A Day In The Life     Woke up

A Day In The Life     Woke up

A Day In The Life

Woke up, fell out of bed,

Dragged a comb across my head.

Found my way downstairs and drank a cup,

And looking up, I noticed I was late.

Found my coat and grabbed my hat,

Made the bus in seconds flat.

Found my way upstairs and had a smoke,

And somebody spoke and I went into a dream...

Jerry Anderson turned around.

'Did somebody say something?' But there was no one there.

Shrugging, he turned back to his computer.

It was gone. So were his desk and chair. And so was his cubicle.

'What the hell... ?'

To his right was a huge rectangular object, as big as a house. It was whirring

loudly.

Moving closer, he realized with a start that it was his hard drive. Craning his

neck, he saw the underside of his chair, far above him.

'Okay. Okay. This is... okay.' He paced back and forth under his desk, trying to

get his mind to accept what his eyes were seeing. 'I'm three inches tall. Okay.'

But what was he going to do about it?

'Jerry?' a voice called tentatively. It was Nervous Bill, whose cubicle was on

the other side of the divider. They were both the same reduced size now, so they

could see each other across the space underneath it. Jerry hadn't actually seen

Bill in several weeks, despite working right beside him, there being strict

rules against visiting other people in their cubicles during work hours. They'd

talked through the wall however, like prisoners. Bill was sweating copiously.

'What happened to us, Jerry?'

'It looks like we've shrunk,' Jerry replied absently as he walked under the

divider. He was already trying to figure a way out of the predicament.

Chris the Happy-Go-Lucky Clerk wandered over next. He didn't seem too concerned

about his new size. 'It's the first time I've been able to find my way out of

the cubicle maze since I started here!'

Within the hour they discovered that everyone on their side of the floor had

shrunk down to 3 inches short. Every man, that is, a dozen of them in all. The

women were unaffected by the phenomenon.

'What, is mother nature trying to even up the score for centuries worth of PMS?'

Chris asked, grinning around at everyone.

'Jerry, what should we do?' Bill asked.

Everyone turned to hear what he'd say. Why did they expect him to take charge

all the time? It was always the same, first he'd had to organize the weekly

lotto pool, then the hockey playoff draft, and now it was,

'how-do-we-un-shrink-ourselves, Jerry?'. Was there to be no end?

'Well, maybe we should tell the receptionist what's happening,' he sighed. They

gazed blankly at him. 'She can hold our calls until we figure this out.' They ''ahh'ed'

in unison.

They trooped under dividers, across cubicles and over extension cords like tiny

boy scouts on a hike through the great indoors.

A thumping noise made them pause. A pair of huge, black patent high heels

pounded by. It was Monika, their aggressive, thirty year old unit manager. (Or

'team leader', 'mentor', 'spirit guide', etc, depending on what the Japanese

were currently calling their own managers. The guys in the office were beginning

to suspect that the Japanese were making up fake titles as a joke, knowing that

North Americans copied every trend they set, and having a good laugh at their

expense...)

Monika was generally considered the most attractive woman in the unit. They

gawked up at her shapely 150 foot tall body as she strode across the floor to

the fax machine. She hadn't even noticed them, standing timidly under the desk.

As she rarely noticed them even at normal size, you couldn't blame her on this

occasion.

'Clear!' Chris shouted, having looked both ways. They continued on their way.

When they reached the reception area, they looked up at the front desk. The

receptionist wasn't there.

They heard a commotion on the other side of the floor and headed over that way.

As they got closer, they heard the women laughing and carrying on about

something. Ominously, no male voices were heard.

'Something's wrong,' Bill said, plucking at Jerry's sleeve. 'I have a bad

feeling about this.'

'You have a bad feeling about everything, Bill,' Chris said, but he sounded a

tad nervous himself.

When they came close enough, they saw that the women were standing around a

table in the middle of the floor. The men from that area were tiny as well, and

had been placed on the table, herded into a cowering circle in the middle of it.

'There, you see? They're already working on the solution together,' Todd the

Arrogant Bastard sneered, jumping to conclusions as usual. 'You're getting

worked up over nothing.'

He started forward, shouting to the women to get their attention. Phil the Goon

grabbed him by the scruff of the neck with one big paw.

'Listen to 'em, moron! Can't you tell what they're doing?'

