Mike was lost. Gone. Out of it. Nowhere. Why wouldn't he be? He had just spent forty-five minutes drenched in warm soapy water while being rotated at high speeds while pressed against an opening in complete darkness, before being tossed uncaringly into a steamless sauna while being flipped and hurled like rag doll, also in complete darkness. When being removed from the dryer, Leslie had easily and unknowingly electrocuted him with the static caused from the freshly dried clothes. Mike remembered that shocks, they hurt only mildly when he was normal sized. Now...he might as well have been given the electric chair. And now he was buried under pounds of soft, warm, and dry clothes. 

He was lost. And the static from the clothes continued to shock him. He may have been a measly speck, but he was still human. Still flesh. And he still took all the shocks. It was a miracle he was still alive. Right now he probably considered that a curse. If he was in any condition to be paying attention, he would have noticed the weight atop of him lessening, as Leslie removed the clothes and put them away. And it got lighter and lighter until everything was removed from him and he was shown the world once more, looking up at his sister standing over him, simply putting her laundry away, nonethewiser of her brother's miserable predicament. 

---

Leslie had gone downstairs and retrieved her laundry from the dryer. Bringing it upstairs, she started putting it away. She was nearly finished with everything, only having a pair of socks, a couple shirts, and underwear left, when Jen came into her room to show her something. 
"Hey, look what I have!" Jen said, showing Leslie a few bottles she had in her hand. "I figured since we worked so hard cleaning the place, we could do this, then maybe go see a movie?"

"Oh, yeah! That sounds fun," Leslie said, picking up the socks from her laundry bin. "What's that color?"

"This is my favorite, it's called 'Prized Possessions Purple', I know, stupid, but it's cool," Jen said as she opened the bottle a bit and let Leslie take a look. 

"Eh, it's alright. I think the green one is better," Leslie said as she shoved her socks into her drawer. "I just have to put these away then we can do it!" Leslie quickly shoved the rest of her clothes into her drawer and headed out into the living room.

Jen and Leslie took seats around the table in the living room, and Jen set the bottles out. All together there was four: Orange, Purple, Green, and Blue. After more debate than there should have been, the two decided on how they were to be divided. They could have easily used the same color, but chose not to, simply because they didn't want to. Jen would be painting her fingernails Blue and toenails Purple, while Leslie took Orange and Green for her finger and toes. 

Jen grabbed the blue bottle of nail polish and gave it a quick shake, and did the same with the Purple one before setting it down and opening up the blue one and began to paint her fingernails. One normally isn't supposed to shake the nail polish, and Jen probably should have known this, but by doing so, she may have inadvertently saved her own brother's life.

---

Mike watched from below as his sister's large hand reached down into his cage and lifted up the sock he was still stuck to. Though, he wasn't as stuck as before, and even in his dazed consciousness he could tell he was starting to fall from the sock. What did he care anymore though? How could this possibly get any worse? Well, he was about to find out. 

Mike was just waiting for Leslie to shove him and the sock in the drawer already, but it never came. Instead he just faced varied movements as she moved about a bit, and he caught glimpses of Jen coming it. It appeared as if she was holding something, but he wasn't sure what it was. All the while, Mike felt himself peeling ever so more off the sock, and slowly regaining his normal consciousness. And then, Mike felt himself move slowly ahead, and looking down saw one of the things Jen was holding. And then Mike fell. 

The free fall awoke Mike from his daze, but it was too late as he was already falling in the air, towards the object Jen was holding. But, what was it? As he fell closer, the top of the object was removed, and Mike saw a pool of purple liquid in it. And he fell closer, and closer, until he landed right in the gap and splashed into the purple pool, before the lid was sealed back on. And finally coming back to his senses, and getting a whiff of what he was swimming in, he finally understood what Jen was holding. A bottle of nail polish.

As Mike splashed down, he went under for a brief second, and as a result, he was purple. Everything on him was purple now. His clothes, his skin, his hair, everything about him was a perfect match, blending in with the pool he was treading it. If he had been big enough to see, no one would even recognize him as anything other than nail polish. Thankfully, he had managed to close his eyes before splashing down, but now he had to keep them shut, or risk getting his vision covered. 

While thicker than water, the nail polish wasn't exactly making Mike float, and he had to continuously tread it to stay up, something he really didn't have the energy for. He had managed to survive the washing machine due to pure luck of an air hole, but this was a glass bottle...the only air pocket was way above him. He would never get up there. Would that be how he died? Drowned in his own sister's nail polish? What a pathetic way to die. 

He could fell the rhythmic movement of his sister as she went somewhere, before setting the bottle containing her own brother down on some surface. Mike was losing energy, and soon he wouldn't be able to keep afloat. He started saying his goodbyes to his family in his head. He knew they weren't trying to kill him, but that's just how things work out when you're only a speck. At least they wouldn't have to know they did this. Mike's legs gave out as he started to sink, which was counteracted as the bottle was lifted, and began to be violently shaken.

For a few mere seconds, Mike was pinballed around the nail polish bottle, hitting several hard walls and getting beat up quite a bit, but overall nothing too terrible, at least given the situation. When he was all over, Mike was sure he was dead, but it was quite the opposite. He was prepared to breath in gallons of purple polish, but instead, he only got air. As it turns out, Jen shaking the nail polish bottle had created a small pocket of air against the side of the bottle, which her tiny brother now inhabited, providing him air to breath and a means to stay out of the pool.

