Hazel walks, a certain odor and squelchy-noise about her, toward the exit of the store. In Hazel's arms is a pack of adult diapers and some decent clothes. She thinks she ought to feel a pang of guilt, but whisking those diapers away, it feels right.
'Have you had an accident?' came a big, clangy voice suddenly.
Hazel's face quickly sinks as a big metal arm cranes her up by the messy pajamas.
The voice spoke again. 'Stealing is not permitted for big babies.'
More big, metal hands come to assist, pulling down her soiled bottoms and changing her into diapers in record time.
Hazel has to admit, she enjoys it. Once she has her padding, she's whisked under the floor, landing in a giant nursery. The hands seem to spectate, hanging round constantly.