The BIGGEST ARCANINE - BLACK TIE FORMAL

Abigail stirred in her sleep at the sound of a metallic ringing sound coming from the kitchen of her flat. She sat up on the futon upon which she had settled for a nap late that Friday morning after her daily run. She stretched long and yawned as the ringing continued, and with a glance at the digital clock on the wall, she felt glad that she had taken off her running clothes before she had lain down; she had slept through the whole day and late into the afternoon; the clock read 5:38 PM.

Abi stood up from the futon and let her thin blanket fall from her body, exposing herself to the privacy of her home, her orange fur prickling in the open air. She walked into the kitchen and found the source of the ringing, her old-style rotary phone. Abi liked collecting these aged technologies; this one was a gift from a friend. She picked up the receiver and twirled the cord around her tail as she opened the refrigerator and pulled out a gallon of milk.

"Hello, Abigail Keegan speaking," she spoke as she opened the carton, drinking directly from the spout.

"Hello, Ms. Keegan," said a refined male voice, "This is Gary Alcott, I work for Mr. Haswell. We are making the final adjustments to our arrangements for the evening, and I have a few questions for you, if you would be so kind as to answer them." The voice sounded tinny and exhausted through the receiver, and Abi could hear the bustle of a kitchen in the background.

Abi finished her draught from the carton and placed it back in the fridge, "Sure Gary, shoot."

"Mr. Alcott, if you please, Ms. Keegan; I prefer to keep arrangements with guests formal. First order of business: I assume you are indeed still planning on attending Mr. Haswell's dinner event this evening?"

Abigail's mind flooded with realization at the purpose behind the call, and she scrambled through the mess of papers on her table, finally finding the invitation. "Yes, of course, G- Mr. Alcott. I was just getting ready." She silently cursed when she saw that the event started at 7:00 PM; she barely had time to shower and fix her hair before she had to leave.

"Good, good, and do you have any particular allergies, Ms. Keegan?"

Abi quickly read through the invitation to a formal dinner party in honor of "healthy macro/micro relations" and saw the name inscribed in rich, black ink at the bottom: Duncan Haswell. "No, I'm not allergic to anything," Abigail remembered receiving the letter. Mr. Haswell had sent an "associate" to her house. The woman had dropped off the letter and left after a brief message of invitation.

"Yes, and for the final question: will you be needing a ride to the event? Mr. Haswell has made it clear that no expenses will be spared to make his g-" A clatter rang out in the background and Alcott could be heard reprimanding someone rather harshly before he returned to the phone. "Apologies, Ms. Keegan. As I was saying, Mr. Haswell has spared no expenses in making his guests comfortable, and he has provided transportation to and from the event for guests so inclined."

Abigail stood tapping her foot and twirling the cord impatiently, she wanted to shower and be ready in time, "Yes, thank you, that'd be great Mr. Alcott."

"Thank you, Ms. Keegan. We await your presence at the event tonight. I'm sure I needn't remind you that there is a black tie formal dress code. Your transportation will arrive at 6:40 PM sharp. Have a pleasant evening."

"Yes, thank you," Abi said as she clicked the receiver down. She almost regretted not having a wireless phone installed, but she shirked the thought as she made her way to her bathroom, turning on her showerhead

Abigail stepped right into the shower, and took no time in relishing the feeling of the hot water as it soaked into her fur and ran down her body, her body being fully shampooed, conditioned, and rinsed within twenty minutes. Abi stepped over the full-body dryer vent in her floor and flipped the switch. Instantly a blast of warm air hit her body and began drying her deep orange fur. She turned the vent off once she was dry and instantly began working on her hair and tail, rubbing in product to ready the fur for her curling iron.

As the primer set in her hair, Abigail ran to her room and picked out a brassiere and panties, sliding them on quickly as she pulled her formal gown out of her closet and slipped in on over her head, pulling her tail through the gap in the back but leaving the straps at her sides and adjusting her bra as she rushed back to the bathroom, taking a glance at the clock as she did so: 6:13 PM.

Abi got to work using her curling iron to style her hair. Once she had finished curling her hair, she pinned it up so that it looked proper. Slipping her arms into the straps of her dress, she walked back into her room to get out a pair of dress sandals that she slipped over her footpaws, fixing the straps as she heard the honk of a horn from in front of her flat. Her driver was here.

