Laura sat at the bar of the pub where she had been expecting to meet her date at least two hours earlier. The glass she whirled around on its base between her hands swilled the last drops of wine about its edges as her gaze stared sadly into nothing. She had gone to a lot of effort for this evening, she had made sure to pull the front of her shining auburn hair to the back of her head and use a complicated bun and pin combination to give her an oriental style look. The rest of her hair hung in a well kept cascade down the back of her neck brushing lightly over the meticulously thought out aqua green blouse, in the opening of which sat a delicate gold necklace with a small white gold wing as a pendant.

She had chosen a dark cherry red for her lipstick as she didn't want any bright colours to clash against the bold colour choice of her blouse, but she had gone with a complimentary sky blue eye shadow and a pinkish/peach blush. Her nails were long and also sky blue with flicks of white streaking up them almost as though to simulate reeds in a pond and they clacked softly against the glass as she manipulated it with her fingers. She had chosen a simple black pencil skirt, black nylons and shiny black high heels with open toes for her lower body because she knew she had the figure to pull it off, but right now none of this counted for anything.

She had already brushed off two advances from people that evening, claiming she was waiting for someone and to her mind she was telling the truth. The unfortunately truth however was to become a wait without an end as she sighed, knocked back the last of her third glass of wine and placed the glass away from her across the bar laying her head in her hand and letting her other arm stretch lazily out in front of her. She was bored, annoyed, upset and somewhat heartbroken, she's had a good feeling about this one from their chats and emails but it seemed this too was just going to be another dead end apparently.

"Hey, can I get you another?" Came the voice of the barman as he stood stereotypically drying a glass with a cloth, the glass seeming to be getting wetter however owing the the well used nature of his towel, but he didn't seem to notice as he went through the motions.

Laura stared with slight confusion at first, her mind slightly foggy from the drink, then slid her gaze over to her empty glass. Damn stuff never did sit there for too long when she had something on her mind. The barman knew her, knew what she tended to drink, she had been here often enough on other dates and with friends though she never did catch his name, but he was a friendly enough kind of person.

"Nah, I was waiting..." She paused and took a breath as her inner voice reminded her there was no point explaining herself "I was just about to head off, my friend is running late." She said without much conviction.

"You sure? Maybe I could mix you up one of our specials?" He put in, obviously trying to cheer her up.

'One of our specials'. The words caught Laura's attention as she paused to think about it. She had seen them being served as high end drinks, or when groups of friends were celebrating and wanted something a little different, but she had never considered she might want one right now. She looked at the bar tender as though he were some kind of evil wizard trying to trick her into selling her soul for one last drink.

"I'll buy you the drink, you by the Olive. Deal?" he said with a small smile.

He was, she decided... He was an evil genius bent on enslaving her will. She sat upright on her stool and with a wary glance asked him how much the specials were without the drink.

"Specials no surf, £15, but I'll make sure the olive's a big one for you.” he said with a grin.

“Damn you Satan..” Laura thought to herself as she continued to gaze at the barman. Finally she spoke.

“Okay, but only one while I wait! Then I need to get going...” She said looking away as though she felt she was lying.

The barman simply smiled and set about his work, taking a cocktail shaker form the back of the bar and flipping the top off he started pouring in the ingredients, moving with practised ease along the optics and dropping in gin, martini and then took up a bottle of bitters with a spout on and quicker than Laura could watch he'd splashed it in and had it back on the bar reaching for the midori, adding a few dashes in on top making the mixture turn very slightly green.

“Midori takes away the bitterness of the Olive.” He explained without being asked as he spun the top of the mixer in his hand and slammed it on top of the cup, giving it a good shake up.

He ran through various tricks and shakes which had Laura entertained but she was waiting for the main show, the presentation of the drink complete with olive, and she thankfully didn't have to wait long. The bartender turned to his counter and poured the faintly green mix into a cocktail glass, took a thin metal skewer from one of the jugs by the optics and then took a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked a cupboard under the counter. To Laura it was like a dozen far off voices were crying out, but she couldn't hear what they might have been saying over the noise of the pub or whether they were even male or female. She watched the barman stand again,sliding the cupboard closed with his foot as there came a faint 'plop' from the glass and he scooped it up and brought it to the bar.

Setting it down with the skewer next to the glass he waved a hand dramatically in front of himself as though presenting the drink to royalty, then smiled. There in front of Laura was the light green cocktail in its slender martini glass and, splashing desperately about the drink was a terrified looking tiny man, no more than an inch and a half tall, but no less either. The barman hadn't lied about giving her one of the bigger ones at least. Her heart felt as though it skipped a beat as she looked at it excitedly, listening to its little cries of fear and smiling to herself as she watched, entertained, by its frantic kicking and splashing.

As she watched the tiny man struggle for his life in the drink he managed to splash some of the cocktail over the edge of the glass and onto the bar. Laura swore quietly and grabbed the napkin that had been served with the skewer, mopping up the mess. It seemed to her that even this wasn't going to go right for her this evening and her mind drifted back to thoughts of having been stood up. Having cleared up the small mess Laura settled back onto her seat and gave a small sigh, she glared at the little man still struggling to stay above the surface of her drink and picked up the skewer.

“Stupid olive.” She muttered to herself, reaching into the glass.

