The apartment was dimly lit and there was a moistness in the air. Summer in New York City was known for its humidity, but inside of their apartment was something else. It was more like a creature’s lair, and its occupant didn’t care what the outside world thought of its way of life. There were empty cans of Mountain Dew and Pepsi spread out all across the maple wood flooring, and there were at least half as many empty cups of instant ramen. On the counter, the couch, and even in the bathroom there were paper bags and empty packages of every fast food joint in a 2-mile radius. The occupant clearly didn’t show any particular favoritism towards McDonald’s, Taco Bell, KFC, or any other company that made greasy, overprocessed food. In the sink was at least 6 days’ worth of dirty dishes. Also spread across the floor was the occupant’s dirty clothes. Sweat-soaked socks and underpants, shirts that had faintly turned yellow from being worn for several days. This person was clearly no fan of laundry.

Despite the lack of housekeeping, the occupant also had an evident love or merchandise, particularly for anime and video games. Posters and figurines were scattered across the apartment, across dusty shelves and held up by sticky tape. Hello Kitty, Pokemon, My Hero Academia, Tokyo Ghoul. This might have been Brooklyn, but it might as well have been the bedroom of a teenager from Tokyo.

The occupant of this filthy apartment was Michelle. She was 25 years old, unemployed, never attended college, and could only somehow keep up the rent due to the charity of her wealthy parents. She had very few friends outside of those that she played video games with online. Her hygiene left a lot to be desired, and due to a steady flow of junk food she had developed a somewhat of a belly, and was usually very lethargic. Although it was hardly special, or even a skill, but Michelle took pride in the fact that she rarely wore pants and would only do so when it was necessary. Typically, Michelle would lounge around the house wearing only her underwear and a pop-culture t-shirt of some kind.

Michelle didn’t have any enemies, but there were certainly people in her life that she wouldn’t mind exacting revenge on for being toxic to her. One person in particular was her landlord, a 47-year-old man named Oliver. He owned Michelle’s apartment and was making thousands of dollars a month through his investment property portfolio. The man had a headstrong personality and was always looking for the next business opportunity. As a result of being chronically stressed out, Oliver had developed a heart problem, on which he was recently prescribed the latest drug on the market to alleviate it. As much as Michelle disliked Oliver, the feeling was totally mutual. Oliver was a high achiever and saw himself as deserving of every penny to his name (saying nothing of the enormous inheritance he received from his late parents). Michelle was tardy, routinely forgot to pay rent, lazy, and had some really gross behaviours. He thought of Michelle as nothing more than a loser, totally overlooking the fact that they both came from wealthy families that afforded them the chance to live more comfortably than everybody else.

Two days had passed and Oliver had still not seen Michelle’s monthly rent payment arrive in his account. This was the 4th incident of this since Michelle moved in one year ago. It wasn’t enough for him to accept this as chronic forgetfulness and irresponsibility on Michelle’s part. Oliver was the type to see this as a direct attack. He, as the landlord, was entitled to that money. Who did Michelle think she was defying someone of his status like this? He took it upon himself to pay Michelle a visit and give her a long overdue talk. He would ensure that Michelle would never be a problem ever again.

Oliver drove his fancy Bentley to Brooklyn and parked outside the apartment building. He had a big grin on his face knowing what he was about to deliver and how satisfied he would soon feel. He knocked aggressively on Michelle’s door and waited.

“I’m coming!” she shouted out in an annoyed tone.

Oliver had the feeling Michelle had been woken up by his knocking, and it was already past midday. Pathetic, he thought to himself. Michelle opened the door and her appearance proved his suspicions correct. She was wearing a baggy Miku shirt that was several sizes too big for her and covered in stains. It may as well of been a dress. Rubbing the crust from her eyes, Michelle got an unpleasant awakening when she was that it was Oliver.

“We need to talk, Michelle. Right now. I don’t give a shit what you might have been doing. Let me in now.”

“Hope you’ve been having a pleasant day too, Oliver” Michelle said sarcastically. “Please, don’t let me keep you waiting.” She motioned her arm and Oliver entered the apartment. Immediately he was struck by the apparent stuffiness of the air. It’s like the windows had not been opened in a week. He was even more offended by the state of the apartment. It looked even worse than ever!

Michelle cracked open her first can of Mountain Dew of the day. While most would go for a warm cup of coffee, she breathed Mountain Dew like a fish breathed water. She offered Oliver a seat on a couch covered in dirty clothes and plastic bags. He waved his hand dismissively, knowing what he had to say wouldn’t take long.

“I’m evicting you, Michelle.”

Michelle almost choked on her drink and tried to collect herself. She looked panicked. “What? Why? Oliver, what the fuck did I do?!”

“What did you do?!” Oliver exclaimed, “You’ve missed your rent for the fourth time. If there’s going to be an issue paying it I need to know in advance! But I know you. I’ve dealt with enough losers like you to know you just fucking forgot.”

“Look, I’m really sorry, Oliver. I’ll pay it to you right now plus a little mo—”

“Not interested. I want you out by the end of the week.” Oliver said, looking stern.’’

Michelle said nothing. Instead, she was beginning to tear up. She had made this apartment her home, and now this big bully was about to take it away from her.

Oliver went on. “You’re pathetic. Look at you. No job, wasting time all day, you treat MY apartment like it’s a goddamn pigsty. Maybe this’ll be a lesson for you to take on a bit of responsibility in your life, but I doubt it’ll sink into that thick skull of yours. You’re 25, but act like you’re in middle school. How fucking sad…”

Michelle’s tears were turning into rage. He could have kept it professional and not turned it into such a personal attack. He doesn’t know her and what she’s been through.

