Despite the weirdness, curiosity gets the best of a few seeking an explanation

Most watched from a distance, but the blond clerk and Justine followed right behind the clothes, unworried by the self-propelled clothes and anxious for an explanation. A clerk coming from the women's dressing rooms was briskly walking toward the checkouts, looking like she'd seen a ghost.

"You--you guys have to see this and tell me I'm not crazy," she said to one of the cashiers. "There are clothes in my department that are...getting up and walking on their own." The cashier scrunched her face in disbelief.

But from the corner of the Misses department, they could all see pants wiggling on their hangers. One by one, they clipped, leapt off, inflated to tight, shapely legs and began heading deeper into the store.

"Come on, Travis...where's that naughty imagination of yours now?" He was face to face with a busty satin blouse.

"Why are you so anxious to get away?" The crimson bra said.

"The poor boy doesn't know what do with all this attention..." Another voice said as a massive heather sports bra emerged from the lines and hovered toward Travis.

"Wh-what's going on?" He pleaded, turning to the sports bra. "What are you all going to do with me?"

"We told you," The crimson bra said, "We just wanna play."

"What does that mean?" Travis asked. Now he started noticing the others, his eyes jumping from face of face as he watched the curious people gathered behind the massive army of clothing surrounding him. "Help me!" Travis pleaded with them. He was only met with a few shocked stares and a couple murmurs and laughter. "How are you people just standing and watching this happen?"

"We're being punked or something, right?" A male clerk said behind him, well away from clothing enough that he had to shout it.

"This--this isn't a prank! I'm not doing this!"

"You like booties too, Travis?" A full-figured pair of shiny silver leggings asked, approaching him. "Or are you more of a tit man?"

"Y--you--can you hear what they're saying?" Travis said, shouting to the teenage girl standing among a group of jeans.

"Saying?" Justine asked, laughing. "No--but I totally wanna know how you set this up. She waved her hand over the waists of a few pairs of jeans, giggling. "That's sooo cool!" She exclaimed, reaching down into the seat of a pair with one hand while she patted it on the butt with another.

"Sir--whatever's going on here, I...I--uh--it’s causing a disturbance, and..." the security guard was shaking in his starched white shirt. He was holding his radio as if it were a ward of protection--also keeping his distance from the living clothing.

"All you all crazy? I'm NOT doing this! They're your store's clothes!"

"Clothes that you had to touch--right, Travis? Clothes that you couldn't keep your eyes or hands off of?" The red satin cups hovered up to him, perking themselves as phantom nipples rose in the shiny fabric.

"I'm--I'm sorry! It was a stupid impulse!"

"Why on earth are you apologizing, honey?" Said a pair of full-figured jeans, strutting forward.

"He thinks he's done something wrong?" A busty orange cable-knit sweater giggled.

"We're all here for you, Travis," the crimson bra said. "You don't really want us to go away, do you?"

"Yeah, would you have more fun with us if we were still just laying on the shelves?" Said a pair of drum-tight size 14 jeans.

"Is he, like, talking to them?" Travis overheard from one of the spectators.

"Who's running all this? Like how are they making the clothes do that?" Asked another.

"Sir, this is getting out of hand," The security guard squeaked. "If you don't stop making a scene--"