Rocket woke up to a skull rattling impact to his forehead. "SonofaBITCH!" was the first word out of his mouth. Where the hell was he? The last thing he remembered was packing his gear after finalizing certain less than lawful arrangements back in his shop and laying down for a nap. This certainly wasn't his run down shop. Even his voice sounded weird.
"Shhh!" he heard, and opened his eyes to see a judgmental looking, mousy blonde girl with pointed ears and nose ridges scowling at him from a chair in the corner of the large alcove. She promptly buried her face in the massive tome on Alchemy she was reading, but he could hear her mutter something about damn drunks under her breath.
Rocket bared his teeth at her and growled. Ugh. That was one weak growl. Something was really wrong with his voice. He had been lying on the rich colored rug that covered most of the floor, and he looked to the right where he could see the culprit for his throbbing head. Two of them, actually. A large, hardcover copy of The Savoy Cocktail Book, by Harry Craddock, and one of Meehan’s Bartender Manual. Beyond them he could see his backpack, the leather thongs undone and a few of his electronics and tools spilling out under the half open flap.
He groaned and ran a hand over his muzzle. Wait. Where was his muzzle? AND WHAT WAS THAT BALD PALE HAND WHAT THE...? A strangled shriek caught in his throat as he looked at both his hands, then down and his body. He looked... human? The clothes looked like what the humans wore back on Earth, and he was still bipedal, but the proportions were all wrong. And his fur was gone!
The girl slammed her book closed. "SHHH! Respect the sanctity of the Athenaeum! There are people reading here, you miscreant!" she hissed at him.
Rocket looked at her for a long moment, eyes and mouth twitching, before he felt his usual rage and contempt for lesser creatures catch up. "Rispict thi ithiniim!" he mocked, blowing a raspberry at the girl. "Yeah, you must be a riot at parties," he growled in his weak, thin voice that he already hated. He jammed his belongings into his bag and, out of sheer spite, stuffed the two books into it as well.
"You can't just take those! You need a valid library card to check them out. I'm calling security!" the girl hissed at him, making Rocket wonder if that was her actual speaking voice.
"No, of course. You're right. That's my bad," Rocket said, grinning and a little too manic. He pulled out a half-dollar sized disc from a pocket of his bag, pressed a button and tossed it to the girl. "Here, hold that for me for a minute."
The girl shrieked in turn but grabbed the disc on instinct, immediately grunting and convulsing as a taser charge rocked her body.
"Oops," Rocket said, chuckling under his breath as he retrieved the spent disc and sprinted away. He had a similar exchange at the doors, where the attendant tried to explain to him the rules while he pretended to agree with everything before sprinting out of the Ravenmoore Athenaeum with the two stolen books in his new, highly confusing humanoid body. He just kept running until he was sure he wasn't being followed and found a hub where he could get online and find out where the hell he was.