Todd listened.

'I'll take Charlie,' Monika said.

'Darn, I wanted him. Well, I get Sam.' That was Darlene, the buxom, blond

systems analyst.

The women were taking turns picking little men out of the group! That seemed

highly suspicious.

'This is going to be so much fun!' Trish Quon said, a little too

enthusiastically for comfort. She picked up a frightened little man from the

diminishing circle and held him in the palm of her hand, patting him on the head

with her finger.

They weren't helping the men at all. The giant women were laying claim to them

as if they were things to be possessed or something. The men under the desk

gaped at each other like a gang of deaf mutes; the new size ratio must have made

the women drunk with power. Suddenly, they heard a thunder of footsteps as a

half-dozen pairs of female feet hove into view, stomping towards them.

The giant women were chatting excitedly amongst themselves as they headed

towards the other side of the floor.

'I hope those guys have shrunk too!' Darlene said as they passed by.

'Dibs on Jerry,' said Lucy, the gorgeous twenty year old temp who was working in

the file room during the summer.

'Nudge, nudge, wink, wink, say no more...' Chris said, elbowing Jerry in the

ribs.

'Knock it off,' he mumbled, embarrassed. 'I don't even know the girl.' But he'd

been thinking about her a lot lately.

He shook himself out of it. 'Okay, after what we've just seen, I don't think the

women are likely to help us. Any minute they're going to find out that we're not

there and they'll probably come looking for us. We need a place to hide until we

can figure something out.'

But where... ?

Jerry led them to 'That Office'.

None of the women would go near it, as it had a rather foul odour within.

Something or someone must have died in there and they'd never got the smell out.

The men had no problem with it of course; they all cheerfully donned hockey

equipment which reeked of old sweat for thrice-weekly games, and sat in the

stinky locker room after the game drinking beer while Phil told vulgar stories.

If they could get through that and think nothing of it, they could survive in

'That Office' quite easily.

They crawled under the door and took stock of their surroundings.

Desk, chair, filing cabinet. Computer table with an abandoned 386 PC on it. Book

shelf containing a 1959 edition dictionary. Various office supplies.

'This'll do. Okay guys, I want you to pry open the vent back there,' Jerry said.

'What the hell for? We're safe in here,' Phil said, miming a woman fanning the

smell away from her face.

'Ever heard of this little thing called holding your nose?' Jerry smacked him on

the forehead. 'If they want to come in here they will. And they will once

they've searched everywhere else. And I don't want them to find me sitting

pretty on the edge of the desk for lack of anywhere to retreat to.'

They hurried over to the vent and began to pry at it using giant scissors as a

lever.

Suddenly, they heard the women return, stopping by the reception area. The guys

went over to the space under the door, crawling underneath on their stomachs to

see what was happening.

Standing in the middle of the floor, hands on her hips, Monika looked every inch

a goddess, her jet black, shoulder length hair bouncing as she turned her head

to look around.

'Listen up fellas. We know you're hiding out there somewhere,' she said in a

loud voice, her dark eyes gleaming, 'Why don't you come out and save us the

trouble of hunting you down? Give up now and we won't be mad... I promise.'

Bill promptly stood up, hands raised, and sallied forth obediently. Chris and

Phil tackled him and hauled him back under the door before the women could see

him.

'But she promised...' Bill complained.

'You twit, when will you learn that you can't trust a woman's promises? They're

always saying that they reserve the right to change their minds whenever they

want to, right?' Chris said. The others murmured in agreement. 'No, we've got to

stick it out, stand up for ourselves. After all, we're men, dammit!'

Seeing that nobody was going to surrender, Monika nodded, as if expecting no

less from the stubborn, foolish little men; their bodies may have shrunk, but

their egos hadn't. 'All right then, be warned. We're coming to get you.'

With that, the women began combing the office, starting at the far end and

slowly working their way back, opening desk drawers and briefcases, looking in

every possible hiding place, trying to flush the men out ahead of them like

game.

Inside their office hideout, the guys strained on the lever again. Eventually,

they managed to bend a couple of the bars apart, enough for a man their size to

squeeze through. It would serve as the command post during the fight for their

freedom, and they could also flee into the ventilation system if the battle

started going badly. Having arranged their headquarters, Jerry called for quiet.

