"Are they open?" Anthony asked, peering through a dark window, "I don't see anyone in there..."

Ann, the shorter of the couple, approached the door of the facility, pulling it open easily. "It's an escape room place, honey," she laughed, "They like to make it seem mysterious." She held the door open, taking the extra second to out her lengthy black hair into a ponytail.

"Welcome to Tray!" A friendly voice called out. Around the corner, a young woman smiled from behind her receptionist desk. She was wearing a gray polo shirt embroidered with the company logo, and a visor sporting the same. She shuffled her papers as the couple approached. "Have you folks ever been here before?"

"Nope." Anthony responded, Ann offering the same sentiment with a shake of her head.

"Alright, I'll give you a quick rundown of what we do then." The receptionist motioned to a wall-mounted TV displaying a slideshow, a remote in her hand to control it, "Tray is a competitive escape room game using our proprietary shrinking technology." She advanced a slide, displaying a model seated at a dinner table. "The rules are simple: One of you will be seated in our restaurant while the other comes back to the shrinking station. After a few minutes, one of our waitresses will bring a tray of appetizers to the table and start the timer. The now-shrunken person will be hidden somewhere in the food," She advances the slideshow again, this time displaying a very small man breaded into the side of some fried delicacy. "His job is to escape the dish, but not empty-handed. Somewhere on the tray is a small key, and if he finds it, he can escape the tray altogether and use the key to lock in his score. If he gets that far, he wins the round and gets points based on his time."

Anthony jumped in the moment the receptionist took a breath. "Hold on..." he interrupted, "You keep saying 'he.' Do we get to pick who shrinks?"

The receptionist tilted her head as if sorry for what she was about to say "Unfortunately sir, the shrinking stations aren't a perfect technology and can only currently shrink men. Most couples seemed interested in that arrangement, so they developed it first. Using it on women is sadly just a bit too dangerous, so you'll need to be the shrinkie." She sucked her teeth, as if to show extra sympathy after the disclaimer. 

"That's fine." Ann said, dead-set on playing the game, "How would I score?"

Jumping immediately back into presentation mode, the receptionist continued. "The Eater has a bit of a complex scoring system." She said, advancing the slide to show the model pushing her tray away from her, "So for The Eater to win a round, she has to eat as much food from the tray as possible and push the tray away WITHOUT having eaten the shrinkie. You get points based on the amount of food eaten, and bonus points if you can correctly guess which piece of food your partner is closest to." The receptionist took a deep breath, advancing the slide one last time. The slide was just a close-up of the model's parted lips with the tiny man dramatically posed inside. "If at any point The Eater swallows The Shrinkie," she continued nonchalantly as if the very concept wasn't shocking, "The Eater loses half her points, and it's game over. Other than that, a winner is chosen after three courses! Does that all sound good?"

Anthony seemed shocked, unlike his smiling partner. Ann had read extensively into the venue long before their date and was just excited to start. Anthony however, was entirely uninitiated. "She could actually end up swallowing me?!" He almost shouted, keeping his cool just enough to control his volume.

"It's perfectly safe." The receptionist explained, closing her slideshow and passively putting waivers on clipboards, "Our technology coats you with a substance that prevents her stomach from claiming you. She won't have to throw up or anything, She'll just feel a tickle in her throat later and you'll be back in her mouth the moment she coughs. It's safe enough that we have frequent customers who will swallow their Shrinkie post-game to celebrate. It takes a few hours for you to start growing again regardless, so why not have fun?"

"Okay then..." Anthony said skeptically, incredibly anxious about the entire endeavor. "What do you think?" He gestured to Ann.

"I think you better not get yourself eaten in round one. I'm gonna win." She smirked toward Anthony but held his hand gently, sensing his hesitation.

"Alright folks, just sign off these..." she handed each half of the couple a detailed waiver. "Just bring it back up when you're ready.

The couple proceeded to sign their papers, filling out the various boxes with all sorts of information before bringing it back to the receptionist. They took a moment to pay the admittance as well.

"Alrighty! Ann you may proceed into the restaurant on our left here, and Anthony, let's get you on her Tray!"

