You're Only Young Twice
by PixChick
It was positively diabolical. I had tracked the international spy ring to a park in an ordinary American suburb. But inside the park's field house, I found a secret panel that led me directly into the ring's secret headquarters. I was soon face-to-face with the head spy, who shouted, "Seize him!" I was beset by four of his minions, whom normally I could fight off, but there was a fifth minion who surprised me from behind!
On the head spy's orders, I was placed in a glass cylinder. "Now I will fix you so you'll never bother me again," the spy chief cackled as he threw a switch. Sparks flew and the cylinder filled with gray gas. As I coughed, I could feel my tuxedo getting huge on my frame. I was soon seated on the floor of the cylinder, barely peering from the collar of my French-cuffed shirt. This left me both stirred and shaking.
The spy chief threw another switch. I moved along a conveyor belt, along which I was relieved of my tuxedo and related clothing. A helmet fell on my head and rearranged my hair. Mechanical arms pulled up my legs what looked like training pants. Subsequent arms added more clothing until I was fully dressed in a large shirt and jumper, sneakers and socks at the end of the conveyor.
"You won't get away with this," I warned the spy chief, trying to sound authoritative even though my voice had become higher and squeakier. "But I just did! I've turned you into a baby girl; so from now on, while my men are filching top secret weapons plans, you'll be stuck in daycare," the spy chief said. He then threw one more switch, opening a trap door that sent me down this playground slide before you.
Oh, excuse me. I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Bond. James
Bond.