How quickly would the world end (as in, 'fall of society') if every animal became a monster girl?

Who'd shoot a cute petgirl that wants sex and cuddles?

They wouldn't if they were just cute girls nuzzling up to you chirping all happy like. But OP specified them being aggressive and territorial, so they'd be trying to rape you and scratch you to death for walking in on their turf.

>Monster Girls
>don't IMMEDIATELY include fucking
But thats not how it is supposed to go OP

Is conservation od mass a factor or do they all grow human sized?

Mangled insect girl gore bursting out of walls and furniture.

I don't think insects are included, but rodents would certainly be included. I think sizes are relative though. So small creatures would be really small women.

>every animal
>every single ant
>every worm
>every honeybee
>every animal in every niche
>now a human with some bits attached
I give it a year before complete environmental collapse.

Insects are technically animals, 'though I'd prefer if they weren't included, either.

I agree. Without pollination or an ethical source of meat, AND with more waifu mouths to feed, everyone just starves.

So, every single animal on the planet became human sized and sapient?

Well, you've just completely fucked the entire world's ecology, for one. Then there's the obvious problem of food. Doubt those cows are going to be particularly fond of us when they suddenly understand what we're using them for, not to mention the reaction of most people when all our food is coming from creatures as intelligent as us and look a lot like us.

The world's going to go to shit real fucking fast.

we can use insects as a protein source even as flour. let the pigpile begin

I give 10 minutes, tops. I mean, it's estimated we have quintillions insects on Earth...

Instant death for most, if not all, considering parasites.

>needing the deer to look like a cute girl to fuck its brains out

...

Almost immediately due to shear biological factors more than anything, unless you put some limits on it.

If you say that it excludes most insects and that it's only a small percentage of the larger population of other types of animals, that gives a more manageable scenario. A significant portion of species suddenly becoming female and closer to human size would cause significant problems ecologicially. Philosophically it'd be hell for anyone other than vegans, and it'd also be hard to organize if these monstergirls still have bestial intelligence.

Insects are animals too friend. They would be turned into terrifying monstergirls as well.

> tfw my backwoods cabin is now filled with half a dozen thicc blonde catgirls that practically worship me
> tfw sleeping in a pile of pussy in more ways than one
> tfw no longer permavirgin

>Assuming the monster girls do not gain or lose mass, big creatures stay big, small creatures stay small
>Assuming there are monster boys to breed with
Society ends in minutes, a couple hours tops. Most animal life will be dead within a day. All animal life will be dead within a week or so. A huge portion of plant life will follow and the world will experience an extinction event that puts the Permian Triassic Extinction to shame. Life may very well end on Earth.

Immediate massive food shortages due to loss of livestock.

Environmental collapse and apocolypse soon after..

MacArthur slammed the pedal down and the tires spun out for a too-long second before they finally caught a grip on the abandoned street. Behind him a horde of catgirls bounded after him on all fours, but the Ford engine was faster than they were and he knew they couldn't keep up forever. Catgirls were ambush predators. No good on a long run. He swerved between a few derelict cars parked sideways across the median and he was in the clear. One glance in his rearview mirror told him he was safe. A pair of catgirls perched on the receding wreckage, licking the backs of their hands as if nothing had happened.

Ahead of him a road-spanning sign loomed into view, and he groped the passenger seat for his binoculars to check it, keeping his foot on the gas. Sure enough, a snake-girl dangled from the graffiti-covered sign, waiting for him. Naga-girl? Lamia-girl? MacArthur could never remember which was which.

Just as he was about to pass under the sign, he swerved hard and aimed the Ford at the off-ramp. The snake-girl hissed and lunged off the sign, and MacArthur felt the weight of her sinuous body slam against the roof with enough force to dent it in. "She must weigh five hundred pounds with all that bone and meat," he thought to himself. Suddenly her face was in front of him, upside-down, blocking his view of the road ahead. "Notice me, senpai!" she squealed, and MacArthur only had time to turn his head before her tail smashed through the passenger window and twined itself around the steering wheel.

"No, goddammi-" MacArthur started to shout before the Ford lurched and tipped, sliding like it was on ice before finally catching and flipping nearly straight up, rolling over and over and finally smashing into something hard enough to stop it.

MacArthur crawled from the truck, clutching a shotgun in one hand and his bleeding forehead in the other. He couldn't see, it was too bright. He stumbled forward, raising the shotgun and panting, and stepped into an enormous shadow. The Ford had come to rest against the base of a billboard's post, and MacArthur looked up dizzily, reading the words like a child.

THE UN WILL SEE US THROUGH.

Gravel and glass clattered behind him, and he pivoted, almost losing his balance and gripping the shotgun in both hands.

"Extreme fecundity."

"Yo," Morrison called, raising his hand. "In English?"