In the laboratory, the receptionist pulled a curtain back on a small booth. "Step into here please." she instructed, leading the nervous man into the contraption, "The procedure is easy." She began, right back in her obviously scripted presentation voice, warranting a slew of "Mmhmms" and "Okays" from her one-man audience, "I'm going to close the curtain and get things set up on the computer. Once it's closed, just undress and place your clothes on the shelf behind you. Then press the green 'ready' button. Once I have Ann's table entered into the system, the process will start. You'll be sprayed with the coating we talked about, and the machine will shrink you. Once you're small, you should see a tiny gown. Get it on and tie it. The machine will detect you once the gown is on and send you down the chute to the kitchen for preparation." 

Anthony did his best to collect the storm of information, nodding affirmatively as if his heart wasn't beating out of his chest. "You're sure this is safe?" He asked one more time.

The receptionist rolled her eyes. "It's safe. Just try to focus on winning the game." She began to close the curtain, but stopped half way. "Oh, and don't get yourself eaten. It's no fun if you follow the first fry to your girlfriend's stomach." With that sentiment, the curtain was dragged shut, and within seconds the machine whirred to life. "Remember to put on the gown!" The receptionist shouted from across the room as she activated the process, "Have fun!"

Many separate sounds merged to create a symphony of industrial noise, sprayers spraying, lights brightening, and a deep feeling of nausea subsiding only when the world was suddenly vast. 

Opening his eyes, Anthony quickly learned of his new size. The bottom hem of the curtain, something he was sure went all the way to the floor only a minute prior, was multiple stories high. The floor of the machine, the cramped little box he had been standing in, now expanded miles in every direction. By every estimation, he was irrefutably infinitesimal. 

Several minutes passed before Anthony shook off the incredible shock. At his feet was the small gown. He grabbed the garment and slid it over his head. It immediately lit up, and within seconds a tube rose from the floor, aiming itself in his direction. Before he could even gather what was happening, the tube roared with the unmistakable sound of a vacuum cleaner, pulling him off of his feet, and down the tube at mach speeds. 

The roars of the tube mixed ominously with the indistinct chatter of the outside world. Eventually, the tube had an end. He was dispensed onto a small tray, which to him, seemed to be a platform larger than most buildings. He first peered upward, reading a small tri-folded paper that had "Table Eight" written in a fancy cursive font. Anthony looked outward, finally getting a feel for just how small he was. 

Across the room, three women, each an obelisk to the heavens in comparison to him, were cooking in what seemed to be a very professional kitchen. Though several fryers might signify a more kicked-back diner, the brunt of the kitchen was the line in the center. Rows of stove top elements, the three women working stations and switching positions while causing the entire room to smell incredible. The three seemed entranced with their work, just as Anthony was entranced by watching them.

Not long after, a fourth woman came through the door, nodding affirmatively at the others before approaching the tray the tiny man stood upon. "Hello!" Her voice boomed. Her eyes focused on the speck far below her as she raised her hand, extending a single finger outward.

Her gesture was lost on the tiny man. He was too busy coming to terms with the idea that he was hardly taller than the woman's fingernail was thick. Looking up at her finger, he was certain that, were she to lower her hand, he'd be able to accurately walk along the lines of her fingerprint... Eventually though, he directed his attention to where she was pointing. On the back of the table number card was a small microphone and speaker, similar to an apartment complex intercom. He approached it, examining the similarly microscopic device. It had a "speak" button and a metal woven mesh, behind which, presumably, was the microphone.

"You can use that to speak with me." The waitress said with a pleasant smile.

Anthony brought a shaky hand to the button, depressing the switch and speaking. "Oh um... Hi..."

The tower giggled to herself, crouching down in front of the tray to be as eye-level as possible. "First time here, I'd imagine?" She asked. Anthony nodded. "Well try to shake those nerves off early, little guy." She continued, "I've seen a lot of anxious people try this, and freezing-up is a great way to lose the game and end up sharing a room with an appetizer! Just focus on finding your key and escaping. Try to keep in mind that your partner's goal is also to avoid eating you!"

