Gif: SHIP SHAPE!

EXT. NAVY DOCK – DAY

A line of sailors stands at attention on the dock, stiff and nervous. COMMANDER HARTLEY, a tough, no-nonsense female officer, paces in front of them, looking furious.

COMMANDER HARTLEY: I've spoken to you boys many times about making inappropriate comments to female crew members, but nothing seems to stop you. So, I'm going to introduce a new policy... from now on, any man caught harassing a woman on my ship will be immediately changed into a woman! We are talking full feminization, stem to stern!

The sailors all flinch and squirm, some of them looking very worried indeed.

COMMANDER HARTLEY: Lieutenant Busby! Last night, Lieutenant Eastman put you on report for whistling at her in the starboard passageway. You will now be feminized, and hopefully it will serve as an example for all the men on board!

BUSBY looks horrified, but, military man that he is, he maintains his place in formation, staring straight ahead.

BUSBY: I didn't whistle at Eastman, ma'am! It wasn't me! I don't even know how to whistle!

BUSBY suddenly loses several inches in height, his hips widen and his chest swells until he's straining the buttons of his uniform. A moment later he's become a buxom blonde woman, face flushed pink with embarrassment. The other sailors groan and mutter, knowing they're all one accusation away from being transformed as well. HARTLEY smirks.

COMMANDER HARTLEY: All right, you all have a choice. Act like gentlemen... or become ladies. Now, FALL OUT! Back on board, all of you!

The sailors begin filing onto the ship. BUSBY lingers at the base of the gangplank before hesitantly stepping forward.

BUSBY: Uh... Commander? When will I get, uh... changed back?

COMMANDER HARTLEY: You won’t. You're a woman for good now. And if I hear one peep of complaint from you, you’ll be working the galley as cook's mate.

BUSBY gulps and his cheeks flush even pinker. HARTLEY looks him up and down slowly, enjoying this.

COMMANDER HARTLEY: Now go hit the supply room and see if you can find a uniform that actually fits. I have a hard enough time keeping my boys in line, without you strutting around with a pair of Howitzers like those on display!

BUSBY: Yes, ma'am. Right away, ma'am.

BUSBY turns and stiffly marches himself up the gangplank, clearly uncomfortable in his tight uniform and struggling to make his curvy new body walk like a man.

BUSBY: (Muttering to himself) I don't even know how to whistle, damn it.