You zap each and every worker in the place.
You then watch as they age rapidly, seeing weight gain, fine lines, crows feet,plenty of gray hairs, and the great thing is you keep their minds and responses as those you'd expect from them as of young women.
Soon, a mix of gray and white haired 67 to 97 year old women stand in the place, wearing the clothing of someone in their late teens and early twenties.
Just to be nice, you allowed their clothing to change to fit their new sizes and ages, while giving them those things that would allow them to function well at their older age.
"Oh my, well at least you spared me that indignity. look at them, some of them are using canes to get around, and they think that they are perfectly normal. This place looks like a freak show!"
Just then an old woman whose nametag reads Gina walks up to them.
"Yes, that is right dude," she proceeds in a quavery voice, long white and gray curly hair hanging down to her waist," we will be having that fashion show here later this afternoon. You'll be there, won't you?
"Wouldn't miss it ma'am."
"Please, call me Gina," she replies running her weathered hand through your hair.
"I'll make sure to be back here later Gina, and thanks."
"Don't mention it, hottie," she ads, winking at you, and shuffling away.
"I hope you are proud of yourself," the original girl, Lauren, next to you remarks.
"Glad you like it. Now, where to next?"