Clint put on the striped panties, the short dress with a heart-shaped boob window, long black socks, an arpon, and finally a pair of flats.  The cheap material itched all over.  He wished Adam had picked a more comfortable set.  He also picked up a bucket and mop, though he had no idea what he was going to be expected to do with it.

While two or three of Adam’s victims had also put on their outfits, the other shrunken men had gone into a wild panic. Adam went over to his duffle bags and pulled a roll of athletic tape and a tupperware container.  Walking lazily over to one group of bullies that hadn’t managed to spread out, he plucked a few up and placed them in the container.  As he returned, Clint recognized Bruce, Michael, and Sean banging on the plastic walls.

Adam sat back down on the bench and presented his feet for the miniature group of maids.  He playfully wiggled his toes as the remains of Dan glistened on the bottom of his left foot.  He looked down at the pathetic little creatures and smirked.

“Go ahead, worms.  Make sure to get them extra clean.  I would hate to have you all end up like Sean.”

He plucked Sean from the plastic container.  As Sean rose higher and higher, he started bellowing at the top of his lungs, but he was so far away from the tiny maid boys below that they had no hope of hearing what he was saying.

“Awww, what cute little squeaks!  Now pay attention, little bugs.  And that doesn’t just apply to the puny guys at my feet.  I’m giving each and every little guy here a chance to come back and start mopping up the mess Dan made on my foot.  But not for you Sean.  I already gave you a chance.  I could give you a second chance, like I’m giving everybody else, but I don’t feel like it.  Instead, I want to show you exactly what those purple nurples you gave me the other day felt like.”

Adam pressed the pad of his thumb against the shrunken jock’s chest and started twisting as the flesh peeled from his chest.  The maids couldn’t tell what he was saying before, but his screams certainly caught their attention.  Clint made a beeline for Adam’s right foot.  He figured that cleaning the right foot would at least mean he wouldn’t have to look at the crimson puddle that used to be a human being as he worked.

The loud, almost primal, howls were diminished little by little until the boys bellow couldn’t hear anymore.  But Adam could still hear the sound of him whimpering.  He could still hear the squishing sound underneath his thumb.  He could still feel the beating of Sean’s heart as it sped up in the initial panic, slowed down as he ran out of energy to fight the pain, and eventually stopped as Sean breathed his last breath.

Adam dropped Sean’s body on the floor.  Where his chest used to be, a gaping hole was left so deep that a person could see the spine in his back from the front.  A few of the maid boys turned around, transfixed by the gory mess made out of their compatriot.  But Clint didn’t look back at Sean.  Instead, he desperately scrubbed at Adam’s foot.  One of the maids couldn’t take the sight and ran screaming.  A few of the guys that had attempted to run earlier and had no luck getting away turned to the cruel behemoth as their last hope of escape.  They hoped that if they ingratiate themselves to Adam, that he may show mercy.  Or if not that, at least a delay in whatever cruel, unusual death he had in store for them.

Clint was joined in his scrubbing by a few more of his friends.  Harold, Hank, and himself had taken to scrubbing the right foot, while a team of five were busy at work on the other foot.  They attempted to scrub away the mess underneath like their lives depended on it, because in all probability, it did.

As they scrubbed, Clint noticed that the giant was getting a perverse sense of giddiness from the situation he had placed them all in.  His hand was down the front of his shorts as the outline of the back of his hand stretching against the fabric of the shorts left no illusion as to what Adam was doing.  Clint thought he was a gross freak, but wouldn’t dare to say such a thing to the monster’s face.  Dan would have, but that was the reason Dan was a corpse.  Clint knew from years of being bullied himself as a young child that standing up against bullies would only get you beaten and bruised.  The only reason he had been part of Dan’s group for so long was that he knew how to suck up to power.  

But what were a few bullies in the face of a god?  Clint knew where his allegiance had to lie if he wanted to survive.  And so he debased himself in front of the arrogant nerd until the right foot lifted away and Adam peeked at his sole, and then repeated the process for the left foot.  Then he looked down at the maids cleaning his left foot.

“Is this really the best you fuckers could do?  Look, there’s still blood on the ball of this sole.  The other guys did far better.  See, not even a single drop!”

The miniscule maids would have objected that the ball was far too high up for them to reach, that they weren’t given adequate time, and that the right foot didn’t even have blood on it, but Adam couldn’t hear them, nor would he care.  For all their screaming and begging and excuse making, the former bullies were all crushed under Adam’s left foot as the trio under his right sole trembled in their frilly dresses.  A dark spot developed in the front of Adam’s shorts.

“Looks like you three have some more cleaning to do!”