Find some outfits! Why not?

"Huh. Sure," you say, never having interacted with such a go-getter sales clerk before. "I'm not sure you know her style, though."

"Come with me then," said the clerk, walking off.

You hurried to follow her, noting as you went how many more mannequins were positioned about the clothing sections of the store than a typical athletics store. You hadn't noticed it from the front, but almost every rack and hanger in the women's section featured a mannequin display right next to it.

Interestingly, the default mannequin dimensions aren't the tall, elegant things you're familiar with, but rather feature a standardized 5 feet tall shape, athletic build, complete with indents for abs and defined musculature in the limbs.

Everything in the store, from clothing displays to clerks, seems designed to ease the shopping experience for short, fit women, or someone shopping on their behalf.

The clerk, whose nametag reads Wren, efficiently assembles a couple entire outfits based on the limited information you're able to give her about Christina.

It's fun. Very fun. But it all leaves you with an uncanny, aimless feeling. If you changed so much with a couple rules, how much would change if you added a few more?

"Here's a simple lounge-runner outfit," says Wren the clerk, spreading one outfit on the table for your perusal.

Her choice consists of a pair of long red spandex shorts, a matching sports bra, with running shoes, with a roomy sleeveless jersey. You can't help but picture how great Ris would look in it.

"And, since it's summer, a beachwear set," says Wren.

The clerk lays out a pair of boyish briefs, water shoes, and a matching black wetsuit style top riddled with pockets and pouches. It looks like something a Navy seal might don on an **** (albeit a very small, feminine Navy seal), rather than the cute swimsuit you've seen Christina prance about in in the past.

Though picturing Ris in the commando getup, with the cheeky swim shorts and the top left unzipped... it's like some kind of calendar-grade softcore tomboy fantasy come to life.

Wren folds her hands in front of her with a grin, knowing she did her job very well. "I can dress a mannequin for you if you'd like to see how they look," she hints. "Or I could ring you up at the front...?"

"I don't know," you say, fretting. "Women never like the clothes I buy for them."

Wren snorts. "Never dated a thera before, huh? Trust me. These are fine. Ask your girlfriend over if you'd like. However much she hates shopping, all she has to do is say yes or no."

The strange assumption that Ris hates shopping reminds you again this is your doing. The Rulebook truly is absolute. All of society has conformed itself to your silly interest in petite tomboys who don't waste time shopping for clothes.