'We need to get a message to someone,' he said. 'There's no phone in here, but

if we can get onto someone's desk we can e-mail Accounting on the ninth floor.

They'll come down and help us.'

But the first thing they had to do was get some climbing equipment together.

Scrounging around, they located some bent paper clips and string. Then they set

out.

They dashed from their base camp towards the nearest desk, strains of the

Mission Impossible theme in the air.

'Shut up with that humming, Ed,' Phil growled.

It stopped. Ed wasn't entirely lucid.

The hooks were attached to the string, and thrown upward by Phil and Chris, the

two best atheletes among them. The hooks held fast to the material in the chair.

One after another, the men climbed up.

They swarmed over the desk and stood by the computer.

Jerry looked at the screen and directed their efforts.

They had to shove the mouse around like they were pushing a stalled car and

click the button by leaning heavily on it with both hands, as if they were

giving it CPR.

When they finally got the New Message box opened, they scrambled over the

keyboard.

'That's it. Spread out a little. Okay, I'll spell the words out and whoever's

nearest to the key, jump on it.'

After some initial stumbling, they finally got the message typed and delivered.

Up on 9, the message came into the accounting supervisor's inbox. He opened and

read it:

'Need help. All men on 8 floor shrunk. Women after us. Come down quickly!'

'Is this some kind of joke? Who's responsible?' He angrily picked up the phone

and called down to the 8th floor. Monika took the call and, upon hearing the

complaint, promised to deal with the situation.

'Nice try guys, but the cavalry isn't coming,' she called out as she hung up the

phone.

Monika told Trish to shut off the computers and disconnect all the phones except

the line in her office. 'We won't be needing them today anyway. If anyone calls,

we'll tell them that we're 'in a meeting' all day.'

To the hidden men she said, 'you ought to just give up now. I'll tell you what,

anyone who surrenders gets to be slave for life to one of these lovely ladies.

Could you ask for a better deal than that?'

The men started getting miffed. Give up their freedom? Become slaves to WOMEN?

Who did she think she was? They quickly made their way back to their office and

filed one by one through the hole in the vent for a brainstorming session.

'It looks like the only way out is via the stairs,' Jerry said. 'If we can make

it up to 9, maybe we can find help in person. Seeing is believing.'

'We ought to send out guards and scout parties,' said Cliff the Excessive

Paintball Player. 'We need to know what the... giantesses, I guess we can call

them... are doing at all times, so we can plan our strategy.'

'But first, I think we need to prove to them that we're not to be taken

lightly,' Jerry said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. 'An act of terrorism,

something to shake their faith in themselves. Something that will cripple their

morale.'

Chris smirked. 'I know just the thing...'

Led by Phil and Chris again, the men set out with their climbing equipment. They

ran silently across the carpeted floor, keeping to the shadows; the giantesses

were still out there, hunting them.

They reached their destination. The boardroom.

The door was open and they walked right inside. It was dark, but they saw their

objective across the room, illuminated by the flashing 12:00. It was the VCR,

supposed to be used exclusively for watching training films and other official

business tapes, but was mostly used by the staff for lunchtime entertainment.

The guys brought in tapes of Monty Python's Flying Circus and the Three Stooges,

but had to vie against the women with their horrible soap operas. The machine

was taping Days of Our Lives at the moment, for those women who took later

lunches. The use of the VCR was a bone of contention among the staff.

It was here that the men planned to strike.

After scaling the VCR tower, they crossed over to the button panel on the

machine.

'Fast forward, rewind, ah here it is. Eject...' Chris said, kicking the large

square button. With a whirring sound, the huge tape popped out. They attached

ropes to it and, straining against the weight, lowered it to the floor. Back on

the ground they lifted it over their heads and carried the massive tape back to

their office like ants returning from a forage, with Bill walking in front to

guide them.

Darlene was walking slowly among the cubicles, checking left and right, when she

caught a brief glimpse of something small and black scuttling across the walkway

behind her. She turned around and crouched down, peering under the divider.

Nothing there. Strange. It had almost looked like a... Scowling, she headed for

the boardroom. She turned on the lights and noticed that the VCR wasn't running.

Coming closer, she saw a post-it note on the tv screen. She squinted, holding it

up close to read the tiny writing:

'We have your tape. We will give it back if you release our brethren in Sales

and cease your attempts to capture us. Signed, The Men.'

