Second Skins is, at first blush, like just about any other second hand clothing store.  There's a tiny front counter, behind which a bored and bespectacled young woman sits, idly reading a brick-thick Japanese comic book and sipping from a mug full of what smells like killer Turkish brew.  She glances up when you enter.<br/><br/>"Welcome to Second Skin," she intones, boredom in every monotone syllable.  "Caveat emptor and all that.  Please read any attached tags carefully before purchase.  What c'n I do for you?"<br/><br/>Her eyes dip to regard May's display.<br/><br/>"Wow.  Okay.  You want to display the girls or hide them more effectively?  Not that it'll help if the kittens are around.  But at least they don't have tentacles."