Anthony was beyond anxious. His mind raced around all of the things that could happen. He pressed his button once more. "What my fiance... if... like... she chews me?" 

"I wouldn't worry about that." The waitresses brushed off, "your cells are smaller and tighter packed now, and believe it or not, you're more resilient. Failing that, you're also so small, you'd fit in the space of her molar crowns. The only real danger is carbonation. It can wear away at the coating that keeps you from being digested, hence why we don't serve soda here." Anthony was silent in response, though relieved as he knew that Ann hadn't had any soda prior to their visit either. "Any other questions little guy?" The waitress brought him back from his thoughts, "The food is almost ready."

"Hmm..." Anthony said as he pondered the question, eventually pressing the button again. "If you don't mind me asking... is every worker in the building a woman? That's all I've seen so far..."

The waitress thought briefly. "Well if you can keep a secret," she began, "most of us are on this shift, but there are several guys on the first shift. They all carpool with our head chef, Anne, but since Anne works different hours, and they're not supposed to hang around after their shifts, she shrinks and eats them for her lunch break. It's a win-win because she gets to feel full without eating much besides the ketchup she dips those guys in, which helps her lose weight, and the guys get a free ride home in return."

Anthony was dumbfounded. "Is it really so safe that everyone is perfectly happy with that arrangement?"

"I wouldn't say everyone is happy..." the waitress rolled her eyes, "Having to watch someone who cooks for a living bunch up six or seven guys and dunk her hand in ketchup... I could go my whole life without having to see or hear that again and be content... she makes them like a half-inch tall too, so it's quite a show." None of that calmed Anthony's nerves. Granted, the concept could've been funny or interesting, but given his size, fear overpowered everything else.

"The first course for table eight is ready." A voice called from across the room, "The key is in a pretty tough spot. Does this guy seem up to the task?"

Anthony reached for the speak button but was immediately interrupted. "He'll be fine!" the waitress called back joyously, casually pulling a miniature pair of tongs from her apron and grabbing the tiny man between them. She brought Anthony up to her face, looking closely at him. "Be brave little guy. I hope I see you advance to the main course!"

Swifty, the waitress brought the tongs to a surprisingly full tray of various foods. There were at least four different fried foods, what looked like buffalo wings, and even a small sushi platter. It would be far too much for a first course at any normal restaurant, but the scoring system gave some purpose to the layout. Anthony hardly had any time to mull over the options for where the key could be hiding before he was dropped into a small fryer-basket of fresh, crispy fries. He could feel the heat of the fresh cooked food burn his feet, but it wasn't bad. They must've let it cool, at least slightly. The scent, however... the world around him smelled unbelievably good. The fries were likely beer-battered, as a slight sweetness complimented the otherwise oily atmosphere. The basket itself had plenty of room for him to leave it, and through the slits he could see the bounty of food he'd be navigating. The world began shaking when the waitress brought the tray into the air, ready to be delivered.

The ceiling lights far above changed from bright-white fluorescent kitchen fixtures, to warm, dim dining room lighting emanating off of the rows of sconces lining the walls.

Ready or not, it was too late to turn back. Anthony was included in his fiance's meal, and if he wasn't careful, it would be easy for her to grab a few fries at once and end his challenge before it even really started. He did his best to steady his breathing, surveying the different foods for possible key locations. Eventually, he settled on where he would check first when the challenge starts: a small mountain of crab rangoon, the very base of which hosting a wonton wrapper that was slightly open. This was common for cooked crab rangoon of course, but it was certainly a great spot for a key, and close enough to his current location. 

"Hi, how are you?" The waitress spoke as she approached Ann's table. Her voice sounded much more professional, as though she had been using a childish inflection when speaking to Anthony earlier, for which he was a bit insulted. "I'm Wendy, I'll be your server today."

Ann brought her hand up, giving a slight wave. "Hey." She smiled. "Is this ALL for me?" Oddly enough, it hadn't even occurred to Anthony just how much food was on the tray. For a single course, it was an absolute buffet in every sense of the word.

