A couple blocks away was a police station. Loki whistled a tune as he walked in.
"May I help you?" asked the officer at the front desk, who Loki was delighted to see was a young woman.
"Yes, do you have any female officers going undercover as prostitutes this evening?" Loki asked.
The officer was taken aback. "Um, we don't give out that information --"
"Ah, of course you don't, Officer C. Fellowes," said Loki, looking at the name tag pinned to the woman's uniform shirt. "It's too bad, really. I could certainly improve their ability to pick up johns. But you, though -- well, you would not be a bad choice."
"Um, excuse me?"
"What is your first name?" Loki asked, then answered himself. "Oh, I can see it right there in your business card holder. Claire Fellowes. First name is fine, but I think the surname needs a tweak. What about Claire Swallows?"
"Um, sir, this is, um..." Something about the man's eyes was keeping her from calling another officer over. She was too mesmerized to look down and see that her name tag had changed to "C. Swallows."
"That outfit is not doing you any favors. I think you'd look better in red," said Loki.
Her white uniform top and navy blue uniform pants quickly merged together and moved toward the red end of the spectrum as they shrank and hugged her body tighter. She was now wearing a minidress, and Loki had to lean over a bit to verify that what had presumably been police-issue shoes were now knee-high red vinyl boots with platform heels.
"Oh, my God," she said, "um, I..."
"You're right, of course, something's not quite right," Loki interrupted. He pointed, and her breasts swelled outward by a few cup sizes as her short brunette hair lengthened to mid-back and her face was painted with a thick layer of makeup, most notably bright red lips to match her dress and boots. "There," said the trickster, "now you're a perfect --" He thought for a moment, and decided that she was now actually...