She brought the note to Monika, who read it in silence.

'So, they want to play rough, do they?' she said, holding Charlie, her little

pet, in her hand. As she spoke, she unconsciously closed her fingers around him,

squeezing him ever tighter. 'Well, we'll just have to...'

'Uh... Monika...' Charlie wheezed. 'You're... cr... crushing me...'

'Oh, sorry hon,' she said, relaxing her grip. 'It's all the fault of those nasty

little men on the other side. They're so annoying, not like you guys in sales.'

She put Charlie back inside the tall, glass vase that served as his new home and

leaned in close to him. 'I can't stop to play right now, but after I deal with

those misguided fellows over there, I'll have plenty of time for you,' she said

with a husky voice, blowing him a giant kiss. Charlie didn't know whether to be

excited or scared witless.

'Any ideas on how to get back at them?' Darlene asked. Shelley, the

receptionist, did. The other women pulled up chairs to join her; she had one

long leg resting on the table and several of their tiny men were climbing over

her foot, painting her toenails. The men were tied together in a chain by a long

elastic band, the loose end held fast to the table by a thumbtack.

'To get back at 'em, you have to try to understand 'em, get inside their heads.

Find out what they really hold dear, then take it away from 'em,' Shelley said.

Monika was impressed. 'Simple logic for dealing with simple creatures. Very

good.'

'So what do they have in the office that we can deprive them of?' Darlene asked.

Trish was lost in thought, absently toying with her little slave on the table.

She would knock him over with her hand, wait for him to stand back up, and knock

him down again. Then she'd pin him lightly under her finger and watch him

writhe. 'They do like their donuts,' she said. 'They bring in boxes of them

every day.'

'Good. We'll march over, take their donuts and make sure they see us doing it,'

Monika said. 'Maybe that'll convince them to give up their pathetic resistance,

and then we can have some serious fun!'

High atop the filing cabinet in the reception area, Chris and Bill were keeping

an eye on things from inside a flower pot.

'I hear them coming! Get down!' Chris said, shoving Bill's face into the moist

soil. He peeked over the edge and saw the giantesses stride past, heading for

the lunchroom. A minute later they came out again. He blanched when he realized

what they'd done.

'Come on Bill! We've got to report this.'

Jerry looked up as Chris came stumbling back from the observation post, his face

ashen; something was really wrong.

'What is it?'

'Bad. It's very bad,' he replied. 'The giantesses, they've...' He looked away,

biting his lip.

'What? They've found our hiding place? Called the exterminator? What?'

'Worse than that, Jer. They've confiscated the donuts.'

Grim silence settled over the room as the news sank in. No donuts.

'My god,' Jerry whispered, feeling behind him for something solid to sit on.

He looked around at the other guys, sensing the fight going out of them.

'We can't beat them, Jerry,' Bill said, growing hysterical. 'They're giantesses.

How can we stop even ONE of them, let alone six? Maybe we ought to give up like

they asked... oh, if only we had more men to help us...'

It was Crazy Ed who turned things around, striking a gallant pose in the centre

of the group. ''What's he that wishes so? My cousin Bill?- No my fair cousin: if

we are marked to die, we are enough to do our tiny gender loss; and if to live,

the fewer men the greater share of honour. God's will! I pray thee, wish not one

man more.'' And on he went, doing a rendition of Henry V's impassioned

Shakespearean speech prior to the battle of Agincourt, slightly skewed to fit

the situation.

By the end of it, the men were misty eyed in spite of themselves, and a couple

of them were so overcome by emotion that they almost hugged each other. Almost.

Jerry stood up again, clearing his throat to get their attention.

'I think I have an idea...'

Cliff and his scout party returned to the command post and gave their report to

Jerry; the donuts were on a desk on the other side of the floor. The giantesses

weren't even keeping watch over them.

So all the guys had to do was go and get them. They quickly threw a plan

together from the safety of the vent.

'Everyone know their places? Good. Let's move out,' Jerry said.

They filed out of the office, heading to the other side of the floor with their

equipment. It was strangely silent as they drew closer to giantess territory.

When they arrived, they saw the donuts on a desk, just as Cliff had reported. No

giantesses were around. Probably still out looking for them.