The waitress nodded. "You'd be surprised how easy it is to eat it all. Our head chef is certainly not one to disappoint." As she spoke, she brought a tall glass of lemonade down onto the table. "Alright, your fiance is somewhere in this spread! Remember, you get points based on how much food you eat before you hit the buzzer over here." She motioned to a small clock, at the bottom of which was a small terminal containing the keyhole too. "Your time starts when I put the tray down, but I should let you know: we don't drop guests into drinks, we don't stop you if you begin eating him, only after he hits your stomach, and lastly, that he's very small. We've never had an Eater find their Shrinkie while the clock is running. Any questions?"

Ann seemed almost overly-excited. Whether it was the food, or the competition, she was smiling ear to ear. "Just one. What happens if I eat the key?"

The waitress quickly gave her answer, more than likely a question she hears a lot. "In most cases, that stops the Shrinkie from being capable of winning the round, but the key is coated in a similar substance to the Shrinkies themselves, so you won't actually swallow it, at least not fully, and it's so small you won't feel it. A very competitive couple we have who come in here quite often actually had this happen, and amazingly, the husband climbed onto her next bite, got into her mouth, and then escaped with the key before she swallowed. It's incredibly unlikely, but now we know it's possible!"

"Woah!" Ann responded gleefully, "That sounds like so much fun! I'm ready to eat now for sure." Her mouth was practically watering at the scent of the food alone, and the idea of her fiance having to get the key from inside her mouth sounded so exciting and dangerous. 

Without further discussion, the tray was placed gently on the table before Ann, the waitress smiling and giving a quick "Good luck!" before she returned to the kitchen.

Anthony's point of view was breathtaking. His fry basket was on the closest side to the giantess, and she was truly something to behold. He could see her eyes survey her food as she decided what to eat first, her mind not the least bit occupied with her grain-of-salt-sized man. Eventually she settled on the wings across the tray, taking a massive fork and stabbing one.

Taking one more deep breath, Anthony decided to make his move. He slid through the fry basket, immediately noticing the genius in the design of the restaurant. Not only was the room so dim that he'd be invisible, but the paper tray liner had a busy pattern on it with tons of colors and patterns, ensuring that he was unseeable, even while moving. He dashed at top speed to the rangoon, approaching a single piece that was no less than a few hundred times his size. He began to climb into the open slit, eventually tumbling into the hot pool of cream cheese and onion. He managed to catch himself before getting completely covered, but after digging through the mixture a bit, he was pretty much coated. There was no key to be found.

In the distance, a loud crunch boomed through the air. Immediately Anthony realized she must have moved past the wings and onto some fried food. He pulled himself from the wonton wrapper and shot a glance up to his fiance, who was currently holding half a rangoon. It certainly wasn't lost on him that he could've been inside that one, and he shivered with anxiety. Time was of the essence though, and he wasn't going to wait around and get consumed. 

The next destination was the sushi platter. Any one piece could easily hold the key in place, and once he arrived, he began climbing the rice of the furthest one from the giantess. Once atop the decorated roll, he slowly walked along the top of each piece, closely inspecting the identical fillings looking for the sparkle of the key. Eventually he reached the last piece and began to turn around to check the next row. 

Before he could, his world was shaken. Having been so focused on looking for the key, he hasn't even noticed the chopsticks grabbing the platform on which he stood. Having no choice as the chopsticks zoomed toward the hungry mouth of the giantess, he dove off the sushi piece, smacking into the tray below hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Far above, Ann happily chewed her food and swallowed, entirely oblivious to what she almost just did. 

Anthony scrambled to his feet, running to the nearest plate. His new position was a large stack of mozzarella sticks, all piled neatly atop each other like firewood. Trying to focus on the task at hand, (or, at the very least, on anything other than the nonchalance of his fiance's consumption,) he spotted another potential hiding spot for the key. High atop the pile, a single mozzarella stick had a broken end, the filling pouring out to a cooled and solidified blob. The woman in the kitchen said it would be difficult, and this certainly fit the bill.

