Within a few more months the country had undeniably changed, for the better or for the worst depending on which gender you happened to be. By the time a full year of Dianne’s Presidency had passed a whopping 3% of American men still stood over four feet tall. All others were usually two feet or under, with a vast, vast majority of those being three inches tall. The almost draconian laws that had been put into place were strictly enforced and left little room for men in Dianne’s America.

However, if one was a woman then they enjoyed no shortage of benefits. The utter dismissal of men in the American economy had created a huge opportunity that the country’s women almost universally took advantage of. By year’s end almost all jobs and industries were run by women, with a whopping 5% of the work force still being male. Even then, most of that 5% were menial jobs like servants or masseuses.

Any news media criticisms that would’ve been had about this were utterly silenced by the restrictive censorship laws now in place. Simply put, if you expected your news organization to survive you’d better pucker up to the White House. Of course there were those who stuck to their guns to the end. They now stood at about three inches tall in a prison somewhere, but at least they kept their integrity. One by one the various figures in news either converted or were closed down after extensive lawsuits. All save for one. Ironically, the one news program that many would’ve arguably called one of the biggest critics of Dianne Trent of them all.

“Hello everyone and welcome to This Week Today! I am your host, James Tolliver.”

Dianne had a self-satisfied smirk as she sat across the man announcing his show to the world, dressed in only the finest business skirt money could buy. Her being here was like the ultimate victory. A declaration that even her most vocal and adamant critics were nothing before her now.

In one chair she sat, towering as always at her impressive 6”2”. Beside her sat James, now a meager two feet tall. He had a properly sized chair at least, but when positioned beside Dianne it looked like little more than a baby’s highchair at the dinner table. A baby in a little suit. She chuckled at the mental image.

The man shifted uneasily as he looked at Dianne from the corner of his eye. Why he alone had been saved for last he didn’t know, but he knew how important it was to tread carefully. The woman he’d made fun of countless times before could cave his chest in with a single foot now.

“Tonight…” He gulped. “Tonight we have a very special guest. As I’m sure you all can see, allow me to welcome our 45th President. Ladies and Gentlemen, give an applause for the great and beautiful Dianne Trent!”

The audience was the sort who’d have booed Dianne off the stage in the past. Back when men could even afford tickets. Now the figures were nothing but towering zealots who cheered loudly for their progressive President. It was with a shudder that James realized he was the smallest person in a room of over 50.

Dianne, always ever the modest one, relaxed in her chair and let the praise wash over her. Times like these proved above all else that she was in the right. How else could she receive such adoration? Any doubts she might’ve had were washed away in the wave of mania. Not that Dianne had a single doubt mind you.

“Glad to be here James.” She grinned down at the man with thinly veiled amusement. “Finally found a chance to accept that invitation of yours for an interview.”

“Right.” James chuckled nervously. There was no invitation. In fact, he pretty clearly went on record saying he’d never want to be in the same room as Dianne Trent as long as he’d live.

“Well let’s go then.” The blonde impatiently said as she crossed her legs. One long, slender appendage slid over James’s body entirely, seeming to remind him just how small he was before it came over Dianne’s thigh. “No reason to keep the people waiting right?” Her eyes narrowed like a cat’s as she watched him near her feet.

The color faded from James’s face a bit when he saw Dianne’s foot. The black heel bobbed a mere two feet away over half as large as he was. A grim reminder of the fate of more than a few protesters if stories were to be believed. “Yes, well…” What a bind he’d found himself in. He had questions yes, but with the laws they way they were...No, he could do this. He just needed to be careful.

“How about this for a start? As you are no doubt aware, your campaign has been...shall we say...polarizing?” He began carefully, half expecting the foot to come and kick him for talking. “Do you have anything you’d like to say to your detractors? Perhaps to assure them that you aren’t as bad as they say you are…?”

Dianne kept her eyes squarely on James. Her oceanic gaze seemed to see right through him to the squared man trying not to quiver in his chair. Then she smirked and turned her radiant face to the camera. “Well James, funny you should ask that. See, I don’t have any detractors. What you are referring to is what I like to call “Media Propaganda”. It’s okay, happens to all of us. See, you can’t always believe what you see on TV. That’s why I got people, good people, who tell me my approval rating is the Highest in American History.” A couple woops came from the audience, earning a small chuckle from Dianne.

“They tell me it’s 100%. Now I’m sure there’s a bit of a margin for error there. Happens to all of us. We all make mistakes. Heck, you look like you made a couple yourself there short stuff.” There were a few snickers. “But still, even if it’s 95- Heck, 90. I’m still the most beloved President of all time!”

He’d thought it many times while listening to her speak, but James really was reminded how outright delusional Dianne was. He didn’t know if she genuinely believed what she was saying or was just incredibly stupid, but to hear her speak never failed to make him tense. James waited until the applause had stopped before proceeding. “Well, even if they do approve of you Madame President you do have your critics as I’m sure you are aware. What do you have to say about the allegations regarding your Vice President Michelle Pierce and her alleged history with radical femi-nazi groups?” He asked in the most neutral voice he could muster while being terribly afraid.

