"Did you need help, ma'am?" you hear a voice behind you, and suddenly, the salesman from before is standing there. You didn't hear him approach, so it startles you visibly. "Sorry about the confusion before, the script said "sir" and that's what I rehearsed."
"Um, okay..." you stammer, running your hand through your hair. "But uh, yeah, I did have a question. What's with all the photographs?"
"Oh, the photographs are designed to show the clothing off to prospective buyers," the salesman tells you. "See, like Bella Liona here - you've got the top, the cargo shorts, and the bandana. You know the shirt is made from real African fibers?"
"No, no, that's not what I mean - it's... well, look, the model, she's not exactly... human," you say pointing at the photo. The lion-woman model is reclining on a rock on the Savannah.
"I don't understand the question," he answers, looking at you with a squint in his eyes.
"I mean, is it just makeup or CGI or something? I'm just curious, because the effects look really well-done."
"Oh, it's not an effect. The model is a lion-woman."
"What? That's ridiculous!" you suppress the urge to laugh, thinking that would be even more rude than what you just uttered.
"No, it isn't. That's what the clothes do, you see. They prepare you for a trip in the wild unlike any other garment. All of our clothes have some sort of magical effect on the body."
"This can't be real."
"If it can't be real, why not try on an outfit yourself?" He asks you, folding his arms at his chest. It's clearly a challenge.