Jerry motioned Chris and Phil over. They pulled out their ropes and hooks. With

a nod from Jerry, they tossed the grapnels up. The others kept nervous watch for

any sign of the women; all was quiet.

The donut liberation party climbed up onto the desk, walked over to the large

boxes and opened them. They were empty!

'They're gone. It's a setup!'

'Very astute. You played right into our hands,' Monika said, emerging from her

hiding place and stalking towards the little men, with the other giant women

following.

'Scatter! But don't lead them back to our hideout!' Jerry yelled, dashing to the

ropes. He rappelled down to the floor and ran under the desk, Chris and Bill

right behind him. The others had scrambled down the various computer cords that

hung from the back of the desk and were already making a break for it in another

direction.

A pair of giant feet wearing single-strap mules stepped in front of the desk;

the shoes' high heels stood as tall as the little men, like columns. It was

Lucy. The guys retreated farther back and ducked behind the leg of the desk.

Chris looked at her feet, then grinned at Jerry. 'Nice ankles, eh Jer?'

'Yes, yes, she's got amazing feet,' he replied, exasperated. 'Look, much as I

like her, I don't think that's the most important thing to discuss right now...'

Suddenly, Lucy knelt down and peered under the desk.

Despite his fear, Jerry couldn't help noticing for the umpteenth time how

beautiful she was. Her long wavy hair, chestnut brown, brushed the floor as she

searched the space under the desk with her eyes. Those eyes! A shade of blue to

rival that of any Caribbean lagoon, they fairly sparkled when she laughed...

He was jolted back to reality by her voice.

'I see you hiding back there!'

They felt the blood drain into their socks.

'Is that you, Jerry? Hi, little guy! Come on out, now,' she enticed, waving him

over like he was a timid chipmunk or something.

'I don't think she sees you guys. I'll distract her and you two get out of

here,' Jerry hissed, his heart beating a rapid tattoo against his ribs, as if

played by a drummer boy on a sugar rush.

Before they could protest, he stepped out from behind the leg of the desk.

'Hi, Lucy,' he tried to say. Instead he made a noise like a cat hacking up a

furball.

'Don't be afraid,' she said soothingly. 'If you give up, it'll be better for

you.'

She slowly reached out her hand, slender fingers stretched wide to grab him. At

the last minute he jumped to the side and rolled out of the way.

Her forearm swung overhead like a crane, her hand dropping down onto him... but

he dodged aside just in time. He bolted under another desk, and the other two

guys saw Lucy crawl away to chase their friend. The escape route was open.

'Come on Bill, let's get out of here,' Chris said, dragging him behind him.

They charged out from under the desk and almost got crushed under Lucy's foot as

she stretched out on the floor to extend her reach under the other desk. Running

around her long legs, they continued on their way.

Meanwhile, Phil and several others were boxed in under another desk by Trish and

Darlene, who were kneeling at either end. Whichever way the men ran, one of the

giantesses could grab them. They had almost given up hope, when they heard a

voice float down from atop the desk. It was Ed, driven to another fit of

theatrics.

''Once more into your breeches, dear friends, once more! Or close the wall up

with our tiny dead...'' Ed shouted, standing on the edge of the desk above the

astonished women, screwing up his lines in the madness of the situation. Then,

with much stiffening of sinews and summoning up of blood, he leaped into

Darlene's thick mane of hair and held on for dear life. She shrieked and stood

up, shaking her head violently to get the little pest out. Ed went sailing arse

over teakettle through the air in a flailing parabola and landed with a splash

in a glass of water on a desk several yards away, unharmed but soaked.

'Let's go!' Phil cried, leading the rest of them past Darlene's sandalled feet

to freedom before she could recover.

Other men weren't so lucky. Shelley and Monika had each pounced on a tiny man,

and Tanya, the spunky redhead from data entry, had cornered Cliff and was

attempting to subdue him. Vowing that he'd not go down without a fight, he flung

himself onto her foot and clung tenaciously to the straps of her high heeled

sandals. Amused at his antics, she played along for a while, waggling her foot

back and forth to shake him off. Eventually he lost his grip and fell to the

floor in an untidy heap. Tanya picked him up and triumphantly carried him off

into captivity.

Not too far away, Jerry was running out of options. He was getting tired and

Lucy didn't seem to be giving up.