As Abigail walked past out of her bedroom, she stopped to look at herself in the mirror. She had made very good work of her time. Her hair was an orderly mess of attractive curls that flowed in waves parted and pinned to the right down over her shoulder to greet her red silk gown with a decollete neckline that followed the contours of her waist and hips, her tail matching her hair and flaring out teasingly behind her, before tapering out and flowing down around her legs, with a gash in the left side that showed her calf, the hem stopping just short of her ankles that bore the white straps of her low-heeled sandals that showed more of her feet than they covered. She looked like she was ready to go to a formal dinner.

Abi waked into the kitchen and grabbed her black leather wallet before heading out her front door, locking it behind her and walking down the sidewalk to the curb, where a black luxury car awaited her, a Stantler macro behind the wheel. She climbed inside and the driver spoke as he pulled away from the curb.

"Don't we look awfully pretty tonight, Miss." His voice was smooth, but nasal, and he spoke in a polite tone as he paid her the compliment.

"Thank you, sir," Abigail accepted. She was relieved that she didn't have to walk all the way to the hall where the dinner was taking place; she would have surely been late. "It was awfully nice of Mr. Haswell to have provided transportation to the event."

"Yeah, Mr. Haswell has always cared greatly for the macros in his community, and he would hate to inconvenience anyone invited to the event tonight, or any night for that matter."

"Well, I'll surely have to thank him in person," Abigail said with a sheepish smile. "If I can even meet the guy; I'm surprised he just invited me to a dinner party right out of the blue like that; I'm just a barista at the local Geant Petit."

"That's the cafe that caters to both macros and micros, down by the fountain plaza? The one that does those charity drives for micro communities?"

Abi nodded, "Yep, that's the one. I serve coffee to both sizes, although it's obviously easier to serve people like you and me." They shared a chuckle. "I also plan most of the charity events they put on." Realization struck Abi, "Maybe that's how I fit in to macro/micro relations."

"I'm sure that's at least part of the reason you were invited to the party tonight, Miss..."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Ms. Abigail Keegan," Abi blushed.

"Anthony Dodson." Abi could hear the man's smile in his voice. "Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Keegan."

"Same to you, Anthony, and Abi's fine." Abigail smiled politely.

"Alright, Abi," Anthony maintained his smile, "As I was saying, I'm sure that your work in charity is at least part of why you were invited out here. Did you know that the Geant Petit charities have made two entire macro districts of the city safely micro-accessible?"

"Wow, really? I didn't know that it had such an impact."

"Yep. Geant Petit is a lot more popular than most people think." Anthony slowed the car to astop outside a well-lit entrance to an official-looking building. "Here's your stop on the left: Palett Hall. You have a nice night, Abi, and I'll be on call to pick you up whenever you're ready to leave. Enjoy the party!"

Abi stepped out of the car and shut the door, looking to Anthony in the window, "Thank you, and you too!" She waved goodbye as he drove off towards the parking lot.

Abigail walked towards the open doors of the impressive Palett Hall. The hall contained a ballroom and an auditorium, as well as two courtrooms and a large reception foyer, this she remembered from reading about the place in her high-school history class. As she reached the doors, two men wearing suits, one with a checklist, stopped her and asked for her name. Once she provided it, she was let through into the foyer where she saw countless micros walking around in lanes designated for them and about eight or nine macros like herself standing around.

Everyone present was very well dressed and one of the macros, a sharply dressed Persian, quickly waved Abigail over to the group. She approached quietly, careful to stay away from the micro zones so as to avoid stepping on anyone, and when she arrived at the group, the Persian man introduced himself softly.

"Ms. Abigail Keegan? I am Mr. Gary Alcott, head of staff," said the Persian, his voice just as exhausted as before but more refined and much smoother in person. "If you could keep your voice down while in the foyer so as to avoid echo and discomfort to our smaller guests, it would be very much appreciated." Abigail nodded in understanding. "Please, Ms. Keegan, step this way and we will have you seated shortly."

Abigail quietly stood in line as the macros were led to their seats one by one by Alcott. They walked around the elevated platforms that held the tables seated with many micros, and Abi could hear the indistinct chatter of conversation all around as she passed through the room to her table. Once she had reached her seat, she was informed that she could speak normally as the ballroom was designed to be size-accessible and the acoustics were properly maintained as such.

