Sexy Sniper.

What I'm wearing specifically is a sexy sniper outfit, comprised of impossibly tiny black micro-shorts, which have an inseam of about half an inch and squeeze everywhere I don't want them to, a pair of thigh high socks, black army boots, an assortment of ammo pouches that didn't cover anything important, and a giant prop rifle. That's it.

The skimpy "costume" didn't include a shirt of any kind, and wouldn't stop giving me a wedgie, which brings me to the worst part of all... I wasn't allowed to wear anything underneath the shorts. Though their fabric wasn't too thin, and it was clearly a sturdy and well-made costume all around, I was in a constant state of worrying about a potential wardrobe malfunction. Even a minor accident would allow the crowded exhibition hall to see my penis!

Okay, um, forget I said anything... Let's talk about my friends costumes next.

Natalie has been decked out with a green body-paint based costume of some Frankenstein's monster type character, with a tight bandeau, denim booty shorts, a small brown vest, fingerless gloves, a pair of neck-bolts, and heavy platform work boots. The whole getup was effective at showing off her incredible, muscular physique, including her six-pack, and like me, she was humiliated just to be wearing it.

And lastly, wearing a skimpy lace-up bustier which pushed her ample breasts upward, a pointy black hat, a completely transparent ankle-length skirt, opera gloves, thigh-high leather boots with high heels, and a thong, which was clearly visible under the see-through skirt, was Raquel, who, unlike us, didn't apparently mind displaying every private contour of her chubby, curvaceous body in provocative witch regalia. She also managed to sneak her pet beagle in, duplicitously informing our boss that Ace was a cat, and that witches had cats.

Our characters were from some fighting game about hot monsters battling against hot monster hunters, and their names are, respectively: Remington the Hunter, Victoria Bolt, and Grand Magus Luna.

The three of us are mostly just standing around, attempting to tempt con-goers hither with our titillating costumes and excessive exposed flesh, striking the occasional victory pose. All those eyes on my scandalously dressed body leave me blushing the whole time. Oh, the things I'll do for a paycheck.

After a while, the small, scraggly, asexual man running the booth jogs excitedly over to us, bouncing a little, over the moon just to be at a convention. He informs us, "You're doing fantastic so far! Absolutely radical, but, I've got a slight change of pace coming up for you. The next assignment I have for you three is..."