stare.

I tap my foot impatiently.

"Well?" I say, my irritation growing by the second.

The werewolf's ears droop. I pull out my wallet as he begins the slow process of trying to bag my items without tearing anything with his gleaming claws. He doesn't succeed, and I wince as he gouges deep slashes in my carefully selected peaches. Saliva dribbles out of his jaws and onto the fruit as he nods an apology.

I know. It's not really his fault, and it's not something he can control. I should have checked the moon calendar, but I figured I had enough time to pop in and out of the store to get dinner without incident. Clearly I was mistaken, and I was paying dearly for my mistake. Since his transformation began, I could feel a nagging, involuntary twitch in my own face, a sensation that I was horribly familiar with. I dreaded what was about to come.

It started as a contagion. No one realized becoming a werewolf would be quite so easy. Unlike vampires or zombies, there was no biting or bloodsucking involved. In the case of Homeworld 23 (formerly known as Jupiter), it came from a bad shipment of Galactic Chipotle. Something about the lettuce not being clean enough. At any rate, with the rabid popularity of Galactic Chipotle among the young, fast-paced inhabitants of Homeworld 23 and the incredibly contagious nature of the disease, there were cases of werewolfism popping up everywhere.

For most people, it really wasn't a big deal. People who had werewolfism only went through physical transformations, and while the "giant dog" aspects of their bodies were inconvenient for some occupations, it couldn't be helped. Simply too many people had contracted the condition and with the multitude of moons circling Homeworld 23, having wolf people at home and at work became normal. Most companies just adjusted their HR policies, bought kibble to keep by the coffee machines, and went on their merry way. It was a common sight to see werewolves taking walks outside or sticking their heads out of their hovercar windows, tongues flapping in the wind and tails wagging.

Now, I'm no bigot. I don't mind wolf people at all. The peaches aren't a big deal, and I realize the cashier is putting forth his best paw. Since there are no behavioral changes with the disease, there's none of the violent gnashing of teeth or feasting upon virgins that our cinemas so love to broadcast. Werewolves are perfectly nice people, just bigger, droolier, and furrier.

And that's my problem. You see, since humankind has expanded to beyond our home planet of Earth, our race has become more and more advanced. We've harnessed the benefits of technology and medicine to their fullest. Homeworld 23 is not a friendly planet, but we've managed to survive nonetheless. Fatal diseases have become almost completely obliterated. Medicine has been rendered unnecessary, and doctors only need to tend to the most serious of afflictions now. The average human has increased healing capabilities and an incredible immune system. I am no different. At least, I thought I was.

As the cashier hands me my bagged groceries, the prickling sensation that had been building up behind my eyes finally comes to a boil. A huge gust of air blasts out of my nostrils as my head jerks forward and a honk unlike an airhorn rips through the air, startling the werewolf cashier and the line of shoppers behind me. It is the first of many noises as I proceed to release a truly ferocious series of sneezes, each one worse than the last. At the end of it my head is spinning, my eyes are moist, and my nose is sore and leaking.

It turns out that, like most densely furred animals, werewolves tend to shed a lot. I have since discovered that I am profoundly allergic to fur, and there is no allergy medication here on Homeworld 23.