This guy means nothing but trouble, and you know it. You turn to briskly walk away, and are met with the heavy pull of the many skirts you're wearing under the gown, and your legs kick into the walls of satin. You are surprised how difficult it is to start walking in the dress, and grab handfuls of the skirts to lift up the front, making a brisk walk easier to maintain.
"Hey, c'mon!" the drunk whines, following you. "Where's my little princess think she's off to?"
You keep your eyes forward, walking as best as you can on your heels, maintaining a steady pace down the pathway. The weight of your outfit, along with the padding sealed onto your body, sways back and forth rather heavily. You wonder how long you can keep up this pace, considering your attachments and dress must weight close to 100lbs. With the dress, makeup, and hairdo, you look like a bride straight out of My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding, and you've seen how heavy and painful those gowns can be to wear for any length of time.
"Fine..." grumbles the drunk. "If you're ever interested in meeting your Prince, I'll be sleeping right here..."
And with that, the drunk passes out on the ground. Breathing a sigh of relief, you exit the park, and the bright street lamps put a spotlight on your embarrassing situation. You stop moving for a bit, dropping the skirts from your arms, catching your breath.
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