Nikki hated the stupid sorority thing. She only did it to prove to her parents that she was doing something besides getting high all the time. The oldest of the her pledge class, Nikki had agreed only to rush for the sorority to keep the tuition money from her parents flowing.
     But as the dirty blonde 25-year-old stared at the underside of a colossal bare foot from relative safety beneath a bed in some random bedroom in the apartment, she was beginning to wish she’d just dropped out…or studied…whichever was easier.
     “I’ll probably let him take me out a few more times for the free food, but I’ll drop it after that,” said Spencer, the sisterhood’s leader as she sat at a chair near the bed, her black yoga pants rolled up just below her smooth, tan legs.
     “Yeah, I’ve been there,” came the booming voice of Ashley, the 6-foot 2-inch, 180-pound star basketball player of the college. She was sitting on the bed, sporting nothing but a white tank top and panties, her olive skin accentuated by hair so dark that it bordered on black. One foot dangled over the edge of the bed, perfect toe nails painted cherry red, swinging casually back and forth. The bottom of her foot was a light pink, which sharply contrasted the golden tan that so made up the top.
     To the quarter-inch Nikki far below, the foot swung like a massive ship of flesh, beautifully hypnotic, the wrinkles in the sole large enough to wedge herself in between if she so chose.
     But she knew she’d never get out.
     Backing away, she looked around the massive bedroom, trying to figure out where to go…
     Above, Spencer opened a desk drawer and emptied the contents of a plastic baggie onto the bed. A familiar scent filled the room…one Nikki was utterly familiar with…and soon Spencer was cutting and rolling green marijuana into papers as the two titanic women continued their utterly pointless conversation.
     Below, Nikki continued her frantic search for an exit, knowing she had only a few moments before the sisterhood was alerted that she hadn’t moved. Above, she heard something to the effect of, “Hopefully one of the little shits shows up soon, last year I didn’t get to step on any of them.” Nikki didn’t know which one said it, but she didn’t care. A foot was a foot. She’d squish all the same. She had more important things to figure out, like finding a new hiding spot.
     As she started toward the back of the bed, away from the building-sized foot, she heard a scraping sound from far above, like a flicking, and then—
     From behind her, there was a clanking so loud that she had to cover her ears. When she turned, she saw what appeared to be a purple, plastic lighter the size of a tractor trailer lying on its side. Then, slowly, a hand descended from above, the 80-foot-long fingers clasping the lighter.
     Nikki froze in fear, watching the massive digits pull the lighter skyward and out of view.
     That is, until, with a curious glance, Ashley took a peek under the bed, and in that next moment Nikki was faced with an eyeball bigger than a swimming pool staring directly at her, a wide smile forming over the basketball star’s face.
     “Well, look what we have here.”
     Nikki tried to run, but it was to no avail. She found herself caught between the thumb and forefinger of the colossal woman, squeezed so tightly that she unable to move let alone breathe. To Ashley, it was like pinching a speck of dust or a small pebble. Spreading her hand, the micro-sized Nikki rolled down Ashley’s finger and onto the basketball court-sized expanse of the giantess’s palm, the ridges almost up to her ankles. She tried to stand, but her wobbly, terrified legs combined with the excited shaking of Ashley’s open hand wouldn’t allow her.
     “Hmm,” Ashley smiled a wicked grin as Spencer—standing seven inches shorter—looked on. “Not to be too obvious with the foreshadowing, but I think I know what my next step is going to be!” She clenched her toes as she spoke.
     The words sent a chill down Nikki’s spine. Tears formed around her eyes. Not like this. Not like this.
     “Really?” Spencer put her hands on her hips. “That’s it?”
     “Yah, I want to squish it.”
     It. Nicole Stout had a boyfriend she loved and who was probably thinking about her right now. Parents. Friends. A life. But in that moment, she had been reduced to an it.
     “I’ve got a better idea,” Spencer said, plucking the tiny Nikki from Ashley’s palm. “I’ve always wanted to try this.”
     Ashley looked on curiously as Spencer flattened out a roll of cigarette paper with one hand and plopped Nikki down onto it, then proceeded to sprinkle flakes of pot over the shrunken pledge as it screamed and screamed for a mercy that would never come. Spencer rolled the paper over the squirming womant, reducing her cries of terror to muffles.
     Then, she placed one end in her mouth and lit it up.
     Ashley and Spencer passed the joint back and forth, the tiny bit of extra flavor wriggling and screaming in the middle. Through the paper, they could hear her muffled bawls as the flame grew nearer and nearer with each puff the two goddesses shared.
     Inside, Nikki’s world had become a literal hell. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, and couldn’t open her eyes. The moment she did, they burned so bad that she could feel her eyeballs start melting away. The heat was so intense that it was almost cool, frying the nerves in her skin. She screamed and coughed, but her wheezes became pathetic and inaudible as the flame neared. She tried to cry as the pain intensified and she felt yet another rush of smoke—another puff taken by one of the sisters—pass over her burning body. She coughed, and coughed, and coughed, and—
     Ashley coughed, dropping the joint to the floor. She didn’t smoke as much as Spencer and it showed. The joint broke apart below, its ashes spreading, the orange embers immediately fading.
     “Good job!” Spencer rolled her eyes, half-aggravated, half-joking.
     On the hardwood floor, they could make out the tiny, quarter-inch-long body of Nikki, most of her hair burned away, her body charred.
     “Is it alive?” Ashley asked.
     “Let me see.” Spencer got down on her haunches and picked up the little thing out of the soot. The ash blackened her finger, but from the tiny creature came a pathetic little cough. “Yep,” Spencer laughed.
     “Well then, ahem,” Ashley cleared her throat and pointed at her feet.
     “Ugh, fine, if you want to be boring.”
     “I prefer the term ‘simplicity.’”
     Spencer gave in and dropped Nikki. The micro girl would have felt something if she could have felt anything, but her body had given up. All that remained was a shred of blurry consciousness. She didn’t even feel herself hit the floor. But through her foggy vision, looking straight up, she could see the colossal sole of Ashley as the giant woman pivoted her foot on her heel. Engulfed by shadow, the last thing Nikki saw was the ball of the basketball star’s bare foot—itself the size of a building—rush down at her before everything cut to black.
     “Ah!” Ashley sighed. “That’s better!” She let the squished body of the pledge soak into the hardwood for a bit, then sat down on the bed as the buzzer rang outside. Lifting her foot, she and Spencer admired the stain—part red, part black from the ash—barely visible, smushed against her sole.