He crawled under another desk, and found himself among a pile of giant high

heeled shoes. One of the women's desks. He climbed over the side of a large

white pump and curled up inside the toe. He wasn't a moment too soon. He felt

Lucy's hands searching for him, moving the shoes around, but he kept under

cover.

'Jerry, don't hide. I'm not going to hurt you,' she whispered. 'Just give

yourself up. There's nothing wrong with losing to a woman.'

But Jerry wouldn't be persuaded and remained curled up inside the shoe.

'Oh, fine then. Go back to your stupid male friends and bond together, or

whatever you guys are doing.' She stood up and walked away.

And Jerry felt strangely sad. Then he got mad because he felt sad and rebuked

himself for his duality. He crawled out of the shoe and slunk back to the

command centre, muttering to himself.

'Give up? Nothing wrong with losing to women? Huh. Well, maybe I don't WANT to

be captured... she is attractive, though. And smart. She obviously likes me...

maybe it wouldn't be so bad. No, no, I have to resist. Who CARES if I like her?

Higher principles at stake. I don't wanna be captured...'

Before he knew it, Jerry was back inside the office with the survivors of the

raid. Some of them looked disillusioned about their chances, having first

suffered the loss of their donuts, and now actual casualties. Jerry sat in

silence, massaging his forehead, trying desperately to think of something before

the men became permanently demoralised...

The men had suffered a couple of setbacks now and they weren't taking it well.

Todd spoke up. 'I think we ought to sue for peace now. We've tried to go on the

offensive and they've brushed us aside. We should surrender while they're still

in a good mood.'

Jerry shook his head. 'As long as we're free, there's a chance we can get away,

get help from someone on the outside.'

'Well, I'm leaving,' he said, ducking through the hole in the vent. 'I'm not

going to stick around and be captured like a rat. I'm going to get my own

terms.'

Phil stood up, growling menacingly.

'Tie him up,' Jerry said. Phil complied, despite Todd's cussing and struggling.

Todd sat sulking in the corner of the office, arms tied behind his back, legs

hobbled. The others huddled in a circle, bouncing ideas off one another. But

they couldn't think of anything. Suddenly, they heard giant footsteps walk back

and forth across the floor outside. The men scampered over to the space under

the door again. Jerry climbed back inside the vent to shut out the distraction,

wracking his brains for an idea.

'I've been told to come and make a peace offering,' Darlene called out, her tone

of voice implying that despite everything the men had done, the women were still

willing to be lenient. 'We've got the donuts. We know you want them.'

The men peered at her from their hiding place, wistful looks on their faces

betraying their feelings. The donuts...

She looked around, her big blue eyes pleading with them to surrender, wherever

they were. 'There's plenty of donuts for all of you. And really, what's a little

bit of enslavement anyway? We'd be willing to start you off as part time slaves,

if you'd like...'

Phil shook his head. 'Listen to her, would ya? Who'd give up freedom for a lousy

donut? I mean aside from Bill? It ain't worth it.'

The other guys mulled it over, weighing the pros and cons, before reluctantly

agreeing with Phil. 'Well, that's good, 'cause to jump ship you'd have to get

through me an' Chris, see?'

'It is a tempting offer though,' Chris said, reclining against the wall, hands

behind his head, legs crossed. 'But you're right, in the end it's not worth...'

'We just want to take care of you... that's all,' Darlene continued, changing

tack; her voice had gone all syrupy. 'Just want to give you a little love and

affection...'

'Hey, just where the flamin' hell are YOU goin'?' Phil cried as Chris scrambled

to his feet. He tried to restrain him, hold him back. 'It's a trap, man! Don't

listen to her. She's speakin' lies at you...'

Phil finally had to slap him across the face. Chris snapped out of it.

'Wow, I can't believe I almost gave up my manly freedom for huge donuts and the

love of a beautiful giantess. How foolish of me to have considered it. Thanks,

Phil.'

'Don't mention it,' he said, sitting down. 'Ya weak willed schmuck...'

'Monika said we can buy you guys some beer too,' Darlene added.

Phil's ears pricked up. His eyes glazed over. He slowly stood up again and began

to float towards the door as if suspended from helium balloons. 'Beer... huge

bottles of beer...'

'Oh, no you don't...' Chris shouted, grabbing him by the collar.