Abigail was the last to be seated of five at her table. She in between a hefty, middle-aged Purugly woman wearing a purple gown and a pink dresscoat who was currently reading a small phamplet and an elderly but important-looking Torkoal dressed in a tuxedo with a tophat and monocle. Across from her sat a Raichu just as venerated and well dressed as the Torkoal and the two were conversing amongst themselves in a gentlemanly manner. A mysterious-looking Luxray woman, seemingly slightly older than Abi herself, sat to the Purugly's right, wearing a black maxi gown and looking around the room in a pensive manner, taking particular interest in the nearby tables of micros.

A golden Vulpix macro waitress with a tray of champagne approached the table and asked Abi if she would like a drink to start the evening. Looking around, Abi noticed that the two gentlemen to her left were drinking what looked like brandy, and the Luxray woman had a martini in her hand. Abi took a glass of champagne and thanked the young waitress, who dismissed herself and went to offer more drinks at another table.

After a few moments, once everyone had been seated, there was a tapping of a glass coming from the speakers that pulled the low conversation to a stop. Everyone looked up to see a micro on the screen over the podium, upon which said micro stood. He addressed the crowd in the silence.

"I want to first of all thank all of you for coming to this dinner tonight. I'm your host, Duncan Haswell, Local Head of Macro-Micro Relations. I have invited some of the most prolific faces in the local area that are involved in activities with both macros and micros. If our macro guests would please stand and be recognized; you are our guests of honor tonight."

The macros present, three tables of five, all rose and a low rush of applause could be heard from all of the micro-sized tables. As they sat down again once the applause had subsided, Haswell resumed.

"I won't bore anyone with statistics or political fodder," he said with a laugh, "If you want that, you can bother me for it after dinner. Food will be presented shortly, until then, waitstaff will be carrying hors d'oeuvres and drinks can be requested. Please, enjoy the evening." Haswell smiled and the screen above the stage switched off, the chatter of the party resuming only a moment later.

As the chatter resumed, the Purugly woman turned to introduce herself to Abigail.

"Darling," her voice was as pompous as it was refined, "It appears we have not met. My name is Madam Deborah Potting, might I have yours?"

"Abigail Keegan, but Abi is fine," Abi returned with a smile.

Madam Potting smiled back and rubbed the fur collar around her neck before responding, "Ms. Abigail Keegan, it's a beautiful name."

Abi blushed slightly, "Yours is as well, Madam Potting."

Madam Potting simply smiled as the Vulpix waitress brought her a glass of water. She thanked her and began rooting around in her handbag.

Abigail quietly sipped on her champagne while she waited for the hors d'oeurvres. She hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning and couldn't wait for the food to be brought out; her mouth was already watering. She noticed the Luxray woman bend down towards the ground before coming back up and taking a sip from her martini, and Abi noticed other people at other tables doing the same. She looked down around her and realized that the waitstaff carrying the hors d'oeuvres were micros!

Surprised, Abi bent down to pick up the nearest one, a young Lopunny woman carrying what looked like glazed fruit with bits of meat on top. The waitress seemed uncomfortable, but didn't resist as Abi tossed her in her mouth, rolling the micro and appetizer around on her tongue, tasting the sweet and savory flavors of the hors d'oeuvre coupled with the musty, salty flavor of the waistcoated Lopunny. She caught a glare from the Madam Potting, who was looking at Abi with an expression of disbelief as she placed her water back on the table.

Abi chewed her mouthful and swallowed, causing Madam Potting's expression to go from disbelief to disgust, and she began to chastise Abigail.

"Ms. Keegan," she said in an intense whisper, "What could have possibly possessed you to eat that poor waitress?!"

Abi held her hand over her mouth as she licked her chops, answering calmly, "Madam Potting, they're not even carrying trays, I'm pretty sure it's OK." Potting's expression didn't change as Abi continued, "Besides, it's perfectly fine everywhere else, why not here?"

