"I can't believe I'm fucking doing this." Joni growled to herself. She had somehow managed to clip the last suspender into place—with Traci's help.
"You look so awesome, Joni, you can't even tell it's a different size than most of them!"
Joni's skirt was longer, for sure, but it still qualified as a short skirt in her mind, and she despised it.
"Who's fucking idea was this literal song and dance show?"
"I dunno! But isn't it great that they did?" Traci's slight chub made the risque outfit look even more scanty. The best way to describe it was as a cheerleader outfit, though even that was a stretch.
Joni clenched her teeth. "Yes, it's amazing; I'm so fucking ecstatic I could kill someone."
The dim-witted dog couldn't help but laugh at her friend's seethe-laden remark. "Oh, c'mon, silly pittie, this is way better than the usual boring stuff they have us doing!"
"Speak for yourself, Traci; this is fucking hell. SINGING and DANCING, Traci, we're being turned into stage acts."
"Actually, we aren't really going to be singing." Traci leaned forward. "Though don't let the watching people know," she whispered. "Stagemandler made me remember that!"
"Even worse, we're pretending to sing while dancing to a fucking ABBA song, Traci." Joni had to look away from the mirror to take her own words seriously.
"Aww, I like ABBA!" Traci cleared her throat and took a breath. "~Oooh see that girl; watch that scene; digging the Dancing Queen~."
"Do not fucking START!" Joni suddenly turned and snapped at Traci. "This is humiliating enough without you proving how much you like it!"
The golden retriever dogwoman, like always, took her friend's anger in stride. "I can't help but like it, Joni; this is gonna be fun!"
"NO, IT ISN'T!" Joni suddenly shouted. "We're fucking DOGWOMEN for Christ's sake; we're supposed to be goddamn super soldiers, not fucking dancing queerbos in this stupid gawdy shit!"
Traci's eyes went wide. "I...I'm sorry..." She frowned heavily. "I forgot you don't like rainbow stuff..."
"It isn't the color, Traci; it's that we're being treated like fucking performing animals instead of people!" Joni huffed angrily. "Anyone ever tell you how fucking insulting this is!?"
Traci nodded slowly. "I'm sorry, Joni...I'm just trying to have fun with it."
"Well, STOP fucking having fun with it! This is demeaning!" In her anger, Joni's tail swished, making the skirt ride up her hips more than it already was. She swore and tugged at the hem with a growl. "I'm fucking sick of feeling like a trained mutt...now they literally want me to dance around with my ass hanging out."
Traci opened her mouth to apologize more before there was a knock at their shared quarters' door. "Uh...come in?" Traci squeaked nervously. She really hoped it wasn't their stage trainer come to scold her; the woman terrified her.
The door opened, and Emily entered the room. "Hey girls, I just wanted to check and see if... Whoa..." Her eyes immediately traveled the length of Joni's body. "Somebody got dolled up. You look great!" Her tone quickly changed once she noticed how miserable Joni looked. "Er...is everything okay in here?"
Joni scoffed, crossing her arms and turning away from her. "No, everything is NOT fucking okay...how the hell are you so nonchalant about this bullshit?"
Emily gave an awkward smile as she stepped further into the room. "I mean...it could be worse?"
Traci nodded. "That's what I said!"
"Shut up, Traci!" Joni barked, silencing her friend. She focused back on Emily. "I don't see how the fuck it could be worse. They literally want us prancing around on stage in revealing costumes while pretending to sing." She motioned to herself. "This is fucking demeaning..."
Emily sighed and moved closer, sitting down on Traci's cot across from her. "I know this seems really bad, but try to look on the bright side. At least we get to pick our own songs and do our own choreography. It's not all THAT scripted." She offered an empathetic smile. "I think we just need to make the best of this situation."
"Well, maybe you fucking can, but I'm goddamn sick of making the best of shit situations." Joni's tail swished in clear annoyance beneath her costume's short skirt.
Traci tilted her head. "Emily, where's Mady? She's supposed to be the lead!"
A sly grin appeared on Joni's muzzle at the realization. "Oh, Shit, you're right—where the hell is the star of the show?" She laughed coldly. "Don't tell me the smug bitch refuses to be seen in one of these."
Emily bit her lip. "Well, Madison kinda stormed off earlier. I tried talking to her, but she's clearly taking this even harder than Joni."
The pittie laughed louder. "Are you fucking kidding me!? Miss Perfect can't handle showing some ass and shaking her tits!?"
"I mean, she's always been really prim and proper," Emily clarified. "She probably feels even more awkward than usual having to dress like this..."
"Well, that's just too goddamn bad..." Joni crossed her arms. "She can cry me a river, then drown herself in it..."
Traci frowned a little. "Aw, that's mean..." She looked between Emily and Joni nervously. "Should we go talk to her?"
"Just leave the bitch be..." Joni waved it off and tugged at her own outfit again, bunching the hem of her tiny skirt in her fingers. "If she wants to throw a tantrum, let her..."
Emily shook her head. "If she doesn't come around soo—" But her dialogue was interrupted by the door kicking in the most "elegant" way Madison could muster. She wasn't a dogwoman to lose her composure over nothing—but the blush through her furred cheeks told a different story.
Joni started laughing mockingly the moment she caught sight of the flustered German shepherd. "Oh, fucking hell...look who finally decided to show her face." She motioned towards her. "Nice outfit, princess!"
Emily quickly stood up. "Madison! Are...are you alright?"
Rather than answering, Maddy moved to her bed and began rummaging through her foot locker, giving the others a rather scantily-clad view of her backside.
Joni grinned, clearly enjoying her rival's discomfort way too much. "What's the matter, Maddy? Nothing to say?"
