Dropping the clothes on the floor, you turn about and march back out of the bathroom, not wanting anything to do with further making your life complicated by wearing the clothing found in the room. Striding up to the counter, you look at the assistant and open your mouth to say something.
Before you can get one syllable, the assistant tells you, "Beat it kid. I've got business to attend to," and turns to a pile of books and begins writing data in them.
Bothered that you couldn't even argue your point, sure that he has your original clothes and he is responsible for your transformation, you patiently wait and when you are sure he is not paying any attention to you, you sneak past him and into a back room.
Looking about, you see shelves that start close to the floor and then go up to the ceiling. Counting, you think that there about eight shelves per wall, with three walls total. Groaning, you think, "This is going to take forever. I just hope he stays busy," and begin searching the nearest shelf.
Shelf after shelf of uniforms for the boy scouts, ROTC and other various organizations can be found, just not your original clothes. Thinking, "Maybe if I put on one of the ROTC uniforms, I'll change back," you begin to take off the Boy Scout uniform and then after a moments hesitation, you take off the underwear as well and folding the articles of clothing up, you place them on the shelf with the rest of the Boy Scout uniforms.
Shivering, realising that it is cold in this room, you shift about as you feel the cold concrete slowly numbing your bare feet. As you do this, you accidently knock into a ladder. With a thundering crash, it topples over and into a couple of shelves, scattering uniforms about. From behind you, you hear the assistant bellow, "What the hell! Is someone back there?"
Scared of being caught, and naked none the less, you scoot across the room and casting about, you drop down and squeeze beneath the lowest shelf just as the man comes into the room. Cursing, he belts out, "Is someone in here," looks to the mess on the floor and cursing a bit more, comments, "Great. Now I have a mess to clean up as well as the book keeping that needs to be finished." And cursing some more, he begins to pick up, fold and stack the uniforms back on the shelves.
Shivering, knowing you cannot lie here on the cold concrete forever, scared you're going to get caught, you reach out and try to grab a ROTC uniform. When you finally do grab a uniform, you hope that your hand wasn't seen and slowly pull it under the shelf.
Cursing to yourself because of the poor light, wanting to get a better look at the uniform you've just grabbed, you begin to squirm and struggle to pull it on. First the underwear, which feels kind of tight at first, but you adjust after a moment. Next the shirt..."Are the buttons on the wrong," you ask yourself as you pull it on and begin to button it...and then the vest.
Lying there, out of breath, you think the clothes feel odd, but shrug it off by thinking, "Of course they feel odd. I'm trying to dress while crammed underneath a shelf."
Struggling a bit more, hoping that you are not heard over the assistant's cursing and grumbling, you begin to pull on what you think are a pair of pants, but by the time you pull them on, you realise that they feel more like shorts. Thinking, "This can't be a ROTC uniform, can it," you reach down and pull on the socks and shoes that were with the uniform, think that the shoes are a bit tight at first, but then when they adjust, you once again think it's because of where you are lying.
A few feet away, the assistant has finished and is just putting the last uniform back on the shelf when somewhere a bell rings. Grumbling some more, he exits the back room and once you are sure he is gone, you climb out of where you are hiding.
Looking about, you think that everything is bigger and that for some reason you feel a bit off. Before you can do anything, a voice demands, "What are you doing back here," and before you can answer, a hand roughly grabs you by the arm, all the while you hear the assistant mutter above you, "Suppose you're the one who made the mess. Cost me an extra fifteen minutes of work...."
Escorting you out, he tells someone, "Be with you in a minute," and hauls you past the counter, through a door and turns you over to someone with the words, "Please escort this young lady to wherever she is supposed to be. Oh, and be on the lookout. There is a Boy Scout separated from his troop."
Confused, you watch the assistant walk away, suddenly realising that he is taller. Above you, a voice asks, "Now, where are you supposed to be and what is your name?"
Bothered, choosing to ignore the question for right now, you look down and with sinking despair. Taking in the skirt, blouse and vest you realise that the uniform you grabbed was a Girl Scout uniform. Guessing your age to be about five or six, feeling you have gone from bad to worse as you are now female, you think, "Now what do I do," as a lock of long dark red hair falls before your eyes and the voice reiterates the question.