Abi gestured to the Luxray woman to illustrate her point, and Madam Potting looked to see her picking up two waitstaff, putting both hors d'oeuvres in her mouth with one of the tinies and plopping the remaining waiter in her martini, which she slowly sipped from after carefully chewing her mouthful, taking care to not crush the micro inside, and swallowing softly.

Madam Potting looked offended but quickly withdrew from the conversation as Abi sipped more champagne. She felt more ready than ever to eat the food that was to be served any minute, and she impatiently started to tap one of her feet before she felt a tickling sensation on her resting one. She looked down to see a well-dressed micro she didn't recognize, an apparently teenaged Luxio.

With a slight smile, Abi flexed her toes, holding the position in front of the Luxio boy, who looked up at her. She gave a slight nod, and a stupid grin crossed his face as he stepped in between her toes. Abigail sat up straight again and began gently working the micro in between her toes, squeezing and grinding his body against her sandals while nonchalantly sipping on champagne. It wasn't until a few moments had passed that she noticed the Luxray woman looking at her with a dry smile. She looked away after blinking at Abi, swallowing another mouthful and sipping her now unoccupied martini, her smile still on her face. Abigail hid her blush by asking for another glass of champagne.

When the Vulpix girl came by to refill Abi's glass, she noticed that Abigail had grabbed another micro waiter carrying an hors d'oeuvre, and as she chewed around the micro as she had seen the Luxray woman do, the macro waitress spoke.

"I see you are enjoying the smol d'oeuvres, shall I send for a tray for the table?" she addressed the group.

The two men simply continued their raucous chatter and Madam Potting scoffed. Abigail swallowed and opened her mouth to speak when the Luxray woman spoke up first.

"No thank you, my dear, the waitstaff are providing plenty as they come by." Her voice was mature and bore confidence behind pride. "If I could get a refill on my martini, however..."

The golden Vulpix nodded and rushed off to the kitchen, carefully avoiding stepping on any of the smaller waitstaff as she passed them.

Abigail's right foot's passenger was stirring, and Abi began pushing at him harder with her toes, being careful not to crush him. The podium's screen flickered to life as she toyed with the boy, smushing his face into her toe pads as Haswell began to speak again.

"I'd like again for our honored guests to take a stand for a quick round of applause in celebration for the goal of this event: to recognize the far reaches our community has taken to unite the macro and micro populations of Pocket City."

Abigail scrunched her toes together to move the micro under her footpaw into her arch so he wouldn't be pancaked into mush when she stood up. The low roar of applause sounded about the room and once it had subsided and the macros had been seated, Haswell began a speech about how the macros present had been major proponents and benefactors to the local micro communities, but Abigail was barely listening as she played with her footslave under the table. She almost didn't even notice when Mr. Haswell called her name.

"Abigail Keegan, who has been the major planner for the local Geant Petit Semiannual Charity events, the programs responsible for the micro-accessible accomodations here tonight, for the past three years. Give her a round of applause, ladies and gentlemen."

Abigail stood up, leaning all of her weight on her left foot as she hadn't had time to adjust the little guy in her sandal when Mr. Haswell had spoken. She sat down as soon as the applause subsided and Mr. Haswell began addressing a "Laci Simon."

As the Luxray woman stood up, Abi stooped down and adjusted the strap of her sandal while at the same time spreading her toes to check on the Luxio boy. He was breathing ragged but still had that silly grin on his face and his tongue flopped out of his mouth as he lay on his back. Abigail giggled to herself when she saw his rumpled suit and messy hair, and slowly closed her toes back over him, sitting back up and straightening her hair a bit.

A moment later, she heard Mr. Haswell's speech end, "And with individual recognition out of the way, I implore you all to eat and enjoy the rest of the evening. Let the party be under way!"

As soon as the screen above the stage had flickered off, Abigail saw the golden Vulpix girl approaching with a platter of various steaming vegetables and meats, and her mouth began watering anew, the two smol d'oeurvres she had eaten only egging her hunger on. She absentmindedly massaged her passenger with her right foot as she tucked into the veal steak that the Vulpix waitress brought to her, supplementing her meal with various pieces from the platter, making her plate rather colorful. The Vulpix also presented the table with a selection of wines, pouring out the preferred glass for each macro at the table.