Gathering his courage, the tiny man began his mission up the fried mountain. He used the ridged edges of each piece to climb, finally stopping on the third stick up, running out of breath. He stretched and looked upward. Still two huge pieces to go... He sighed and threw himself onto his back to rest for a moment before continuing. As his back hit the crispy surface of the mozzarella stick though, the breaded coating cracked, a fracture heading down toward his legs where the stick broke, his legs each plunging down into the molten cheese. "Oh fuck!" He exclaimed, trying to pull away. His small size was nothing compared to the thickness of the filling, and with every attempt to pull away, he was dragged deeper, very quickly resulting in entrapment up to his chest. Before long, he was unable to free his arms, until finally, he was entirely engulfed.

Several minutes passed with muffled crunching and dragging noises emanating from outside the shrunken man's prison. He knew where he would be headed. He was inside one of Ann's favorite foods, and only third from the top. She was going to eat him.

Not long after, movement finally found Anthony's new abode, and though his heart was beating out of control, he had readied himself inside the now-cooled cheese stick. He winced as he felt the food item move, and again when it changed direction. Quickly, the world around him was shattered, a ear-bursting crunch echoing from only a few feet away. Suddenly, light poured in over the captured tiny, and what was before a mystery showed itself. Ann's colossal white teeth pulled at one end of the mozzarella stick while the cheese stretched from the other side! Anthony was much closer to her mouth than the opposing side, and the point of least resistance in the middle was thinning. By some sheer luck, Ann bit the bridge with her teeth, letting free the stretched cheese and quickly dropping Anthony downward. As much of a relief as it was, he was still just her next bite.

Scenery didn't stay the same long. The incredible wall of smiling, chewing lips that seemed infinite like the horizon, suddenly flew away as the snack was plunged downward. The dim lights of the dining room tinted red before drowning to black as the distinct scent of marinara replaced every other stimuli. 

After just a few dizzying spins in the dipping sauce, light found Anthony once again, her hand rapidly pulling the next bite out and upward, the jostling movement, (mixed with the water from the sauce,) causing the tiny man to finally fall free of the cheese, leaving him behind. Anthony surfaced in the small black cup, wiping his eyes before watching the place he most recently inhabited get nonchalantly eaten. 

Anthony swam in the marinara sauce for several more minutes before the next stick descended from the heavens. The obelisk of fried deliciousness smashed into the ocean of sauce, getting generously coated. Though it narrowly missed Anthony, he was quickly scooped up by the backstroke, and within less than a second, found himself in a free-fall back into the cup as he was carried by an accidental drip. 

Ann continued eating happily, having almost forgotten there was a human being somewhere in her food, and totally unaware of the terror she caused the little speck. The thought eventually did cross her mind, and she scanned the tray, curious if her husband-to-be had already met her stomach. She saw nothing of course, but shrugged it off and kept eating. How couldn't she after all? Everything was perfect.

Having fallen so far, Anthony was much deeper in the dipping sauce than he had been even upon his original plunge. He knew he needed to swim up and swiftly kicked his feet off what seemed like the bottom of the cup, but he didn't move. He took an extra second to feel beneath him before eventually surfacing. The hard object he had kicked was now in his hand... The key!

His mission was now clear. The tiny man had everything he needed except a way out of the dipping sauce. He cautiously waited for the hungry goddess in the sky to dip her next piece, and upon its descent, grabbed hold. He grinned at his own strategy and prepared himself to jump the moment he could see over the edge. Plans, however, don't always reach fruition, and that very same goddess scooped more sauce than intended, and brought her head down, stuffing the end into her mouth as fast as possible to avoid dripping. 

Anthony yelped as the horrific crunch bellowed through the air, followed by many more blood-curdling chewing sounds. He could barely stand to look, but when he finally opened his eyes, he wasn't in her mouth. He was stuck, in a glob of marinara, to the mile-wide bottom lip of his fiance. 

Ann, giggling at her own eating, rolled her eyes as the tasty sauce clung to her face. She subconsciously knew what came next, and was already grabbing the last mozzarella stick by the time her tongue escaped her lips to capture the extra sauce. She stopped however, when her tongue made the mistake of pushing the sauce down to her chin.

Anthony's breathing got heavy. One moment he was nearly eaten whole, the next a muscle the size of a building hits him like a truck, forcing his whole atmosphere to fall, and finally, a white wall, like a car's dust cover, smashed into him, grinding his back against the face of his own fiance before retracting and dropping far below.