*SLAAAAAAP*

She had given him a hard, well-deserved smack in the face. In the process she’d stumbled over a stray KFC box on the floor and spilled Mountain Dew all over Oliver’s custom-made suit. Some of it had even made its way to his now swelling face and into his mouth.

Oliver suddenly felt extremely disoriented. He had been slapped before, but he had never felt like this afterwards. This was more like being hit with a tranquilizer dart. Neither of them knew it, but Oliver’s heart medication had interacted with something in the Mountain Dew. As the sugary beverage dissolved in his saliva, a never-before-seen chemical reaction had already started to occur. Oliver’s muscles started to stretch and contract at lightning speed, and his vision had blurred to functional blindness. He started to panic, and he tried wailing for help but couldn’t seem to push any air out of his chest. All he could hope for was that Michelle wasn’t too stupid to fail to come to his aid.

Michelle looked on with bewilderment. Oliver was shrinking. At first it seemed like his clothes were growing, but as his hands withdrew into his sleeves and his head fell beneath his collar it became clear to her what was happening. Seemingly out of nowhere, Oliver was shrinking! She didn’t know how to respond. All she knew was that she couldn’t have imagined such a thing would have happened in her wildest dreams. The bundle of fancy clothes fell to the floor, and a quiet, high-pitched voice emanated from them. Before even getting a look at whatever was hidden inside of them, what used to be her tall landlord, she jumped to her front door and slammed it shut to keep recent events hidden from curious eyes.

Oliver was panicking, his world dark and overheated. He struggled to breathe and he couldn’t seem to escape his fabric prison. Suddenly, he felt it all shifting around. Petrified, he brought himself into the fetal position and waited for whatever was going to happen to unfold. He hoped things wouldn’t worsen as he was now experiencing the most terrifying moment of his entire life. He could see again as soon as Michelle lifted his suit away and picked him out from inside of his shoes, which now seemed like a bus to him. It dawned on Oliver. He had been shrunk, and looking down at him curiously with a lot less concern than the situation warranted was Michelle, the tenant who he had just called a loser and evicted.

“Well, well, well…” Michelle said to him, her voice now seeming several octaves lower and echoing from Oliver’s point-of-view. “Looks like the big powerful man isn’t what he thought he was… not anymore…”

Oliver really didn’t like the visible joy Michelle was getting from his situation. Frozen in fear, he let her continue.

“Gosh, Oliver,” Michelle said, laughing over her words, “you’re like a fucking insect now! If I’m the loser, what does that make you?! HAHAHAHAH!”

Michelle’s laughs boomed in his ears, almost to the point of overwhelming his hearing. This was turning into sensory overload. He had to stop it all now, whatever the hell it even was…

“Michelle! Listen to me! I don’t know what’s happened, but you gotta help me! You’re the only one who knows about this and—”

“That’s right. I am…” Michelle interrupted him, looking down at him authoritatively.

“You gotta... you gotta…” Oliver struggled to think what to do. “Take me to the hospital! Call an ambulance! Oh god, I gotta call my family! I gotta—”

*BOOOOM*

Michelle slammed her sweaty foot right next to Oliver, knocking him on his butt through the vibrations in the floor.

“Oh, Oliver. Ooooooooliver. My, my, my, you really don’t see the situation here do you?” Michelle said, becoming more menacing.

She planted the end of her foot down on top of the tiny man, pressing him down into the floor with her giant toes. The smell was rancid, and Oliver found his entire body coated with days of accumulated foot sweat just from being in contact with Michelle’s unwashed toes for merely seconds.

Oliver started pounding against Michelle’s toes violently, gasping from a breath of fresh air simultaneously. “Get your fucking disgusting toe off me, Michelle!”

This only emboldened Michelle in her resolve as she pressed him even harder into the floor, restricting the flow of his airways. “I don’t think so, asshole. You’ve been a gigantic pain in my ass ever since I moved into this building, and now it’s payback time! How do you like my toes? You probably think they’re revolting. Well, Oliver, this is only the beginning of what’s to become of your life. I’m gonna make you suffer… in so many ways!”

Michelle broke out into a maniacal laugh like a movie villain. What was even going on? The pathetic unemployed woman with terrible hygiene that Oliver thought so little of now seemed like a merciless tyrant to him. It seemed that she had a vendetta against him too. This whole thing could have been avoided! If he just let the rent go! If he just let Michelle pay as soon as she remembered! If he never came over here, it all could have been avoided! Now he was fighting for his life, yet completely powerless against this foul excuse of a woman. All he could do for now, was gather information.

“Did… did you do this… Michelle? Did you shrink me?” he asked nervously.

“No” Michelle replied plainly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not loving every second of this. Oh, I’m going to have so much fun with you, little slave…”

Slave? Is that what the gigantic bitch was thinking? She wanted him to be her slave? This couldn’t be happening. This actually could not be happening. But it was, and Oliver couldn’t accept it. Every instinct of his was to fight it, but he couldn’t even wriggle out from underneath her gigantic toes.

“Wha-wha-what are you g-going to do to me?” Oliver asked, whimpering.

A huge grin spread across Michelle’s demonic face. “I’m not going to spoil the surprise, but I know you’re going to HATE every fucking second of it… loser.”

The tables had really turned. As Michelle failed to contain the excitement coursing through her, a horror-struck look was painted across Oliver’s face, as he awaited the first of many trials.