We've all used one before: You go in, try on your clothes, find out you're actually much fatter than you thought (or hoped), and try again until you are utterly depressed. Some of us will take the time and energy to put back what we don't want, or at least leave them on the discard rack on the way out.
But oh no, not in DCR.
We DCR slaves--er, employees, find evidence that we are not being shopped by people... but rather...
...
Giant, mutant, alien pigs! That's right, alien pigs are a real threat to DCR-land. I myself recently had the misfortune to come across hard evidence of a female alien pig, while cleaning the fitting rooms at the end of the day. (Pay very close attention if you suspect that you, or someone you love, may be, be possesed by, or have a problem with a female alien pig).
Our fitting rooms are very small. But you'd be amazed what alien pigs can fit into such a small place. One night, our manager was performing her closing duties, and I went to check the fitting rooms, as is my custom. I start by opening each one and removing whatever is left in it. As pulled the curtain aside to room #3, I was assaulted by an avalanche of intimate apparel! Bras, panites, boy shorts, thongs, you name it, it was there! I couldn't step into the room for fear of being eaten by the living slobber residue female alien pigs leave behind.
But, against all the odds of being eaten, or buried alive and suffocated in the lingerie and never to be heard from again, I managed to replace every item on a hanger properly. Then I remarked to myself through a flood of tears, both of sorrow and of terror: "Why can't these alien pigs learn to cover their trails?!"
I am currently undergoing psychological treatment, and, I'm happy to report, am making wonderful progress!