It wasn't long until he oriented himself once more and realized the best truth he could: The napkin that carried him was mere yards from the keyhole, and he hadn't dropped the key. He didn't hesitate. Without so much as a moment to catch his breath, he exhausted himself fully, reaching the keyhole and activating his win. He had escaped and somehow won the first round!

Gripping the metal key still, Anthony smiled past his fast-beating heart. As terrifying as the experience had been so far, he had not only survived, but scored points against an "adversary" who was millions of times his size. He almost felt like gloating, were she not still just as capable of eating him. 

Not long after, the waitress returned. She smiled down at the tiny man. "Congratulations!" her voice boomed, "Your time was nine minutes and fifty-three seconds, giving you six hundred and seven points!"

Ann, listening to the explanation toward her table, dropped the sushi she was still working on, leaning closely to the same spot, her eyes finally spotting the celebratory speck. "What?" She nearly shouted.

"One moment." The waitress interrupted, continuing her speech, "That's one point for every second under twenty minutes. You also get the bonus five points for your win, and another bonus for a close-call! In this case, you were never in her mouth, but her tongue did touch you, so just another five points this time!" All of this information was new to Ann. Finally, the waitress turned to her. "I hope you enjoyed your first course." She bowed, afterwards taking the tray in her hands. "Will you be continuing the game?"

Ann tilted her head. "What do you mean? Like continuing to the next round?"

The waitress nodded. "You'd be surprised how often we have couples play round one, then The Eater requests to forfeit the challenge by eating their partner immediately. Happens so often that we ask now, and we'll even box up your leftover appetizers." This option wasn't exactly popular with the tiny man standing on the raised tray, looking his colossal fiance in the face.

"Hmm..." Ann pondered, directing her gaze to the speck on the tray, "I doubt I'll get through all three courses... but I think I'll just be sure to eat him in the main course." She smiled, ensuring she showed her teeth. 

"Alright," the waitress began, continuing to clear the table, "Just to let you know, we are required to still include a key somewhere in the dish to give him a chance, and of course we will stop you and end your game the second he drops into your stomach, as we normally do during gameplay."

Ann nodded. "Sounds good."

The waitress gave a slight smile and turned on her heel, heading through the kitchen door once again.

Anthony was half-blinded once again by the fluorescent lights of the kitchen. He stood anxiously as the world around him moved before he was plucked off the tray by two giant fingers. The waitress gripped him in her hand, nonchalantly dropping him into a small tube near the preparation area at which he had first seen the kitchen.

As he fell through the tube, jets of hot, soapy water blasted the tiny man. It was like being pulled through a car wash at the speed of sound. He was hit with tons of different hoses, as well as loud dryers, before the mechanism finally spit him back onto the tray with the large plastic table number. Off in the distance, two voices shouted at each other, but the exact argument was too muffled to make out.

Eventually the waitress approached once again. "So, what did you think of round one?" She crouched so slightly, it was almost comical how far above him she still stood. 

Anthony ran to the back of the plastic card to find the speaker once again, depressing the small button to speak. "It was terrifying..." he began, pausing for a second "but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't fun." The waitress cracked a smile before turning as the distant yelling grew louder, a male voice and a female voice competing in volume.. Anthony pressed his button again. "What's going on?" He asked. 

The massive figure shook her head, turning back to the tiny man below to answer. "Well, when a customer comes in alone, we rarely have another line customer for them to play with, so lone men get shrunken down and play three rounds in the meals of whichever waitress is up for it, but with lone women, we need to get one of the guys who works in the back to jump in her dinner. Well, the only guy on staff right now is Jacob, and he's just mad because the last lady who he played with kinda screwed him over." 

"What do you mean?" Anthony asked slowly, trying to listen over the muffled yelling.

