Presley echoes Ramona's sigh, but also gets into position. He tugs on the sunglasses until they pull free of the muscheron's grasp—or rather, a glowing duplicate does, just as unwieldy as the real thing.

But Presley has strong muscles from dance. He can handle carrying pink plastic, and only whines a little as he hefts the end piece. "Do you suppose it'll stay the same size when we get to the auditorium, or shrink down? Shrink down, right?" He pauses. "I'm going to wear them."