“The question, of course, then becomes ‘How do we capture his exact likeness?’” said the shifter, smiling genially at the bustling technicians. “After all, someone once had to have done it, and with prehistorical technology, too, or the stories wouldn’t exist.” He grew a pair of donkey’s ears and waggled them.
The light flashed. The shifter smirked. “Too slow,” he said.
One of the technicians, unable to contain himself, violated protocol. “The picture is transmitted through the cable in less than one millionth of a second,” he told the shifter.
The shifter nodded. “Nothing ever stays the same for long.”