John examined the boxers as he grabbed them from the top of the divider. He was confused by the brand name "Playground Pals", but was eager to start moving on from the events that led him here. So, he quickly stepped into them. Pulling them up turned out to be quite the challenge as they were far too tight.
"Are you sure you don't have anything larger?" John called.
"Don't worry those will fit a lot better in a moment."
John was skeptical of that but he didn't really have another option. So he did his best to force the underwear up his legs. Strangely enough they did seem to be adjusting to fit better the further they went. John guessed they must be some sort of super stretchy material.
As soon as they were all the way up, another article of clothing appeared at the top of the barrier. John was confused to find he was unable to reach the top and had to push a chair over to stand on. He considered saying something, but he couldn't think of a way to explain this without sounding crazy.
So, he grabbed what looked like a pair of denim shorts and pulled them on. Only they turned out to not be shorts, as there were no individual leg holes. Are these some kind of denim kilt then? He definitely had never heard of such a thing.
His attention was taken by the next item to come over the side. This was a pink shirt with a picture of Rapunzel on it. John frowned what is up with this choices? Is Morton messing with him? John quickly threw the shirt on and hopped down from the chair. He marched around the divider so he could talk to Morton about some more reasonable clothes.
Only John stopped dead in his tracks when he came face-to-face with the man. Well the issue was it was more face-to-waist. John gaped at the seemingly giant Morton, who appeared conversely nonplussed.
"Good you're almost ready," He said matter of factly.
"What's going on?" John demanded with a newfound chirpy voice.
The man smiled condescendingly, "Well your trip to Boston has been such an unpleasant experience that I'm authorized to give you a new flight and accommodations. For what I have in mind you needed to be a bit younger."
"Younger? You can't just make people younger! It's impossible!" John insisted.
The man took John's hand and led him over to a mirror, "Are you sure?"
John's eyes went wide at the reflection. That was definitely not the image of John the adult man. It wasn't even the image of John the small boy. No, the tiny, freckled, long haired form staring back at him in the mirror was a little girl.
While John stared in shock, Morton put "her" hair into pigtails and pulled a pair of socks onto her feet followed by velcro shoes. The outfit was completed by a wristband that declared her to be "Belle age 4: solo minor traveler" and then listed a flight number.
"There you are all ready to go," Morton announced.
"No! You need to change me back! I can't go anywhere like this!" "Belle" stomped her feet to empathize her point, but her face grew bright red as her new footwear began flashing.
Morton patted her on the head, "Now there's no need for that. If you'd prefer to be a man with no luggage and soaking wet clothes I guess that can be arranged."
"No! I definitely don't want that, but..."
"Ok great. I'm glad you could see reason," He said as he led her to the door where a girly suitcase and backpack, with a teddy bear strapped in the front, waited.
Belle tried to request he reconsider this but after buckling the backpack onto her, he ushered her out the door and pulled it closed behind her. Belle gulped as she took in the busy hall filled with now giant adults. She had to go somewhere, but was a flight to who-knows-where based on her wristband the best course of action?