It wasn't the freshest of air, but it was air, and he took what he could. Feeling the cool glass bottle against, he face, Mike hesitantly opened it eyes, and found it free of nail polish, allowing him to see outside. Of course, his view was obscured by the massive digits of Jen's toes, perched right in front of the bottle he was in. He saw little bits of dirt and debris stuck to them and the sole of her foot, and recalled the time when that was him. He felt a tinge of sympathy for those objects on his sister's foot. Through the gaps in her toes, he could see past them and towards Jen who was nonchalantly painting her fingernails and chatting with her sister as if nothing was going on, as if her own brother was in danger right at her feet. Because to her that was the case. 

Mike stayed against the wall and watched as his sisters did their nails for several minutes. It was quite boring, honestly. He could breath right now, yeah, but what if he was stuck in here? From what he knew with his sisters, sometimes nail polish just sat in their rooms for months on end without being used. Mike would be sure to die of boredom if he had to stay in this bottle for more than one day. Mike didn't even bother calling out to his sisters. They would never hear it, and he was still covered in purple. He blended right in to everything. And then he saw Jen's hand reached over lift up the bottle he was in, and the brush behind him lifted upward, carrying massive amounts of polish with it. 

Again and again Mike watched as she took the brush out, painted a nail, and put it back in. It was a video in repeat except it wasn't a video, it was his life. On a few occasions the brush had come close to smacking into Mike, but he still stay fixated against the wall. That didn't last long though, as the familiar crash of the brush happened next to Mike, but now it moved over and easily enveloped him, and grabbed a hold of him. Mike was dragged along the side of the bottle by the brush, picking up more polish as it went. The bristles were nowhere near as massive and menacing as the broom from the kitchen, but it wasn't the normal small size it should have been. And then Mike was held beneath the surface once more, before being lifted up with the brush, along with a massive amount of nail polish as well. 

Mike wasn't holding on to the brush, but he didn't really need to, as the stickiness of the polish held him in place as it was. Through all the polish, he couldn't see much, and only felt the movement of the brush as it lowered towards what he assumed was a toenail. And then the impact happened, and Mike crashed into the nail and was rubbed and rolled across it not once, but twice as it the lifted again and did another coat on the nail. He was not, however, stuck on the nail, rather being lifted up with the brush, ready to get re-coated in the polish. 

Mike splashed down into the bottle again, and was rubbed against the sides, and submerged for too many times in one day, before being lifted again and carried over a nail. Mike and the brushed crashed down onto the nail, this time coming loose from the brush and being painted onto the nail. One would not call his position comfortable: One arm was twisted and stuck behind his back, and the other angled and above his head. His legs were crossed and planted one on top the other. It was actually rather painful, but he had no time to move as the brush returned and put another coat of polish over him, weighing him down and not allowing him to move freely. Then the brush vanished and Mike was left with a view of Jen staring down, not at him, but at her newly painted toes.

Mike tried in vain to move his arms and legs, but he could only manage a twitch, which did nothing to alleviate the uncomfortable position he found himself in. And it only got worse and he could already feel the polish start to dry and harder around him. It was bad enough he had just been painted onto his sister's toenail like he was polish himself, but to be stuck like this was worse. 

Mike saw Jen's face get closer and closer to her nails, and then heard the loud blow of her breath, and felt the breeze hit him from where he was. She was blowing on her nails to dry them, and her face was getting ever so closer to Mike's position. Another blow of breath, and a stronger breeze, and Mike's heartbeat grew faster as he knew was was coming. A louder blow and a stronger breath. She was right next to him. And then the view of her cheek was replaced by the mouth of Jen, mere inches away from him. He was never this close to someone's face. He was literally inches away from his sister, inches away from a potential way out of this hell, but he was helplessly stuck in the polish, and then it started.

The slightly dry and chapped lips of his sister formed into a circle. It was intimidating to Mike, her lips could easily have covered his body, and that was a truly terrifying thought. He was somewhat thankful he didn't end up in there. His situation was no vacation, but he'd be stuck on a toenail any day before being shoved inside someone's mouth. And then the breath started, and Mike was hit with a blast of air that smelt of old food. The invisible yet forceful air spread across Mike's already covered body and only helped to  dry the polish further. And Mike was helpless as he was cemented to Jen's toenail, still in his awkward position. And that was how he found himself covered in purple, and painted onto the purple toenail of his older sister's fourth toe. And Jen moved over to her pinky toe to finish her nails completely, pulling her head back and continuing her chat with Leslie. Finished, she moved her feet back to the floor and stood up, making Mike feel as insignificant and pitiful as ever as he stared upwards at his massive sister standing miles above him.

---

Jen and Leslie sat down at the couch in the living room and began painting their nails, starting first with their fingers. While doing so, they chatted and had a nice time, reconciling the differences they had and wanting to spend time together for Jen had moved out. Leslie was happy to know she was the first and only person to know about it, but reluctantly decided to keep it a secret for now. 

After painting her toenails a nice shade of purple, Jen sat back and admired them. As far as she was concerned, her brother was elsewhere in the world doing whatever with his friend. Nowhere in her mind was there a though that the very same toenails she was admiring had her own younger brother stuck on them in a coat of nail polish she had applied herself. She had no idea she was staring directly at her younger brother, so how then would she know of the hell she was going to put him through, she she set her feet down and stood up, as she and Leslie walked off and got ready to leave for the movies.