Detective Sergeant Toby Swofford, age 57, was just about to clock out, at the end of his shift, when his partner--Officer Josephine Blackurn--came running down the hall.
"Hey! Sarge! Wait up a minute."
Swofford groaned: "Oh, no! Don't tell me..."
She nodded: "Dispatch has been flooded with cellphone calls from the Retroplex. Some kind of trouble over there."
"What kind of trouble?"
"Initially, a drunken brawl. Now, a full-scale riot. One caller claimed the place had been attacked by a fifty-foot woman!"
Swofford shook his head: "Couldn't the pre-Halloween pranksters have at least waited till Monday? OK, Jo! You drive. I'll radio for back-up, en route."
When they arrived at the drive-in, however, Swofford's mood went from sullenly half-interested to outright flabbergasted.
"What the frig...?"
Up on the giant silver screen were what looked like five Egyptian mummies. Not the bandaged-up zombie kind, usually depicted in old monster-movies, this time of year. But, the stationary kind usually seen in National Geographic documentaries.
Only these particular five were not being very stationary. They were screaming to be brought down to the ground, as they were quite literally stuck _on_ the screen. Like flies on flypaper!
* * * * *
NINE MINUTES EARLIER
"Let him up," growled the semi-giant Amazon.
"S-S-Sandy?" stuttered Wes.
The latter smiled: "You still remember me, after two years of screwing every other girl on campus? How flattering! But, enough talk. Do as I told you and let...him...UP!"
Michael's captors needed no further urging. As soon as Michael had regained his feet, and brushed himself off, he looked at his girlfriend.
"Uhm! Sandy? Not to seem ungrateful, or anything. But, how...?"
"I'll explain later. After I teach these jerks some much-needed manners."
After expanding her height to fifty-feet tall, and destroying what was left of the ladies' room roof, Sandy grabbed up all five of Michael's attackers. She then stripped off all their clothes before wrapping them up, head-to-foot, in every spare roll of two-ply toilet tissue she could find. When that had been accomplished, she put each pseudo-mummy in her mouth; rolled him around in her saliva; and then spit him back out in the direction of the movie screen.
Wes and the Four Stooges had been turned into human loogies!
Nodding in satisfaction at her accuracy, she looked down at Michael, before picking him up in her arms, and running off into the night.
Ten minutes afterward, the police showed up.
* * * * *
Sandy did not stop running until she had reached the Goodson Fairgrounds. The preparations for the annual Halloween Carnival were under way. But, there was no one working overtime, tonight. The young couple had the immediate environment all to themselves.
Michael was lowered to the ground, from where Sandy had carried him under her left arm's elbow. She then shrank down to her normal height. Revealing, in the process, that she had been carrying her street clothes in the palm of her right hand.
"I suppose you want that explanation, now," she asked, (semi-rhetorically) as soon as she had finished dressing. And, naturally, he nodded. So, she extended her right hand.
"See this jade ring? It was given to me by my grandfather for my thirteenth birthday. You remember Grandpa Doug, right?"
Michael nodded again. Dr. Douglas Bigelow, the world-famous archeologist, was the one who had helped the Smith family get their jobs at Goodson Academy in the first place!
"Well, Grandpa Doug got this from a Huichol Indian shamaness down in Mazatlan, Mexico. It seems that some local fisherman had 'over-celebrated' returning to port with a big catch. And, when they tried to make this thirteen year-old girl, selling flowers in the cantina, join in their 'celebration,' Grandpa Doug came to her aid with some pepper spray!"
The young flower vendor turned out to be the shamaness' granddaughter. And, she had given the ring to Dr. Bigelow in gratitude. Claiming that the ring had previously been worn by the Huichol fertility goddess, Great-grandmother Growth, herself.
"Grandpa Doug didn't want to hurt her feelings. So, he accepted the gift and passed it on to me. Two weeks later, in seventh grade science class, I had to go to the bathroom. Getting permission from the teacher, I waited until I was out of the room before I went racing down the stairs and into the lav. Unfortunately, I ran into a bunch of eighth-grade cheerleaders who were smoking pot! They thought I had run into them on purpose, and started pushing and shoving me. The next thing I know? We're all in the principal's office. The cheerleaders; with bloody noses. And, me? With torn clothes I don't remember tearing!"
Two of the cheerleaders turned out to have over-protective boyfriends on the football team. And, when they tried to avenge their girlfriends' "honor," history only seemed to repeat itself. In their case? They were found tied to the middle school's flagpole.
Ten feet off the ground!
"Hmmmmm!" mused Michael: "Seems like your first two uses of that magic ring were subconscious. Resulting in Lou Ferrigno-style 'Hulk-outs.' "
"Exactly!" replied Sandy: "Boy! You sure are taking this a lot more calmly than I thought you would."
"Well, I have a confession to make," he began. Only to be cut off by a rather weak-sounding outcry.
"L-L-Landor!"
Michael and Sandy turned to their left, and beheld the oddest thing they had yet seen that night. A man was staggering toward them. A man dressed in what resembled a white tank top with matching trunks and cape. But, even more astounding to Sandy was the color of the man's pigmentation.
Every inch of his skin--from his bald head to his sandaled toes--was a very bright shade of blue!
tbc
Giantess World
Author's Chapter Notes:
POLICE HEADQUARTERS,
GOODSON, CONNECTICUT
(9:49 P.M./EST)
GOODSON, CONNECTICUT
(9:49 P.M./EST)