"I swear to God, Joy, if you take another step towards that sweater—"

"Aw, c'mon, Disgust! You don't always hafta be such a buzzkill!"

"It's hideous."

"It's cute!"

This is a relatively commonplace occurrence in the recesses of Riley's mind, so the others hardly feel concerned enough to do anything but sit by and watch. Or perhaps "relatively commonplace" isn't the right phrase. This happens nearly every time Riley goes shopping, whether it be with her mother, her friends, or just by herself. Joy and Disgust have their hands wrapped firmly around the same lever, yanking back and forth in a game of fashion tug-of-war (the others aren't exactly enjoying this scene; except for Anger, who's always up to watching a bit of conflict, so long as he isn't involved).

"It's really not that bad, Disgust," Joy insists, pushing the lever forward. She leans her weight against it, hoping it's enough to keep Disgust from pulling back. On the view screen, Riley lifts up a red-and-black plaid-print sweater, looking at it indecisively.

Disgust struggles with the lever this time, clawing at it hopelessly. "I can't believe you're saying this," she groans, sounding as if she might be sick (Fear recoils a little at this thought).

"Think about it," Joy continues as if she hadn't heard a single word out of Disgust (much to Sadness' understated exasperation), "if we pair it with that navy skirt we wore last Wednesday, or those shorts we bought for the camping trip—"

"Joy, it's plaid!"

"—it could be really cute! You just gotta give it a try!"

"No way," Disgust chokes out, finally managing to pull the lever with enough force to push Joy away from the console (which makes Fear jump, Sadness rise from her seat, and Anger nearly give out a cheer). "It's a hopeless cause!" she cries, holding a hand to her stomach as she expertly presses a few choice buttons. On cue, Riley sets down the sweater and turns to walk away from the display.

Joy can only frown at her from a distance. She doesn't even bother to get up until Sadness tries to pull her up from one arm; it's then that she gets back on her feet. "Disgust...," she drones, hoping she might be able to convince her friend otherwise.

"You can live without one sweater, Joy. Remember what happened the last time we wore one of your monstrosities?"

No one says a word, but Anger moves to bury his face in his newspaper.