Jerry arrived several minutes later to find all of them battling one another in

cartoon-brawl fashion, cursing and punching, arms and legs flailing.

'Hey! What's going on!?' They stopped their fisticuffs and looked sheepish. 'Has

anyone seen Todd?' he asked.

After looking around for Todd, the awful truth dawned on them.

'Nuts, I think he must have escaped and hopped out of the office while we were,

uh... distracted,' Chris said.

'He's gone over to the giantess camp. He'll tell them where we are,' Jerry said.

'Betrayed! Et tu, Todd!?' Ed cried, the back of his hand pressed theatrically to

his forehead.

Bill broke out in a sweat again. 'We'd better get out of here before they...'

With a resounding boom, the huge door to their sanctuary flew open and their

giantess nemeses stood towering over them.

'...find us,' he finished weakly.

For several moments neither party moved. Then one of the men broke the silence.

'RUN AWAY!! RUN AWAY!!'

Some of the men sped back towards the vent, whereupon they tried to dive through

the small hole simultaneously. The others tried to dash past the giant women in

the doorway for the open space of the foyer. The giantesses began chasing down

the little men, taking care not to squish them as they darted around between

their shoes. It was all too easy now.

Ed stood in the middle of the floor, inspired by the alarums and excursions.

'Mort de ma vie! All is confounded, all! Reproach and everlasting shame sits

mocking in our plumes. - O meschante fortune...' But Trish scooped him up before

he could finish the scene.

Jerry ran for his life. It was every man for himself now. He paused beside the

board room, chest heaving with exertion, before staggering into the hallway.

'Stairs,' he gasped, 'Must... reach... stairs.'

'Jeerrry...' a silky female voice called, freezing the blood in his veins. It

was Lucy.

He whirled around. There she was at the far end of the hallway, leaning against

the wall. She waved at him, then started walking towards him, high heels

clacking on the hard floor of the hallway, mules flapping against her feet with

each step. 'Where are you going, little guy?'

Jerry looked around wildly for a hole in the wall. There were none. He could

only continue down the hallway towards the stairs, which were a good football

field length away, or he could run back the way he'd come, the direction Lucy

was coming from.

Either way he was going to get caught. So he chose neither. Limbs heavy with

defeat, he simply stood and watched the beautiful young giantess walk towards

him, her hips swaying seductively.

She stopped in front of him. He tried to remain calm, to be defiant.

Her foot slid out of the shoe and her toes gently pressed him to the floor. He

tried to squirm free, but she held him just firmly enough. 'I've been after you

all day. Are you ready to give up now?' she asked with a sigh. 'Don't you want

to play with me?'

'NO!' he shouted, not quite convincing himself.

'Oh come on, Jerry. We'll have a great time.'

'Don't want to,' he sulked.

'Jerry...'

'Hmph.'

Gripping him between her toes, she lifted her foot and reached down with her

hand so she could transfer him to her fingers. She raised her hand until he was

sitting at eye level with her.

'Hey, what are you still doing here? It's past quitting time,' she said.

Huh?

Jerry Anderson turned around.

It was Lucy, leaning against the divider, head inclined as she watched him with

those magnificent eyes of hers. He patted himself down. He was his normal size

again.

'Boy, you sure worked hard today. You didn't leave your chair all day.'

Confused, he turned back to his terminal. He hadn't even logged on yet, but

somehow it was already after 5pm. 'Uh... ya. Yes. A hard day's night, and all

that. Ha, ha!'

She smiled at him and walked away, the flapping of her mules receding. He

grabbed his briefcase and headed for the elevator, shaking his head. 'Shrinking

down to 3 inches tall? Giant women chasing you? You're losing it, boyo,' he

muttered to himself.

As a 'ding' signalled the arrival of the elevator car, Lucy leaned around the

corner, a sultry look on her face. 'I'll see you tomorrow, 'little guy',' she

purred. He turned to stare at her, disbelieving. She winked. Then the elevator

doors opened and Jerry stumbled inside, grinning stupidly as if he'd just been

elected village idiot.

Peterson from accounting looked up and nodded at him. 'So Jerry, how were things

on 8 today?'

As the doors slid shut he replied, 'Oh, you know. Just another day in the

life...'

The End

A Day In The Life     Woke up

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