Part 3 - Dress for Success/Gaining Popularity
Security was set up all around the hotel, guarding every door, window and vent accessible. On the inside, an advisor from NASA was making plans with our alien visitors. Or, more likely, the Bustimus were telling the advisor what they wanted.
<We want to be able to have visitors. No reporters or journalists. Regular civilians, including tourists and supervised children, will be allowed every half an hour until an inconvenient time of night. Most likely 9 p.m.>
"Very well," the advisor said, writing it all down. "I suggest food be brought up for you and for guests."
<We do not eat. The food shall be for guests>
"The press conference at the White House will be in a week. How else do you want to prepare for it?"
<We want a tailor to make clothes that will fit us>
<We believe the people of the world will feel more comfortable if we were to wear clothing>
The advisor looked again at their large figures. Their breasts were probably too large for any bra; their hips and large rump were probably too large for any pants, shorts, or jeans; and the rest of their body was probably too big for any shoes or shirt of any kind.
When he realized that he was staring, he shook his head to get back on track. "Sorry for staring."
<We do not mind. We expect humans to be surprised to be in the presence of an alien, and at the same time be impressed or aroused by what you would call are behinds and breasts>
"Huh. Sounds like you've thought of everything."
<We do not plan out everything. We only have an understanding of the consequences of every action. That is why we have studied your species for so long>
"Uh, clever," the advisor said, "I shall leave you to.....whatever it is you do. If anything comes up, you can call security." And with that, he left.
The first three people to be let up to the Bustimus' hotel room was a mother, her husband and their son. They were screened for weapons or any harmful substances, then let up in the elevator to the hotel room.
When they saw the alien, the mother kept her son close. "Mom!" the son groaned.
The father stepped forward to speak. "Uh, hello, and, uh, welcome to our planet."
<Thank you. We appreciate your acceptance of the invitation to be able to speak to us. You have 25 minutes with us, so we have plenty of time for you to ask questions and form your opinion about us when you return home>
At first, the family of three said nothing. Out of nervousness and slight disgust, the mother said, "D-do you plan on getting any sort of clothing?"
<We have sent out a request for a tailor to make us clothing that will fit us>
The father cleared his throat. "So......we watched your announcement about the weapons........do you plan on making any changes to....private lives?"
<No. We respect human privacy, and do not with to invade it>
"Well, thank you," he said, taking a sigh of relief.
The kid noticed another Bust sitting at a desk, typing on a laptop. "Is that alien playing a game?" The young boy asked. <No. It is responding to questions that humans ask us on the site you call "Facebook"> "Oh," the boy said with a look of disappointment.
Another question popped in his head. "Can you play video games?" <In general terms, yes, we can. At this moment, we are using the laptop for other purposes>
"But you're famous!" the boy exclaimed. "You can get anything you want!"
"Daniel," the mother said to him, "I don't think that they're interested in video games that much."
<We are not. But we think it is a good idea to allow any visitors to come up and bring a gaming console if they wish to interact with us by playing video games. We thank you for the idea>
"Oh! Well, your welcome!" the mother said. "Mom! They meant me!"
And so more visitors came and went. Though only few came, public appreciation of the Gremlins rose. And though many had similar conversations, they all had that one question that stood out among the rest - most of them basic.
"How old is your species?"
<The lifespan of our species spans over thousands of millennia, though we are not the first>
"Where do you come from?"
<Our planet or origin is billions of miles away from your planet. We as a species have travelled to many empty planets to study new species>
"Do you believe in a higher power? Like Jesus or God?"
<We do not have a religion because we know how we were created>
"How were you created?"
<We were created as an experiment by another species. They wanted to see if they could create a species that can learn more about the universe than they did. The creator species is now deceased, but knowing that their experiment worked, they wished us to bring the universe together in peace. That is our mission. That is why we are here on Earth>
And the questions kept coming as the visitors kept coming.
After two days, the tailor they requested finally came. As he entered, his eyes opened wide.
<We are thankful that you have come at this time>
"I.......didn't think you would all be this tall when I looked at the photos."
<Will you be able to create clothing for us by the time the press conference arrives?> "Uh.....of course!" he said, trying to fight the urge to stare at them.
