Mark wanted to be anywhere else but at the convention. In fact, he'd like to be anywhere else at that convention, rather than under this purple presenter's pantyhosed posterior. But had more keeping him down than just undergarments. Kat was blackmailing him; and the were three tiny attendees she'd kept trapped. So if he didn't want to get her angry, he'd have to play along.

But something about that first contestant's tone made him think. Mentioning cosplay, changing the world, and collecting friends... It gave him an idea. Something that could help get him out, while still not revealing him.

Gail's backside kept weighing down on him, pushing deeper into the chair. His head was getting red. No time to waste. He asked: "Where would you keep a tiny person? Like me, I mean."

With a giggle, the host tapped her backside, increasing the pressure on him slightly. "Lucky people, Link already wants to stay with you! So, your answers?"

Contestant 1 thought for an agonizing second, while Mark felt the rear rolling on him. "Mmnh, short-term or long-term? Depends on what suits their style best, but - probably a purse or closet. A nice, comfy spot with plenty of room." They giggled.

Mark held his breath. He had trouble telling how anyone was reacting. All his senses but sight were thoroughly muffled.

#2 answered next: "At a safe distance."

He took a second to let that soak over him. Was #2 even really trying? Though faced with the all-encompassing booty, a little space would be nice.

The third one spoke: "Tinies belong in shoes and bellies. Nowhere else."

Laughter emerged from the peanut gallery. One man shouted: "What about handplay?"

#3's masked voice was humorless. "You're vanilla." For some reason, the chortling grew louder, rattling his seat.

Mark made a mental note: when this activity was over, leave this room quickly with whoever. Do not make eye contact with anyone.

"Remember to keep it respectful! Don't want anyone getting hurt." The host turned, causing intense, crushing pain for the boy beneath. "The time has come, and so have we, for the last question! Back to you, faithful viewers!" She arched forward, the fabric grinding over his face.

From the rowdy attendees, a voice answered the call: "What's your favorite music genre?"

Very quickly, the first entrant chirped: "Pop! Bubblegum pop! J-pop! K-pop! City pop! Pop Rock! It's so sweet."

Contestant #2 waited for a second - maybe for the excitement to calm? - before speaking: "Orchestral scores. I blame Hans Zimmer."

The third one took even longer contemplating. They hummed a little, while Mark wailed against the wall of fabric above. They finished: "Throat chanting."

Gail waited still longer for the audience to silence. It made the bit underneath feel ready to burst. He tried to take his mind away from the dark surroundings, and focus on his choices. He still wasn't sure: was this just a long gag, or would it determine who he'd stay with for the day?

Contestant 1 liked cosplay, pop, and would keep him in a bag. Incredibly cheerful.

Contestant 2 was quieter. Liked comics, movie scores, and wanted to keep away from tiny people.

Contestant 3 was a joke. They just had to be. Couldn't be any other explanation.

The host clapped her hands briefly, and spoke up: "Three lovely contestants, but only one will eat a chocolate stick with little Link! So, Hero of Time, who do you choose?"

Mark lifted his head as high as he could, and said: