FF: I need a hand (or six) (Enders/planned)

The Goddess woke up to a pounding headache, a strange ceiling, and smells that she had never had to put up with before. She wrinkled her nose and reached up two hands to rub her temples, meanwhile extending another arm to ring the bell on the beds...

There was no other arm.

The man that was Joe Enders the night before sat bolt upright in the bed and screamed.

And screamed.

And screamed.

There was sudden movement, and a very frightened and frazzled brunette emerged from the folds of the bedding, wearing mostly nothing at all. The Goddess didn't care. She was used to occasionally having attractive people in her bed. She was not used to making do with only two arms.

She kept on screaming.

The arms she held up in front of here were also just... plain wrong. They were pale, and... muscular and...

... the screaming was wrong too.

The scream stopped as the Goddess scrambled out of the bed, tripping over a pile of clothes on the floor, towards what seemed to be the bathroom of a godforsaken, filthy mundane hellhole. She did not pay attention to the scared questions of the brunette as she fell with both arms against the wall, staring at her reflection in the mirror.

His reflection in the mirror.

This was so not how she imagined reincarnation.