Using her long, painted nails she clamped them against the tiny's chest and back, causing it to whimper as she noticed how easily her nails sunk into his skin. She plucked her olive from the drink and immediately it began to kick and flail its limbs, beating at her nails and fingers with its little fists. Laura grimaced at it kicking tiny drips of cocktail about and gave it a little shake up and down to dry it off slightly, causing scared shrieks to come from the little thing again as her nails sliced along its flesh causing a few drops of blood to run down its body. Taking the skewer in her free hand she ran the end of it across her thick pink tongue to wet the length, she was going by what she had seen other people do with these and apparently wetting the end helped it slide through the olive's bodies.

Lowering the sharp tip to the side of the little man she pressed it against its upper arm, but he began to flail again, which to her annoyance kept throwing the skewer off. With a huff of irritation Laura lifted the skewer away and moved in with her fingers instead, pinching the flailing arm between her nails and twisting it backwards behind the man's body. The Olive gave a horrific scream which made Laura notice for the first time he had been screaming and begging up at her throughout his whole ordeal, but to her it was simple background noise, his tiny voice wasn't loud enough to make out over the bar chatter but she didn't care what he had to say anyway.

Pinching him on his sides now she held the apparently dislocated arm firmly against the back of his ribs then took the other arm, snapping that one backwards to mimic the other. A few more desperate screams and Laura was satisfied, adjusting and turning him over between her long fingernails to clamp him firmly into position over the drink and raised the skewer to his arm once more. The tiny man seemed to have exhausted his voice as his mouth bobbed open and closed silently pleading for the giant woman to stop this torture, his head shook back and forth, his eyes screwed shut in pain.

Laura pushed the spike into the flesh of her olive, it resisted at first because she didn't know how much pressure she was supposed to use and she didn't want to end up sticking it into her finger as it came through the other side. With a little extra pressure the tip pierced through the arm and quickly slid into the olive's body. Its eyes bulged with terror and his little legs straightened and twitched, she continued to slide the skewer into him but came to a stop on something solid, giving it a few harder shoves with the point to try and force the rod through.

“Like having a stone in it.” She said quietly to herself, referring to the hard pip found in real olives, before giving a final firm shove.

There was a muted snapping sound, like snapping a biscuit in half and the very edge of Laura's mouth pulled up in a small smile as she was finally able to push the skewer through the rest of her olive. It slid out into the other arm and further still until it poked a couple of inches out of the opposite side of its body. She kept the tiny dangling over her drink, letting the blood trail down its now useless legs as they hung lifelessly from having the skewer pushed through his spine. The drops of blood splashing into her drink and floating gently down like little red orbs of flame.

Laura started to twist the skewer in her fingers, turning it slowly and watching the tiny man's legs flop over and slap against his chest making him scream and cry with his ruined voice. She turned him like she was cooking him on a spit, slowly rotating him, making his blood run in bright streaks all around his body as he found himself upright again but slowly being turn back over himself. He was bent backwards in an arc further and further until once more his head was upside down, his heels tapping gently off of his head. He continued rotating around to face the drink, now a cloudy orangey brown colour having been tainted with his flowing blood as again his lifeless legs flopped over to slap against his chest like a rag doll.

Still half-smiling while she playing with her drink, Laura stared as the colour turned from the vibrant green, idly spinning the olive over and over and vaguely noticing it wasn't screaming any more, it was just crying now. Suddenly she sat upright with a start, dropping her olive into the drink and reaching for her bag in which her phone sat. The olive made a small plop as it disappeared beneath the surface, small bubbles drifting up and the metal skewer clinking lightly off the rim of the glass from its struggles. Meanwhile Laura dug about in her handbag, pulling out her phone which she was sure she had heard go off.

Unlocking her phone she looked at it hopefully, searching for the message logo but finding nothing. She slouched again, her mouth turning down in a slight pout as she went into her inbox to double check she hadn't pressed something wrong and dismissed the 'unread message' logo.

Still nothing.

With heavy sigh she threw her phone back into her purse.

“Asshole.” She muttered, referring to her missing date.

Slumping forward against the bar, her head resting on her hand she plucked her olive back out of her drink, which had now turned a dark red. The little thing coughed and gasped and choked, hanging limp on the skewer. She'd lost her interest in it now, her thoughts firmly involved in her own troubles. She stirred her olive around her drink, mixing the colours together into a deep red as she swirled it slowly, wondering what to do with the rest of her evening. She guessed it would be a pizza and a film on her own, maybe she would pick up a bottle of wine.

As she lazily swirled the olive about she noticed it barely had any fight left in it, its body trailing sadly in the wake of the drink as it moaned pitifully. Laura lifted it out and let it drip onto the napkin next to her glass, then picked up her drink and tipped it in one go into her mouth. Cringing heavily with such a large mouthful of sharp tasting alcohol she gulped it down and sucked a lungful of air in through clenched teeth. Lying the olive on the napkin she she picked up her bag and brushed her skirt straight, readying herself for the walk home.

Lastly, just as she was about to leave she reached over to the skewer and lifted it up, opening her mouth and plopping the olive on her tongue, half-closing her teeth around it and sliding the rod out of her mouth. Her lips sealed shut, she dropped the bare skewer back onto the napkin and she began to chew.

Her tongue tossed the olive to her molars and then her jaw went to work, crushing into its little body and pressing through it easily. Up and down her jaw worked, the muscles flexing delicately behind her cheeks, crunching and grinding her olive's body into a sticky saliva soaked ball of food. She left the pub and headed down the road, her natural rhythms taking over as her tongue made sure she didn't miss any solid bits of food as it worked to flip the olive's remains about her mouth. From one set of molars to the other she worked it around to chew on again, chewing it into a tangy pulp before she swallowed it down, not giving any of her actions to destroy the tiny man's life a second thought.

The End.