Watkins leaned around backward to face Morrison, the chair creaking under three hundred pounds of Nebraska farm boy. "If you fuck 'em, they'll get pregnant. Right, doc?" he asked, turning back around and crossing his massive ham hock arms.

"Essentially, yes. Actually, that's exactly it. Every recorded copulation with our tagged specimens produced more monstergirls," the Chief Medical Officer (and former plastic surgeon, but in these dark days any medical training is nothing to complain about) agreed, using the common term that had come to be accepted as the standard way to address this apocalypse. "Sexual dimorphism seems to be no obst- that is, it doesn't matter how... diverse the monstergirls are. There's always a place to stick it."

This drew a roar of laughter from the assembled men, high on nerves and adrenaline, until the acting general hollered at everyone in the room to shut up.

"The minimum number of offspring seems to be three, with the dragongirls producing litters that low... on... occasion," the Chief Medical Officer finished, glancing down at his clipboard full of scrawled notes and page references. "All of them are monstergirls, of course."

MacArthur kicked in the door to the mall and stumbled, clipping his shoulder on the other door as he hurried in. He looked up, gasping for air, the first thing anyone did when they entered a building. "No spidergirls," he thought to himself. Not much of anything. There was the obvious looting, of course. Most of the store windows were smashed, most of the products had been stolen or knocked to the floor, and he could see where several small fires had been set. But no monstergirls. "No corpses, either," he thought as he looked up again. The skylights weren't even broken. Dirty, sure, but they still let in plenty of light now that his eyes had adjusted to being out of the hot sun. Had he inadvertently found a safe zone? Some commune of refugees that had managed to ride out the initial months of carnage and forced mating and stayed undetected until now?

Maybe they even had real human women!

Anyone with half a brain would have seen that MacArthur was suffering from a terrible loss of blood as he awkwardly shuffled his way past a still-standing rack of designer dresses, but half of MacArthur's brain was scrambled in the crash, and so when he came to the fountain in the middle of the deserted mall and saw the three beautiful women lounging on its faux-stone concrete lip it took him a long moment to realize that they weren't human. Long enough that he wandered within ten feet of the fountain before he could see hazy light shining through their perfect bodies. "Jesus," he said out loud, involuntarily, as he wearily lifted his shotgun upright and squeezed. The three goo-girls gasped in unison as one of them exploded in a cloud of droplets, and MacArthur coughed "Shit!" as he realized he was out of shells.

"Wait!" one of the remaining goo-girls warbled melodically. "We won't hurt you! You're injured, let us help!"

MacArthur stopped groping for the pistol that wasn't there and looked up. "Did her tits just get bigger?" he thought out loud. He couldn't take his eyes off of them. They didn't look like he had expected. Like Jell-O. They didn't seem to have any skin - the outer surface was as glistening and wet as the center. One of them pivoted slowly without shifting her posture, like a mannequin on a turntable, giving him a lingering view of her perfect plump backside, and flashed him a too-human look of lust. Incredibly, he could see a curved distortion in the light just above where her inner thighs rubbed together that seemed even more inviting.

"What do I know about goo-girls?" he asked himself as the three supple and jiggling apparitions slid around him, unbuckling his gear. His spent shotgun dropped to the tiled floor and he thought back to the briefing they had endured the week before. He hadn't been paying attention through most of it. But their pheromones were everywhere, and MacArthur could only think of one thing.

----

Morrison looked over at MacArthur sleeping next to him as the doc droned on.

"From what we've observed with the semipermeable monstergirls, they can control their acidic excretions, but if their concentration is broken, anything currently being enveloped will be dissolved in a few seconds."

The world wouldn't end at all. In fact, everything would improve. There will be enough monster girls around for every man on Earth to have multiple lovers who appreciate him just for who he is and don't demand that he jump through hoops to prove himself to them. Society will no longer be able to coerce men into the provider/protector role and its accompanying disposability. Capitalists will lose control. War will cease to exist, as will sexual deprivation and dysfunction. Everyone will be too happy and relaxed from all the sex they're having to even think about being cruel to others.

>Let's assume "beast instincts" don't IMMEDIATELY include fucking and instead prioritize survival, or territorial aggression, and so on.
For monster girls, fucking *is* survival.

Feminists. No one's going to put up with their shit if there are monster girls as an alternative.

More?

ahaha NO.

>How quickly would the world end (as in, 'fall of society') if every animal became a monster girl?
Just a reminder that you're covered in animals like en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Demodex_folliculorum

And even if we confine the list of things affected to decidedly macroscopic animals -- mouse-size or bigger, maybe? -- we've just eradicated much of the world's food supply.

Bacterias are animals.

No, they're their own thing. Animals are Kingdom Animalia, Bacteria are Kingdom Bacteria.

You're right, my mistake
Helminths, though...

>More?
Sorry, I just wrote that on the fly for a monstergirl thread a couple years ago.

Are they mouse-sized monster girls?

If not, I'm pretty sure we'll be swimming in them.

FOOLS