"Don't call me Maddy..." She finally spoke through gritted teeth, her ears pinned back in clear annoyance.
Emily moved closer, trying to offer some physical comfort. "It's okay, Madison... I know this whole thing is silly, but—"
"It isn't silly..." Madison cut her off, finally turning around with a makeup kit clutched in her hands. "It's humiliating..." Her usually immaculate fur looked disheveled and unkempt. She glanced in the mirror and winced at her own appearance before locking eyes with Joni. "This...outfit is unacceptable!"
Joni scoffed, motioning to her own outfit—an oversized version of Madison's. "Yeah, no fucking shit, it's unacceptable... Join the goddamn club!" She smirked, savoring her rival's misfortune.
Traci tilted her head, looking between them. "How come your guys' outfits are different than mine and Emily's?" Hers was a two-piece outfit more reminiscent of something a figure skater would wear—though with a scandalously short skirt. Emily wore a similar leotard outfit, hers powder blue compared to Traci's pink. "They're so pretty!"
"I don't know..." Emily admitted before motioning to Madison's outfit—a risque one-piece covered in glitter that clung to her fur and hugged every curve. "But I guess the producers think Maddy should stand out more?"
"Of course they fucking do..." Joni growled. "Little Miss Perfect HAS to be the center of attention." She focused back on her smugly. "They certainly accomplished that, huh?"
Madison bared her teeth, looking like she wanted to pounce across the room and tear out Joni's throat. "This outfit is completely inappropriate! I didn't agree to prance around in...in THIS!"
Joni laughed louder. "None of us fucking did!" She motioned to herself again. "You think I LIKE squeezing my ass into panties!?"
A heavy blush appeared on Madison's cheeks at the crass remark. "Y...you're wearing panties!?"
"Well, someone has to..." Joni tried not to focus on the discomfort even these extra-large ones were bringing.
Traci smiled wide. "Can you imagine if they got Maddy in panties with General Gra—ACK!" Traci was cut off by Madison's paw.
"SHHH! Don't talk nonsense!"
Joni just laughed harder, her tail swaying and making the skirt hike up her thighs. "Oh shit, I never even considered that...I hope the old bastard IS coming to see his favorite pet whore herself out on stage..." She grinned wide. "That smug fucking look will be wiped right off your muzzle!"
Madison bristled, grabbing Joni's collar and yanking her down to eye level. "Listen here, you unrefined mutt... If I even catch a WHISP of your crassness while we perform, they will never find your body." She gave a final snarl before shoving Joni back and storming out of the room, makeup kit still in hand.
Joni stumbled backwards with a yelp of surprise, nearly falling on her backside. She grabbed at the door frame to catch herself. "Fucking cunt..." She seethed, her fangs bared in Madison's direction.
Emily and Traci both frowned at each other. The collie sighed. "Traci, how did you find out about that?"
"I don't know how she does it either." Joni rubbed the wrinkles out of her top. "She's always so innocent and ditzy until it's time to gossip..."
Traci shrugged. "I dunno...I just hear stuff!" She smiled, looking unphased.
Emily pinched her brow. "Well, keep it to yourself next time, okay, Traci?" She moved to walk out and talk to Madison again. "I better go make sure she's alright."
Traci waved to Emily as the collie left before moving over and helping Joni adjust her top, smiling at her friend happily. "There, all fixed!"
Joni growled, smoothing down the ill-fitting garment. "I fucking hate this thing..." She looked at Traci solemnly. "How the hell are you so goddamn happy about prancing around like trained show dogs!?"
Traci just kept smiling. "I dunno. I'm just excited to have fun with my friends!" She took Joni's paws. "We never get to do stuff like this..."
Joni sighed heavily. She really wished she could share even a fraction of the retriever's optimism. "I just wanna get this stupid shit over with so things can go back to normal." She looked downward.
Traci pulled Joni into a tight hug. "It'll be okay... I know it's scary, but I'll be right there with you the whole time!" She nuzzled their cheeks together affectionately. "You're my best friend..."
Joni let out a long sign. "Yeah, right back at you."

Lt. Bruce Harker was in the corner of the smokey lobby, a half-spent cigarette in his mouth. The man looked like a giant compared to the scrawny presidential aide aside from him.
"Not attending? What do you mean he's not attending?"
"W-well, given the ongoing situation in the North-West, President Livingstone's advisor said attending this event would send the wrong message to—"
"Shut up." The man growled, and the aide shriveled.
Harker looked skyward. "This entire thing was upended by his request, and he doesn't show up because he's worried it'll cost him approval ratings. Great."
"Still, he sends his regards!" The aide added.
"I'm only here because of Traci and Joni—Handler's got to show solitary, y'know?"
In the opposite corner stood General Grant, flanked by Captain Mann and Dr. Abraham.
"What did you say this was again? Some sort of morale-boosting stage event?"
Abraham swallowed hard and tugged at his collar. "Y-yes, General. Project Cerberus is showing off some of its, ah...versatility in a musical performance."
Grant raised an eyebrow. "Musical? I thought this was going to be tactical drills and a firefight reenactment."
Mann gave a nervous chuckle. "That was the original concept, sir, but it sort of mutated."
"No doubt from that fool Livingstone..." Grant grumbled. "How much money went into this farce?"
"A-a lot, sir, but the funding came from the civilian discretionary budget."
"Hrmph..." Grant's eyes moved around the room. "So where is everyone? Shouldn't the lab coats be lining up to lick my boots?"
"I believe they're all backstage, General." Mann checked his watch. "Ten minutes to showtime..."
Grant shook his head in disgust. "Let's go take our seats, then... Heaven knows I'll need a stiff drink for this."