EDIT: The companion piece was reported for apparently being non-furry. So I uploaded it to ImageShack;
There's also the FA Submission. We now return you to your regularly scheduled programme.
Note: The following is a work of satire. Hyperbole and exaggerration are employed for comic effect. This should not be taken seriously. Ever.
"Where to Be TFed"
by Eulalie 'Nequ' Quentin
2010 Creative Commons By-SA-NC
THE LITTLE SHOP THAT WASN'T THERE YESTERDAY
While not a location for transformations to occur, the Shop is integral to many transformation stories. It is usually where the subject of the story purchases a strange book, or quaint amulet, or unusual costume, or a sex toy. The shopkeeper is mysterious and charming--no part-time pimply-faced youths trying to earn enough money to buy the latest Justin Beiber album--and the patron always waits to open the package until they get...
The Home is the standard location for most TF fiction. It is controlled, it is familiar, it is comfortable, and you can get mail there.
These days, the Little Shop has been largely supplanted by The Mysterious Website That Your Friend Linked You To. Not only does it mean one less location to write, it reflects the changing methods of pornography procurement. Where one's father would've sent away $2.00 and waited six to eight weeks to receive a poor-quality printing in brown-paper covers, the man or woman of today simply needs to input an address and credit card number to have the good stuff in their hot little hands within days. And it doesn't even have to be their credit card.
If the home is an apartment, there's a good chance the roommate or other building residents will join in the fun. One must assume none of them get their deposit back.
TFs at the workplace are often just finishing off transformations that started at home. The victim starts feeling queasy sometime before lunch, whereupon they will stumble into the bathroom and into an empty stall before finishing up. Oddly enough, there's always a stall free. No one has to dance around like a kid who drank too much Kool-Aid while they try to hold back their TF, though the image is amusing.
There are rarer situations of someone working late, or being called up on the carpet by their boss, and the even rarer one of someone feeling the symptoms at work and going home sick. Equally amusing is the idea of someone stuck in traffic while their ears slowly turn to furred points. "C'mon!" they cry, gripping the wheel with increasingly larger hands. "Move already!"
Like Home, the setting is familiar. Like the Office, the bulk of the TF tends to take place in the bathroom. Sometimes the subject feels discomfort in the classroom, then asks to go to the water closet. The subject is rarely called up for fidgeting in class up until that point either, unless it's a lead up for them to go to the bathroom. In fact, short of the subject stuffing their Trapper-Keeper into their pants in a desperate attempt to quench the fire in their loins--and even then it's only a 50/50 chance--fellow students and faculty are unable to notice any unusual activity on the part of the TFee.
The TF never happens in Phys. Ed., in assembly or on bus, though the symptoms may be felt there. The locker room is acceptable, though there is the question of time. The transformation usually occurs when just the story's protagonist is in said locker room, occasionally with their best friend. (If the protagonist is female(at least to start with), said friend will have unrequited feelings for her.) If anyone comes in afterwards, they tend to want to join the fun. In short, the list of locations is oddly curtailed.
In case you're wondering, the reason school is a popular location overall is that it's where many first deal with matters of the heart. As well as someplace lower down.
Anyone entering a cave in a TF story, no matter the setting, will usually be doing so alone. Even experienced cavers somehow forget basic precautions such as a helmet, multiple light sources, one or more partners, or even telling people where they went.
We need to salute these brave men and women, without whose ignorance of common sense TF stories would not be possible.
See caves, but with traps in. For some reason, such temples usually entered by a single explorer, be they thief or archaeologist. Said archaeologist will never be interested in making notes, or preserving potential artifacts, or even radioing base camp and telling them what they found. If multiple people do go in, they will be split up within seconds.
As a rule, any laboratory featured in a TF story will be such a hotbed of ineffectual safety procedures that it's a wonder that the staff even survive to the point where the obligatory syringe is plunged into an unsuspecting vein. Often, the staff themselves will be the subject, after a beaker or vial is carelessly broken. Apparently, a biohazard suit isn't standard equipment even when dealing with substances the lab employees know can transform them into, say, a contagious nipple-cocked herm owl-manta ray hybrid. One must assume cutbacks.
Any ethical regulations that are mentioned at all, such as a double-blind study, will likely be glossed over by some form the protagonist signs. They will usually be omitted entirely, as will the idea of control groups. Subjects are usually injected with the substance, and either transform on the spot, or are sent home. Hilarity inevitably ensues.
After passing, these facilities will continue to be a hazard to life and limb. Even the most secret facility seems to leave filled syringes and mutated animals scattered willy-nilly about their former grounds. Incineration never seems to pop up, nor does the idea of burying sealed containers underground, nor does the question of why such substances were left out in the open. Of course, if the staff was that incompetent, it might explain why the place was abandoned in the first place.