The two teleported again, to a big-city nightclub. "You know" said Taylor "Guys are going to hit on you."
"Ahhh, poor guys." said Maggie.
Taylor's prophecy proved correct. She established a set of procedures. Guys who politely withdrew on being informed of Maggie's lack of interest received Taylor's help in finding attractive, enthusiastic partners. Annoyingly persistent guys got new lives as cute puppies or kittens in good homes. (Taylor left the new owners the option of "fixing" their pets.) Homophobic guys got to be newts.
Then Taylor turned pale. The current annoyingly persistent guy shrank but kept shrinking, beyond the size of a kitten, or a newt, as his body was changing, becoming brown with antenna. A cockroach scuttled away.
"What the hell?" said Maggie.
"He, he was going to rape you. That's what he does, what he did, because I'm never changing him back." Taylor was clearly shaken. "OK if we call it a night, sweetie. That just weirded me out. If anything were to happen to you. . .Maybe I need to look at what Clarice's group thinks I should do to make the world better."
"Of course."