You shake your head vigorously. This mad leprechaun woman had done enough damage already. But the way she leered, you knew she was hardly done with you. You hold your tiny hands to your chest in fearful anticipation.
"You know what, laddie?" she said, "I think that'll clear things up righteously for ya. 'Specially if you're the child of a fae."
Oh no.
You notice shrinking happening again.
"But you know," she said thoughtfully as the process began anew, "I think I'll make things interesting for you. You'll be a fine lass by the time you grow up again, perhaps as pretty as me!"
Your eyes go wide, but you cannot protest as you are now an infant and do not have developed vocals. You begin to cry, knowing that if you don't stop her, your future would be...!
But no. Suddenly everything goes dark.
You're in somewhere dark. And warm. And wet. The womb.
A feeling of serenity begins to wash over you, though you still have not forgotten what this means. Just as you begin to feel settled, you feel a wash of pre-natal hormone. Female hormone.
Crap.