The waitress rolled her eyes. "You know how I told you the shrinking is timed? Well the last woman he played with grabbed him in like... her second bite. Now normally if one of our guys gets eaten, they get brought back up as always, and just need to call a cab home from the Eater's house. Being brought back up takes around an hour, and then another couple hours to get to full size again. Easy enough. This lady though... She ate Jacob and then caught a plane. She didn't seem to understand the situation either, so while boarding, he was in her mouth again, ready to leave and she just swallowed again. She flew across the country, swallowing him over and over until he finally got out of her body when she fell asleep in her hotel room. I'm not sure if she just didn't pay attention during our presentation, or if she had bad intentions, but either way, it was a huge hassle to get home, so Jacob doesn't want to play the game anymore."

"Wow that's--" Anthony started, interrupted suddenly by the door being slammed open. The yelling had since gone entirely silent. 

From the doorway, a flustered woman in the waitress get-up entered, immediately stomping her way to the post-shrink trays. Raising her arms up, she quickly unscrewed the cap to a bottle of diet soda, putting the spout under the tube of the tray next to Anthony's.

"May!" Anthony's waitress shouted, grabbing the soda bottle away from her.

The other waitress snickered. "Oh come on, it's a joke... even if he really deserves it." Seconds later, a small man fell forth from the same tube, May catching him between her fingers. "Welcome back!" She said sarcastically to the man in her hand, "I'm guessing you're done yelling?" She scoffed and dropped the man back onto his tray. She turned her head, speaking up toward the cooks. "What's the ETA on the first course for mr. mouth-off here?"

The stoic main chef turned her head, glaring angrily at the sassy waitress. "The customer called ahead. It'll be at least an hour and a half." Seeing the smile on the waitress' face, the chef took a step toward her. "You're not eating him in the meantime."

"Oh come on." May said once again, "Didn't you hear how he spoke to me?" Indignance filled her voice. 

"Actually..." the chef stepped closer again, a low growl filling her quiet voice, "I heard both of you. All of us heard you, including other customers. I have half a mind to shrink you as well, and drop the two of you under my boot."

May was unimpressed. "Well isn't it so sad that you can't just shrink a woman then?" Her smug tone only served to worsen the oncoming storm.

"Really now?" The chef growled, taking another step closer, practically standing on the toes of her opposition, "So it never occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, the women who started this company just preferred the roles to be this way? It never occurred that maybe a company that hires almost entirely women and only uses men as back-up food might just make up a reason why it has to be that way?"

May didn't break eye contact. "You don't scare me. You're not much more than a bus service for specks." She motioned to the chef's stomach, undoubtedly filled to the brim with coworkers needing a ride, "You can act all tough and pretend you're able to shrink me, or that you could hurt me once you do, but I'm not buying it."

The chef smiled. "Interesting. So you really want to call my bluff?" 

May scoffed. "I don't need to. I've seen how it just shuts off when a woman stands in it. We all have. It's something you try on day one."

Her smile widened. "Alright then, why don't you show me?" The chef turned on her heel and, alongside the waitress, made her way through the same doors she had entered from.

"Huh." Anthony finally said, breaking the awkward silence among the rest of the kitchen dwellers. "Do you really think..."

High above, the remaining waitress interrupted. "Carrie is basically a veteran here. If anyone had special admin access to the shrinking booths, it would be her..."

"Does this... happen a lot?" Anthony asked, feeling terribly out-of-place.

"May has to butt heads with everyone." The waitress rolled her eyes, "She's usually smart enough to avoid pissing off the kitchen staff though..."

After a moment, Carrie returned alone, picking up May's soda bottle in one hand, and the shrunken Jacob in the other. She dropped the tiny man inside and held the spout under the shrinkie tube, eventually seeing a second splash in the bottle. "Guess I wasn't bluffing" she said toward the bottle, lightly swirling it in circles, "Now here's the deal. You're both fired." Without another thought, the woman threw back the bottle, swallowing the contents in a series of fast gulps. When she finished, she stepped over to the same tube Anthony had been sent through and spit, the shrunken May and Jacob landing on the tray again once cleaned. "Well little ones, I hope you're prepared for a full digestion, because the customer will be getting one."

May scrambled to her feet, breathing rapidly as she ran to her table card, pressing the button and yelling, "You bitch! How could you do this?!"

