Ammy's led her to a Terri-ble fate.

...that Ammy, cosplaying dog extraordinaire, had chased the ball right under a demo stage. Ammy was frustratedly poking her snout under the stage in a fruitless attempt to reach Zenyatta's ball.

The space between the raised floor and the ground was barely a foot and a half, with most of that taken up by supports pegs and electrical wires. A few feet away, the stage proudly advertised the newest series of some kind of action figures- or figmas, as Lynn insisted Terri call them. Terri didn't see how that mattered- they were pretty cool anyway.

What did matter was that a fair amount of people were milling around the sides of the small, if well-lit, displays. Heads turned to see a breathless Tracer, missing her bomber jacket, come to a screeching halt beside the snuffling sun goddess.

"There you are, you bloody hound," Terri panted. "You're a right handful, you know that? First you rip my pants- er, trousers. Then you make me run across half the con floor! Why, I have half a mind to tell your owner on you!"

Ammy paused her snuffling just long enough to look up at Terri and give her the saddest, most adorable puppy eyes in the world.

"Awww," Terri gushed. She couldn't stay mad at that face. "All right, love. You win. Now, just come with me and let's give back that poor Omnic's ball. Everything will be all right, you'll see..."

Terri bent over to grab Ammy's leash before the dog could escape. Too late, she realized she'd made a terrible mistake.

Pop!

Terri froze in horror as she felt the stitching between her legs begin to give out. Unbeknownst to her, her mad dash across the con floor had widened the hole in her yellow crotch-seam from the size of a fingertip to an inches-long tear along her shoddily-sewn seam.

PopPopPop!

More busting stitches and a flush of cold air between her legs snapped Terri out of her shock. Quick as a flash, she pressed one hand between her legs and the other over her lower butt, but the damage was done. She could feel seemingly acres of bare skin on her fingers. The crotch-seam had split right down the middle and popped straight towards the bottom of her butt- a little more and it might finish ripping all the way up.

Terri's heart raced and her face flushed red in shame. A thousand questions flooded her mind. How bad was the damage? Had anyone seen her blowout? Could she fix it? How much teasing would she get from Lynn if she knew she'd been right about Terri's terrible stitching?

Terri knew she couldn't move her hands away from her crotch for anything. Otherwise, she'd flash everyone her specially chosen underwear. The pair she'd picked as a joke more than anything else. The pair that made her giggle and feel really like Tracer, all the way down.

Terri had to get to the cosplay repair room as fast as possible- but if she did, her leggings might split in two. Not to mention she had Ammy to watch out for. She held her hands tight over her crotch, panic rising as she realized how trapped she was.

A few people who had been wrapped up in the figma displays were moving on and noticing the strange scene beside the stage: an awkwardly posed, mostly-dressed Tracer, and a dog costumed like Amaterasu trying to dig its way through some electric cables to get to a ball.

Someone in the crowd laughed loudly, realizing what was going on. Terri began to sweat as a few people stopped to look at her. She had to be heroic and save herself from this situation before it got worse!