As Abi worked through her delicious meal, she noticed that the two gentlemen to her left had hardly touched their food and that their laughter and chitchat was as loud as ever as the room buzzed with the sounds of laughter and talking and eating and quiet music. She bore through the last of her steak and vegetables as she saw the Luxray, Laci, drop something in her glass of wine. She locked eyes with Abi as she smiled and tilted the glass backwards to drink, revealing a micro Liepard waitress who looked distressed but soon disappeared into the wine. She blinked at Abi as she had done before as she swished the mouthful before swallowing it. Madam Potting had noticed the waitress in Laci's wine as well, and was visibly disdainful of her surrounding company, though she sat in polite silence as she ate her own meal of salmon and sorrel.

Abi finished her food without speaking, simply enjoying listening to the humorous anecdotes of the two gentlemen, who were very obviously embellishing their stories to their audience of ladies, and gently grinding the micro in her sandal into her paw pads, feeling his face pressing into her meticarpal pad. She patted her belly, now content with food, when the Vulpix returned to ask the table for their dessert choices. Abi drooled again at the thought of a slice of angel food and sorbet, and the five placed their various orders, letting the music sink in.

The table was focused on a particularly funny story being told by the Raichu, whose well-kempt mustache bobbed hypnotically with every word. As Abigail began eating her sorbet, the Vulpix returned with a box of chocolates and hushedly gave them to Laci, whispering something in her ear that put a smile on Laci's face. Abi watched her put the chocolates to the side and shrugged, turning her attention back to her dessert.

At the end of the night, Abigail felt a small bit tipsy. She could feel the little Luxio boy under the arch of her foot, squirming uncomfortably as she walked out of the building. Once she reached the entrance, she nearly tripped down the stairs, bumping into the Torkoal and Raichu gentlemen, who looked at each other with a tad bit of concern.

"Are you alright, my dear?" the Torkoal inquired, his raspy, rugged voice cutting through Abi's swaying vision and swimming head.

"I'll be alright... just need to," she laughed a bit, "get off my feet for a minute."

The two elderly macros helped Abi to a bench in front of the building.

"Is there anyone you need us to call upon to pick you up, Ms. Keegan?" asked the Raichu man.

"Yes. His name is Anthony Dodson. He drove me here." Abi leaned back on the bench, spreading her toes and feeling the squirming beneath her foot begin anew.

As the two gentlemen called for Abi's ride, she removed her sandals and looked down at the insole of her right one. There, tuckered out and damp with sweat, was a little Luxio boy in a terribly rumpled suit with a huge dumb grin plastered across his face. Abi reached down and gently picked him up.

"Well, little guy," Abi teased, "Enjoy the evening?"

The micro nodded through his panting, and slowly sat up in Abi's palm.

"Can you... take me... to my big sister... L-?" he panted.

Abi giggled at the exhausted boy's words, "Are you sure you don't want a goodbye kiss? Although a big ol' doggo like me might gobble you up if you're too forward. We kiss with our tongues, you know."

The Luxio boy's eyes widened at the prospect of a kiss; his smile never left his face. He closed his eyes and leaned forward as Abi opened her mouth to let out her tongue, slowly dragging it up the teen's body as she slowly opened her mouth more. The boy leaned into her Abigail's tongue and was eventually hugging it and rubbing his face on it. Abi pulled her tongue back inside her mouth, gently tasting the Luxio boy.

The micro was salty from being under her feet for the past two hours, and Abi rolled him around on her tongue, pulling the subtle musky flavor of his fur and dryly swallowed him whole. The two men who had finished calling her car and had witnessed the whole event looked at each other and shrugged dismissively as Abi gulped a bit harder, the Luxio boy's suit slowing his descent into her belly.

Anthony pulled up in the car he had driven to the event with a moment later and Abi stepped in, carrying her sandals and wallet, and the car drove off into the night. A few paces behind the two old men that were again chattering away stood the Luxray woman, Laci. She wore a wry smile as she watched Abi's car turn the corner down the street. She had seen Abi eat the Luxio boy as well, and she turned as her own personal driver pulled up on the curb. She held her box of chocolates close, and listened to it as she stepped into the car, listening to the tapping sound coming from the inside of the box and relishing the idea of eating one of the delectable little treats inside when she got home. This had been a great night, and she had a new potential friend to look out for, even if she had eaten her brother.