"…physical in nature, although it won't affect your bodies directly." Loki looked at the confused faces and continued, "I've given you such lovely bodies, but, alas, I've caused you some wardrobe malfunctions in the process." It was true -- seams had ripped, buttons had popped, and hems had torn throughout the ballroom thanks to the size changes of various parts of everyone's anatomy. Bras with failed fasteners, their contents having grown too large, littered the floor. Girls' dresses were being held on either by their occupants' arms, or by sheer force of will. Guys were worried about getting their tuxedo rental deposits back, with their shirts shredded and jacket sleeves detached.
"So let me fix your clothes so they fit," said Loki. He waved his arm, and the promgoers watched, amazed, as the clothes they were wearing reassembled themselves, altering size and shape in the process. Within seconds, everyone's outfits were good as new -- maybe even better, now that they were wrapping better-looking packages.
"Of course," continued Loki, putting his hand to his chin as if he were thinking, "I did give you such lovely bodies…"
Someone in the back yelled "Oh, no!" as if they'd figured out what Loki was going to do a half-second before he did it. He waved his arm and quickly exclaimed, "It's a shame to cover them up so much!"
The guys' shirts disappeared -- except for the collar and cuffs -- as their jackets shrank into vests. The girls, meanwhile, watched as their dresses restyled themselves, with skirts either shortening drastically or gaining a slit way up the side, and the tops altering themselves to show off more cleavage, or developing a cut-out to show off a pierced navel, or both; some girls even found themselves wearing 2-piece outfits consisting of a formal halter top and miniskirt.
Before there was much reaction, Loki said, "Oh, and you girls have been on your feet for a long time now. Let me help you with that." With that, most of the girls felt themselves growing taller -- the ones in flats went up on tiptoes as their shoes literally grew high heels, and the ones wearing high heels already got even higher heels; some now even had platforms. Some of the girls noticed, though, that their feet were no longer hurting.
"Okay, last things first," said Loki. "Yes, you ladies can now barely stand, let alone walk, unless you're wearing shoes with heels at least 7 centimeters high. What is that, about 3 inches? We use the metric system in Norway. And for all of you -- when you get home, you'll find that the contents of your wardrobes have changed. In fact, you'll find that any clothes you put on will change, if they're not showing off enough. For example, ladies, I don't believe you'll ever own any pants again, and gentlemen, I think your shirt- wearing days are over."
There was quite a commotion at that, but Loki held up a hand and continued. "Don't worry, you're magically protected from temperature extremes -- you could go to Antarctica and be perfectly comfortable in what you're wearing right now, although the others there wouldn't know what to think. You also exude a sense of -- well, let's call it "belonging." People will recognize that you're, uh, scantily clad, but they won't kick you out of anyplace for violating the dress code. And I believe that will come in handy when you go home later tonight, or tomorrow -- your parents won't think you're strangers."
Loki grinned, taking one last look at those he had changed: the high school boys with their tanned, muscular bodies, in their Chippendale-esque outfits; the high school girls with their attention-getting breasts, beautiful faces, and oddly colored long hair, their makeup, piercings, tattoos, and clothing making them appear to be, as the now- Mohawked Emily had put it, sluts.
"And with that," he said, as he walked across the stage and down the couple of stairs leading down to the floor, "I bid you all adieu. Perhaps I'll visit you again someday." He went over to the DJ's console and looked down to see the DJ sitting on the floor, knees up against his chest, obviously trying not to be noticed. "Don't worry," said Loki, "I only wanted to change the students." Forgetting he'd created the wireless microphone out of thin air, he handed it to the DJ, who took it with a weak smile. "So go ahead and get this party restarted," urged Loki.
The DJ got to his feet as Loki walked away, toward the doors he'd magically locked, students clearing a path for him, trying not to draw his attention. Music began playing again as Loki exited into the corridor.
The chaperones were walking back from dinner. Loki nodded at the group again as he passed -- they'd still seen nothing odd about the fact that they'd all had a sudden urge for a steak dinner right in the middle of the prom. They went back into the ballroom to find, instead of the dancing they'd been expecting, a near-funereal atmosphere, with the students standing in little clumps talking, looking sad, examining each other's faces and clothing, some of them crying. The students all seemed to look different, somehow, but the chaperones quickly dismissed that as a trick of the dim lighting.
Loki began whistling part of an Edvard Grieg violin sonata as he walked through the hotel. Tonight had been a fun night.