We open to a pristine kitchen. All of the pots and pans are put away and there isn't even a single dish in the brushed steel sink. The immaculate marble countertops are free of dust and crumbs. However, even the cleanest of kitchens can be invaded by tiny pests.
We zoom in one a couple such pests right behind the refrigerator. No, they aren't roaches or mice, but tiny one inch people. Living breathing people like you or me. A man and a woman.
They crouch cautiously, the man a few paces ahead, as they nervously look around for any movement. Satisfied that they are alone, he motions to the woman and they begin scavenging for crumbs on the floor. Even the most thorough of cleaners cannot get all of the minuscule crumbs, it seems.
Finding very little, they creep down the hallway and as they're passing a cracked door, they are unaware that high above, a massive green eye watches them. When they get past the door, it swings open, almost blowing the tiny couple over with a gust of wind. They turn, horrified, to see towering before them, the lady of the household. She looks down at them in an expression of both anger and excitement.
They tiny woman barely has time to shriek as the man grabs her arm and, abandoning stealth, drags her into a full on sprint down the hallway.
The lady of the house takes her first booming step, no doubt exaggerating her steps into stomps, imitating a giant monster. She plants her foot, adorned with bright red glossy nail polish, right next to the fleeing couple, the wind and shock from the stomp almost throwing them off their feet.
She lets the tiny couple get a little further before continuing her pursuit. After a moment, she begins slowly stomping down the hallway and rhythmically bellowing with each step, "Fe... fi... fo... fum... I just cleaned the floor on which you run." She holds up a white spray bottle as if the make a point.
The couple reach the end of the hallway and enter the living room where the floor transitions from hardwood to carpet. The bushy fibers of the carpet are very difficult to run on with tiny legs and the couple is slowed down significantly.
In no time, the titanic lady of the house is upon them as the man has tripped on a carpet fiber. The tiny woman tries to help him up, but it is too late as the couple finally get a good look at their pursuer from her blazing red hair neatly tied in a ponytail, down to her titanic legs in cuffed jeans.
The giant lady raises her foot to stomp the little pests, but then glances around at the tidy living room that she no doubt just cleaned only moment before. With her foot still raised over the cowering couple, she shakes the spray bottle in her hand, disappointed by the rattle of the dry straw inside the giant plastic bottle.
Annoyed, she slowly lowers her foot, away from the couple and glares down at them. Realizing that the giant didn't want to stain the floor with their guts, the tiny couple are relieved and embrace.
Suddenly, the front door flings open and the tiny people are startled by the thunder-like voice of the giant husband.
"Honey, I'm fe fi home!" he calls. His wife beams at him warmly, seemingly forgetting the tiny pests below her.
He reaches into a large paper bag and holds up a plastic bag with what looks like two large fish. "I got a couple whales for the grill. Humpbacks!"
"And for dessert!" He holds up a tour bus that has been hastily wrapped in a ribbon adorned with a bow on top, although the text on the side is still visible: "Giantland Tours" He give the bus a gentle shake, producing several muffled screams from inside the bus.
The giant woman's heart melts at her husband's thoughtfulness.
The tiny couple on the floor take the opportunity to try and get up and sneak away, as the little man can now walk, although with a limp.
"Oh, and I almost forgot," the giant man says, as he pulls out a tanker truck, the tiny driver desperately trying to hide in the cabin. "You said you were getting low on that cleaner you like." He holds up the tanker truck, showing the shiny TitanClean logo.
The woman gasps in delight and her huge smile turns mischievous as she lowers her gaze to look down at the tiny couple trying to sneak away.
She lifts her foot.
And they scream.
The living room blurs and the TitanClean logo appears.
"TitanClean, for all stains, big and small."
Olympian Footwear
Shrunken Man, Crush
We open to a man running. By the frantic look on his face and the constant look over his shoulder, he is not out for a morning jog.
In fact, he happens to be running in the strangest of places, a giant shoe store.
He dodges a black and white converse the size of a school bus and veers to the left to narrowly avoid a brown leather flat.
Despite his close encounter with these unaware fatal footwear, the his attention is focused on one set of footwear in particular.
We pan behind the unfortunate running man to the shiny black pumps following just seconds behind him.
The pumps slam down with exaggerated stomps as the tag on the shoe flops down with every step.
We then raise up to a giant's eye view as we see the woman dressed in her smart black business suit, her stomping and gleeful laughter betraying her otherwise professional appearance.
The other shoppers stand clear of the woman and her prey as most are either going about their own business, or they don't want to get in the way of a fellow giant's hunt.
In a stroke of terribly bad luck, the man finds himself trapped in the corner of the store.
The woman slowly looms over him with an excitedly evil grin, like a thunder cloud of dread sent from Mt. Olympus to smite the tiny man.
She raises her foot, encased in the shiny black pump, and slowly drags it down the corner of the wall with a terrible squeak.
The woman looks down, shocked and disappointed as the man, shaking with fear, has positioned himself in the corner in such a way that the shoe cannot reach him.
She tries again but in a kicking motion but once again the toe is too chunky to achieve this small goal.
Her pouts of frustration beckon forth an employee, a young woman with glasses and the mousy brown hair.
"Do you need any help, ma'am?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, do you have anything... pointier?" She gestures down at the man in the corner, pleading up at the two goddesses.
The employee cranes her neck to glance at the tiny intruder and thinks for a quick moment. It is unclear if she will help the woman eliminate her prey, or if she will be this man's salvation.
"I think I have just the thing," she responds cheerfully to the woman, and quickly walks off.
The woman lifts the pump once more to warn against any escape attempts, when the employee returns promptly, holding a pair of white leather pointed-toe heels.
The employee holds them up by the straps triumphantly and the woman takes them and puts them on.
The woman repeats her earlier move of sliding her foot down the corner of the wall; this time, the squeak of leather accompanied by the last cries of the man and silenced by a quick crunch.
The woman smiles and twists her foot back and forth and revels in the victory.
Satisfied, she exclaims, "I'll take them! Do they come in red?"
The employee looks down at the floor and grimaces but her lips slowly curl into a grin and she jests, "They do now."
The scene fades out to reveal the Olympian Footwear logo as a faint intercom announcement can be heard: "Cleanup on aisle 4."
"Save BIG at Olympian Footwear, crushing the competition since 1991."