“Look.” Dianne began, lifting her hands up to gesture as she spoke. “You don’t know Michelle like I know her. She’s a great woman. Best woman. Heck, almost as great as me. I’m not afraid to say it. She’s a dear friend of mine, so I can say without a shadow of a doubt that she is not some crazy sexist radical. She loves men as much as I do. Some of our friends are men. Some of our relatives are men. This country was founded by men. We do not hate men! Know who hates men? Men!”

In her fervor Dianne suddenly stood, her massive feet coming dangerously close to James’s smaller chair as she loomed over him and spoke passionately to the all-female audiences. “People look at me. They look at me and go “Dianne, why do you hate men so much?” I don’t. No, what I hate is injustice. Men are rapists, and for too long they got away with their actions, and it’s thanks to me they’re finally held accountable for violating America. They didn’t think I’d do it. They dared me. Heck, they dared me during the election. They said I wouldn’t use our technology to shrink criminals. They said I didn’t have the guts. You know what I said to them? I said to them, that the shrunken criminals just got smaller.”

What followed was a standing ovation as the room in its entirety stood and cheered. Did what Dianne say make logical sense? No. Did it answer the question? Not really. Did people love it? Absolutely. The crowd was completely enamored with Dianne. A clear example of what the common woman thought of their President, and unfortunately, it seemed like their opinion was the only one that really mattered.

James cleared his throat and let the crowd do their thing yet again. He waited for Dianne to take a seat, but the blonde seemed content to stand. She turned around, hands on her wide hips as she smirked down at the two-foot tall man. “I see.” James couldn’t maintain eye contact for long and had to look away. The strain of looking so high up and around her busty chest as well as the intensity with which Dianne looked at him both effective deterrents. “Well, research shows that since your Presidency crime rates are at an all time high an-”

“No no no no no.” Dianne interrupted without any pretenses of letting him finish. “See, there you go again with that slander James. See, crime is actually lower than it's ever been before. Its always been this bad, just now people are actually getting punished for it. I mean look at you. You used to be a pretty tall guy right? Or at least less short?” She grinned. “Then you went and said all that slander and now look at ya. That’s not a rise in crime. That’s consequences. I think I speak for everyone when I say I’m personally happy to see some justice around here. Too long has the little woman been stepped on by the big man. Now it’s time for some women to do some stepping of their own.” As if to demonstrate, her heeled foot slammed directly in front of James, the force of it shaking his chair. “Nobody’s above the law.” She added with a flip of her flowing hair.

James was afraid. Truly, unabashedly afraid. Even so, the journalist within him just couldn’t take this sitting down. He hopped from his hair and stood before Dianne’s foot, looking up to the towering woman. Unfortunately her bust cut off his view, but that didn’t stop him from speaking plainly. “You can’t just marginalize an entire gender and sweep it under the rug like nothing happened! That doesn’t make -Gah!”

Once again James was interrupted. Not by Dianne’s words, but with her foot. Without warning the heel lashed out and kicked him, knocking the man back a dozen feet. Pain radiated from his entire torso. Something was definitely broken. “I-I think I need a doctor!” He cried.

Much to his horror, nobody seemed to call foul on what had clearly just happened. “Sorry, my foot slipped. You gotta remember to look out James. Big girl like me can’t always keep looking out for the little man.” Dianne sounded like she was suppressing the biggest laugh. The ground shook beneath James as she walked towards him, heels settling on either side of his body. Above she loomed larger than ever. “I think what you need is an attitude adjustment. You know what happens on the Third Strike James. I came here hoping to patch things up and move on, but it’s looking pretty clear to me that you’ve got no intentions of learning your lesson here.”

She reached within her breast pocket with a wide grin, procuring a small device from within. James didn’t need to see it to know it was special. “But hey, I’m a fair gal. Let’s let the people decide!” Dianne turned towards the audience. “What do you think America?”

Almost immediately the chant began, steadily growing louder and louder until the entire room shook.

“Shrink Him Shrink Him Shrink Him Shrink Him Shrink Him Shrink Him”

After a few seconds Dianne turned back to James with the biggest, smuggest grin. “Sorry James. Gotta give the people what they want.” She pressed something along the device and James felt it, the sinking feeling of shrinking even smaller.

“As you know Third Strike offenders can’t own businesses anymore, so I think this’ll be your last episode; but hey, at least you went out with a bang right?” Dianne shrugged. “Don’t worry, I know this great girl in New York. Wonderful babe, she’ll take great care of you.”

As the shrinking worked itself through James’s system he began to feel woozy. The injuries he’d gotten seemed to have finally gotten him. Everything began to spin around him, the chanting of the Trent supports morphing into a distorted noise before he finally just passed out.