Carrie approached the tray, not leaning forward as Anthony's waitress had, but instead lording high over her victims. "I will not tolerate fighting like that in my kitchen. You're lucky I don't drop you both into the fryer."

May was shoved away as Jacob forced his way to the microphone. "Carrie! What about the guys in your stomach already?! You just drank soda!"

The chef's face didn't even flinch. "Perhaps you should've considered them before embarrassing us all in front of paying customers."

"Chef." One of the silent cooking women called, "The customer called. Her plans have changed and she asked for take-out. I've prepared her meal." The girl presented a set of take-out boxes, each containing a myriad of fresh hot foods. 

Carrie smiled, scooping the two former employees up between her fingers. She found an open crab rangoon and dropped Jacob inside, massaging the side to ensure the appetizer consumed him fully before closing the take-out box lid. Her attention turned to May. "You're going to get a little extra time to think about what you've done." She said before plucking the stem from a cherry atop a slice of chocolate cake. She dropped the tiny girl inside and pressed her body into the berry by replacing the stem.

The containers were loaded into a bag and the remaining waitress carried it off. Upon returning, she addressed the pleased chef. "What are you going to do about the guys in your stomach? You can't really digest them, right?"

Carrie smiled. "The soda was flat, and there wasn't a lot left. Nobody is actually getting digested. You'd need a fresh soda for that. Really strong carbonation." The chef returned to her station.

"But..." the waitress hesitated. "Why bother going through all that trouble? To scare them?" Anthony was thinking the same thing.

Washing her hands, Carrie sighed. "Those two do nothing but bicker. If I'm going to fire them, they deserve a little scare on the way out. What better scare than thinking someone who doesn't know you exist is about to have you for dinner?"

"Aren't you worried..." Anthony spoke up through his speaker, "That a customer might testify against you if they sue?" 

The waitress shot a glance at the tiny man as if to say "don't get involved."

Carrie kneeled, her head level with the tray. "Every person we shrink signs a waiver, and it's pretty extensive." The cook said, her head tilted threateningly over the tiny man, "Everything from injuries, being served to the wrong table..." She was counting childishly on her fingers. "Or even if a particularly loose-lipped shrinkie gets... lost in the kitchen."

"What... are you saying?" Anthony muttered, taking a step back after releasing his speaker. 

She continued. "See the girl at the end of the line?" She pointed to the farthest cook, a short plump girl in her mid-twenties. "She loves the waiver." Carrie teased, causing the short girl's face to flush with shame, "Kitty there got a bit playful with one of the customers and accidently dropped him into scorching-hot soup she was making. He was alone, but obviously she couldn't serve a burned and injured man to the restaurant, so she let him cook and ate him herself." The head chef's smile got devious. "But Kitty didn't expect how good a cooked shrinkie would taste... We had to take her off the main lines and banish her to the dish room when we found out how many boyfriends met a similar fate..." By this point in her story, 'Kitty' had returned to her cave of solitude, upset. "Long story short, little guy, it's probably best that you keep your mouth shut before we have to tell your girlfriend that you tripped, fell, and landed in the soup of the day."

Anthony was afraid, but couldn't break the feeling that he could easily reveal this all anyway when he's full-sized again. He didn't take kindly to threats, even from a figure large enough to inhale him. He nodded and stepped back.

Carrie chuckled. "It's all part of the experience, little guy. Come here, get scared, go home. This is all just theatrics." The chef walked away.

Anthony was taken aback. After all he had seen, was she calling it an act? Was she just covering her ass? He pressed his speak button, shouting at the back of the tower traveling what seemed like miles away from him. "What the hell does that mean?" 

"It means you aren't actually going down the dishwasher's throat." Carrie called back, "It was all something to get your heart racing for the next round."

He was not convinced. "Everything? Everything that you've done was acting?"

The second chef, leaning back behind Carrie, ignored him. "The main course for table eight is ready."

Before Anthony could continue his interrogation, he was pinched between the small tongs he had been scooped with in the first round before suddenly being pushed deep into a yellowish sauce, a scorching pool of thick cheese. Everything was muffled as the tray was hoisted into the air. "Carrie, you're ridiculous." The waitress said, exiting back into the dining area.