<You are allowed to stare if you wish> "You don't mind? I might need to do quite a bit of staring in my work," he said with a chuckle. <Unlike humans, we do not have a sense of privacy. We do not have a sense of intimate contact either>
The man looked at the Bust before him, surprised. "Wow. So you wouldn't feel angry at all if someone were to just slap your big ass?" He chuckled again before stopping himself. "Sorry."
<To answer your question, no. We would not be offended. As for your language, we are not offended by words that your society would consider inappropriate>
"Good to know. Oh! I almost forgot to introduce myself!" He held out his hand toward the Bust he was speaking to. "I'm Tony Warshall, but you may call me Tony."
The Gremlin shook his hand. <We are pleased to meet you, Tony>
"Likewise. Now, for your clothing," he said, inspecting the Bust before him, "I'll have to take some measurements." The Bust speaking, well, thinking to him held its arms out. <You may measure me. We are all the same size>
Tony looked around in confusion. "Uh, which one was speaking to me?" <The one closest to you>
Tony nodded and immediately went to work. He measured the large hips, the large bust, the legs, and the shoulders. Once or twice, he had to stretch his arms all the way around the Bust's hips, resulting in him having his face engulfed in its breasts.
They felt nice, and very soft. It was almost like resting on a the world's softest pillows. They were also surprisingly warm.
When he hugged the hips, it felt like the alien's body was a giant, squeezable rag doll. He couldn't help but try to sneak a moment of intimacy, seeing as the Bust wouldn't mind.
After finishing up the measurements and feeling around the body, the Tony had done the first part of his job.
"I have the measurements and notes I need, and you can bet that I can make every one of you a fancy suit for the press conference!" <Thank you. We appreciate you filling in our request>
"Hey, anything for business, ladies! Wait.....you're all 'genderless', right?" <That it correct> He nodded, apologized, then left the hotel room to finish the rest of his job.
And so the visitors kept coming all week, all of them asking different questions. The Gremlins had to explain countless times how they had no sense of privacy, no sense of intimacy, no gender, and weren't offended by foul language.
"So you can't have sex with any species?"
<We do not have the reproductive organs to neither create offspring nor interact sexually with your kind or any other>
"How can your species keep itself under control if you have no specific set of laws or rules to follow?"
<Our species is what yours would call a "pure democracy." Every one of us plays a part in the advancement of our species and many others. No one Gremlin has more powerful than another>
"Are you just emotionless, or are you all just strictly polite or something?"
<We are emotionless. We say terms such as "thank you" to your kind to be courteous>
"Does your species lie?"
<We do not lie. We do not restrict the truth from anyone who asks for it>
With the idea of the Bustimus not having a sense of privacy or intimacy spreading, some visitors had more personal requests. Some asked for hugs, some asked for cuddles; the Gremlins allowed them to do so.
All of them felt happier around the Bustimus when they hugged or cuddled with them. Perhaps it was because of something that the Gremlins could fulfill that others couldn't.
Perhaps it was the sense of innocence that came with them - that the Bustimus could be that friend that would care about them; that friend that could be there when they were sad or having troubles with life; that could possibly save the human race from greed and anarchy and chaos with their peace and that sense of innocence.
Whatever it was, it lead to the public approval of the newcomers rising higher and higher in the polls. Though there were some who didn't approve, something inside them was beginning to understand what these Busti were bringing to the people: a sense of hope, a sense of a brighter future, and a sense of happiness that told them "everything will be okay. Everything will be alright."
A day before the conference, Tony returned with three large suits, all the right size for the aliens.
"I had to use a ton of linen and lining and silk," he said, "But I was able to make three identical suits for you. I hope that you will find these suits satisfactory."
The Busti each came up and put on their suits respectively. All of them fit perfectly; the pants wrapped their large rumps comfortably, and the suits successfully covered their large chests without revealing too much cleavage.
<Thank you. These suits will appeal to the public in a good manner. We appreciate the effort you put into these pieces> "Anytime, ladies!" The tailor said, a content look on his face. "If you need anything else - dresses, casual clothing - just contact me!" <We will>
And with that, Tony left the hotel room, leaving the Busti to continue working on their speech for the press conference.