Before anyone in the family could move, a strange, swirling cloud of glowing, turquoise colored mist began to rapidly coalesce around them.
“I can't move!” yelled Megan.
“Neither can I!” shouted Steve, struggling desperately to move his legs. It was as though some powerful magnet was forcing the family's feet to remain rooted to the floor.
“I'm so scared!” shrieked Janet.
The swirling, blue-green cloud of smoke grew thicker and denser around each member of the family. Then suddenly, the smoke began pouring into the mouths and noses of the family. Each of them coughed and sputtered for a moment, then grew strangely silent... and different in terms of posture of facial expression.
The clouds of smoke were now completely gone.
“Damn, it feels good to be alive again,” said Megan, her twelve-year old voice now oddly rough and gravely. “Waitaminute... dammit!... I'm a kid... and a girl!”
“Daniel, human is human!” said Alan, in a high-pitched lisp. He struck a limp-wristed, sultry pose more appropriate for an adult woman than a teenage boy. “You don't see me complaining about this silly little thing dangling awkwardly off of me!”
Alan gestured delicately at his groin, blushed, and giggled like an embarrassed lady of high society.
“Fine, Lillian, that's just fine,” grumbled Megan in a deep, gruff voice. “You don't need to rub it in.”
“Did the children cross over as well?” asked Alan, turning expectantly towards the bodies of his parents.
“Hi, mommy!” answered Steve in a high-pitched falsetto.
“Oh my goodness!” laughed Megan. “Is that you Sarah?”
Steve smiled sheepishly and nodded.
“Then Matthew, you must be... a grown woman now?” asked Megan.
“An' I don't like it none, neither!” said a pouting Janet. She briefly stuck out her tongue at Megan, then awkwardly tried to cross her arms against her chest in a posture of pouting, but quickly grew frustrated at the large breasts in the way, and ultimately just dropped her arms to her sides.
“Well,” grumbled Megan. “As your mother pointed out, at least we're alive again. It's been... what?... pert near a century since the accident. Living is living, I reckon. May as well make the most of it.”