Chapter Four Hundred and One. Look, bathtubs are a sore point for tall guys.

Chapter Four Hundred and One. Look, bathtubs are a sore point for tall guys.

Bob flopped down on the huge bed in the rather nice hotel room.

Whoever had designed the room had clearly decided to err on the side of caution on the off chance that their clientele would top fifteen feet in height. That left the room feeling every so slightly oversized, which was a pleasant change from crouching in Dave and Amanda's house.

His armband vibrated, and he tapped it, seeing a message from Dave.

'So, I know you don't have much in the line of clothing, especially with our new sizes. I called in a favor from an acquaintance of mine, and he's going to come up and do a quick job of getting you fitted with a suit. Amanda loves to dress up when we go out, even if it's just to our old Denny's, and I know Jessica is going to wear something nice, and I didn't want you to feel like the odd man out.'

Followed immediately by a message from Amanda.

'Hey! Dave is sending Larry to get you fitted for a suit. I love Dave, but he's a man, so he probably didn't mention the color of Jessica's dress tonight, which is cerulean blue. Your tie and square don't need to match perfectly, but they ought to at least be in the same ballpark. One day you'll find that life is easier when you just let your girl pick your clothes out for you :)'

Bob sighed.

They weren't wrong, exactly. He leaned heavily on his Summon Mana-Infused Object spell, especially for things that he didn't want to have to wash, like dishes, cutlery, towels, sheets, and, yes, clothing. He'd mastered a pair of slacks and a long-sleeved button-down shirt and called it good enough.

With a thought, he pulled Monroe out of his inventory, depositing the uber-floof next to him on the huge bed.

"Mreow?" Monroe asked questioningly.

"Nope, no murder, just a room where we're going to stay for a couple of days," Bob replied.

Monroe responded by stretching, circling twice, then curling up in a purrball, somehow nudging Bob to the edge of the bed in the process.

Bob reached over and stroked Monroe's long, silky fur. "This is a good place for a kitty to nap, yes it is," he murmured. "Kitty so tired, no one appreciates how hard it is to be a kitty," he commiserated before rolling off the bed and standing up.

Walking into the bathroom, he cocked his head to the side as he inspected the bathtub.

The thing about being over six feet tall was that he didn't fit in bathtubs. At least not the ones in the shitty apartments he'd lived in as both a child and then an adult. Interestingly enough, Thayland didn't go in for baths, or at least the Adventurers Guild didn't. It was straight-up showers in both Holmstead and the poor side of the Guild in Harbordeep.

As he'd tiered up and his height had increased, the chances of a bath had seemed even less likely.

Now, he was looking at a bathtub that would not only fit him but Monroe as well, with room to spare. It had a series of nozzles in the tub and a contoured bottom that showed it was designed for people his size, if not larger, to relax comfortably in the tub.

Turning on the water, he watched it fill as he investigated the controls on the edge of the tub. He felt a smile creep over his face. He'd always wanted to try a bath.

Bob jerked awake as a series of loud knocks sounded across the suite. Blinking, he sat up in the tub, noting that the water was still hot and wondering if he'd just dozed off. He pulled the lever to let the tub drain and hit the button to turn off the water jets. Standing, he climbed out of the tub, summoning a towel and running it over himself to wipe away most of the water still clinging to his skin.

"Just a second!" Bob called as he tossed the towel into the draining tub, dismissing it before summoning a new one which he wrapped around himself.

Padding across the suite, he marveled at just how soft the carpet was. Carpet was something he'd never really appreciated before, although given how much Monroe had used to shed, it hadn't really been an option.

He opened the door and found a tall, broad-shouldered man waiting for him. "You Bob?" He asked.

"I am," Bob replied. "I'm guessing you're Larry?"

"I never thought about it?" Bob admitted.

"We become tailors," Larry replied with a grin as he sliced the cloth with a pair of scissors with sure, swift motions. "It worked out for me in the end, although I was a little bitter about it before the System showed up. Never took it out on anyone, but it stung, working in a shop in Beverly Hills, fitting suits on b list actors. Paid the bills, though," he continued, holding up the piece he'd cut from the fabric, nodding to himself as he began cutting another. "Don't get me wrong, there are still fashion houses, and the shit you can do with not only magic but magical materials is mind-blowing," he shook his head. "But for a truly upscale product, it has to be bespoke now, and I'm not talking the bespoke you'd find on Saville Row. From start to finish, everything is produced by either one person or, more rarely, a small group of people with the cooperation skill. You can't have a machine card this wool, not if you want it to retain all of its properties. The same principle applies across every step of the process."

Larry had kept working while he spoke and had finished sewing the two pieces of cloth together. "Of course, there are some things that magic hasn't improved on yet," he said as he pulled out a length of elastic waistband.

It was a matter of moments for Larry to sew the waistband to the top of the underwear before he handed them to Bob with a flourish.

"Try those on, and you'll weep for all the days you spent in summoned drawers," Larry advised, his smile widening.

"I'll be right back," Bob said, accepting the underwear and heading into the bathroom.

"You know my 'Custom Mannequin' skill shows me your whole body, right?" Larry called out. "It sort of has to, otherwise, you'll end up with too much, or worse, too little room for your twig and berries."

Bob dismissed his summoned towel and slid first one leg, then the other, into the new shorts. Pulling them up, his eyes widened. He'd been willing to go along with Larry because Dave and Amanda had called in a favor, but he was now sold. Summoning a pair of slacks, he put them on, marveling at just how well his new underwear fit him. Nothing stuck to anything else, and he did a little hop and confirmed that everything remained in place.

Walking out of the bathroom, Bob offered Larry a smile. "These are amazing," he admitted.

"What did I tell ya?" Larry beamed. "I know the fabric is nice, but I'll bet you've never had anything properly fitted before, eh?"

"I haven't," Bob agreed. "I have to admit, I'm kind of looking forward to what the pants and shirt are like."

"Well, let's get down to it then," Larry started pulling out swatches of fabric. "The thing about Mountain Mist wool is that you can't really bleach it, but if it's fine enough, you can layer another fabric inside it, as long as that one is broad enough. Take a look at these."

"I love your hair," Amanda sighed as she finished pinning the loose bun in place.

"Please, I'd kill for those raven tresses," Jessica replied as she carefully dusted the barest hint of eye shadow across her eyelids.

"Not with that alabaster skin," Amanda disagreed. "You'd look like some sort of natural goth, and the first flock of them that tried to approach you, assuming you were one of their own, would explode from the sheer radiance of your good mood. They're susceptible to that sort of thing, you know."

"You looked amazing as a goth girl," Jessica grinned over her shoulder. "You killed it with that whole princess of the night vibe."

"Dave did like it," Amanda said smugly. "Still does, in fact."

"Well, I'll have to be content with my surfer girl look," Jessica looked in the mirror.

She was wearing her blue dress, which matched her eyes almost perfectly. It was cut modestly in the front, showing just a hint of cleavage, while the back dipped almost scandalously low, showing off the dimples over her ass. It clung to her from bust to ankle, with long slits leading halfway up her thighs.

She wore simple sapphire earrings, and her golden hair was piled up in a loose bun, with a few errant tendrils escaping to artfully frame her face.

"What do you think?" Jessica asked, turning to check her appearance from all angles.

"Poor Bob," Amanda replied teasingly. "He's not ready for this."

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