Mostly just a lot of clothes

The store is quite spacious inside, leaving the four of you plenty of room to stand and loiter as you plan your next move. Harley looks relieved to have gained a reprieve from the mall's crowded halls, and both dolls are obviously pleased to be surrounded by the comforting normalcy of a clothing store.

"So," Allura begins, casting an apathetic eye toward her master, "are you going to do the right thing?"

Callum, who had clearly been busy considering your advice, reacts to her vague question with a look of utter mystification.

"Huh?"

"Clothes." she clarifies. "I need them. Something other than this... This..."

"Hobbit's spank rag?" you offer, garnering an identical look of revulsion from both AI-driven companions.

"...Yeah. Especially now that you've called it that."

"Well, I got bad news for you." Callum responds, "I'm broke as shit. So, unless our boy here is willing to spot me that'll probably be your look for awhile."

Allura looks to you hopefully but you offer only a firm shake of the head in reply, being unwilling to take on the burden of another doll's expenses.

"...Well, fine." she pouts, losing a little of her combative edge in the face of such staunch denials, "I'll just wander about and window-shop, then."

"You do that." he encourages, suddenly turning to you and Harley:

"You're good to watch her for me, right? I gotta take a shit."

"TMI." says Harley.

"Agreed." you start, flashing your doll a quick grin of approval, "But, yeah, I guess Cal. We'll be in here. Somewhere."

"Shouldn't be too hard to find you guys; I'll just keep an eye out for the almost-naked chick."

With that, Callum walks out the store's front entrance and back into the bustling crowd, leaving you and Harley alone.

The ivory-skinned beauty turns her back on you right away, getting down to the business of rifling through the nearest clothing rack as if she'd been restraining the impulse all along.

"So, Harley... You want to tell me what we're doing here?"

An innocent enough question, you'd think... Yet the girl reacts to it by sighing deeply, plainly annoyed at the prospect of having to answer it.

"Getting clothes."

"Okay. You remember what I told you though, right? About the whole 'you can only cover 1% of your body' situation?"

"Yes."

"Hey." you rumble, suddenly stern. "None of that. I'm trying to help you out, here."

After a prolonged silence Harley's shoulders slump, and with another sigh - one of resignation, this time - she turns back to face you again.

"Sorry." she murmurs. The doll shuffles her bare feet, looking between you and the various store departments as she goes on:

"It's just... There has to be something here that I can actually wear, right?"

"I wouldn't bank on it. I did the math when I was waiting for your pod to show up, and based on that I'd guess you've got another square inch of skin you can cover up. At most."

Harley looks crestfallen after hearing your analysis. Her eyes continue to dart around the store, though, as if expecting to alight upon the microgarment of her dreams at any moment.

Now it's your turn to sigh.

"Okay, look." you begin, against your better judgement. "We're here, so you if you want to do a circuit and see for yourself, be my guest. But I'm not buying anything you can't try on without sweating and I'm NOT carrying your shit, alright?"

"Okay!" she chirps, wasting no time in making a beeline for the nearest relevant section - swimwear.

And thus, the cold, bleak purgatorial exercise of clothes shopping with a female companion commences. Time begins to flow together, and only the bobbing of Harley's plump ass and the occasional jiggle of her oversized jugs keeps you in-the-moment enough to register the departments you're passing through.

Only after several minutes - or was it days? - do you finally emerge from your complacent haze, standing with Harley in the most intriguing wing of the clothing store (and, indeed, most clothing stores):

The dressing rooms.