"You hear the news?"
"News? About what?"
"Big Red's not gonna be able to do his rounds tonight."
"Wh-Are you serious? The man only works one night a year!"
"I know, but he had some bad Kim Chi last night, left him with food poisoning"
"Really? What a fat, lazy, piece of-"
"Yeah, I know. Thing is, he's apparently gonna outsource the job this year!"
"Outsource? Who is crazy enough to-"
The conversation was ended abruptly by a pounding on the front door. The workshop never got visitors, nobody was even sure why they had a front door in the first place.
"You gonna get that?"
"No."
The pounding resumed, louder this time. Whatever was outside seemed rather impatient, and wasn't in the mood to wait.
"Fine, I'll go answer it."
The short little man walked to the front door of the workshop, and, with the use of a chair nearby, was able to reach the doorknob to open it. No sooner had he nudged the door open, that whatever was outside forced its way inside, knocking him to the floor.
"Took you assholes long enough!" A tall, tanned woman in a bikini shouted, before blowing a bubble in her chewing gum.
"Are you the new transporter?" The short man shouted up, while standing to his feet again and dusting himself off. The first thing he noticed, aside from her exceedingly unusual state of dress, was how abnormally tall the woman was. He wasn't tall, what with being an elf and all, but she looked like she'd put even the big man to shame.
"The what now?" She asked, looking around the workshop. "This a nice place, I didn't know Charlie was so rich he could hire midgets!" she laughed, stepping over the short man.
"We're not midgets! We're..." he began, realizing the truth would be far more unbelievable. "Wait who's Charlie?" he asked, curious.
"Charlie. You know, big guy. Beard. Likes to wear red. Has a funny laugh?" She asked, blowing another bubble.
"She's talkin about the fat man!" Another elf shouted from a nearby room before laughing. "Oh, Charlie, that's a new one!" he continued.
The short elf standing with the scantily clad woman began to piece everything together, and sighed with disappointment. Santa Claus, as he preferred to be called, had grown to be quite lonely in the last hundred or so years, and had taken to spending most of his time that wasn't Christmas day, on traveling the rest of the world, and trying to get dates. His exploits had a small degree of success, with most of the women looking rather sleazy, and some looking like he paid them to spend time with him.
This woman looked to be in the latter category.
"I can't believe this shi-Do you even know he brought you here for?" The elf asked, his face in his palm.
"Said he'd pay me to deliver something for him. Said he was too sick to do it. What's it to you shorty?" She asked, pressing her tremendous foot into the little elf and knocking him over with her toes.
A voice came on over a loudspeaker in the room. The man's voice sounded sick, and was straind in what it was trying to say.
"Monica, I've been told you just arrived! I don't know if you remember, but we got married, all those months ago." The voice said, as if recalling a fond memory, before breaking into another fit of coughs.
"I 'memmer!" She shouted back, though she didn't know where to direct it. She'd met the old man in Vegas one night, and convinced him to marry her in exchange for a thousand bucks. They did so, and she figured it would be a waste to try and annul the marriage, so kept up by never contacting her husband again.
"Right!" The voice came back on abruptly. "So, using the magic of the holidays, I brought you here with me tonight! And-" He explained, before the sound of violent vomiting came over the speakers. "Ahem. I made your body immune, and gave you a few special powers, so you can complete the job! As my wife, I'm sure you can handle the task!
To her credit, Monica seemed to be taking everything he was explaining in stride. Some of the elves suspected Santa to take advantage of mind manipulation to get things done, but there was never any proof of it. The much more likely explanation was that she simply wasn't all there, or wasn't a smart individual to begin with.
"You've got until morning to complete the job! Thank you very much!"
Suddenly, a large, hefty bag appeared out of nowhere, plopping into existence next to Monica's feet. Though every one of the elves expected more questions, she simply dragged the sack with her as she headed back outside, shutting the door behind her.
"What is going on here?" One elf asked.
"The old man's lost his mind. This can only end badly." The elf who'd answered the door replied.
Immediately after receiving the instructions, Monica found her mind filled with a vast amount of knowledge, and she was aware of what she needed to do. Deliver a present to every home in the world, before morning. It would be an easy task though, considering the suite of powers for which she'd just been given access.
The cold snow didn't affect her much, and as soon as she stepped outside, she used what seemed to her like the most useful of abilities, growth. Her body stretched high into the sky, stopping just shy of a thousand feet tall.
Then, with great purpose in her strides, she took her first step south, working on the long trip ahead of her. She knew the sack would refill with gifts as they were depleted, and set herself into a bit of a trance, to make herself as efficient as possible.
She reached her first city quickly, and strode through it, her powerful footfalls bringing down many small homes. Monica's mind didn't care about this though, it only cared that she delivered the gifts to the right locations. Houses were crushed, only to have a handful of tiny presents drift down in the exact spot where their chimneys had once been.
If it wasn't a home, it didn't matter. Huge skyscrapers were simply walked through, her body ignoring them completely as she continued on her path of destruction. Worst of all, she was moving quite fast, as one would be expected to, given that the deliveries had to take place in one night. This meant she was almost impossible to avoid, as her huge toes ripped up giant swaths of land, leaving nothing in their wake.
This continued from city to city, leaving behind nothing but smoldering wreckage, and broken dreams. Small homes out in the country had miles of land around them filled with the giantess's footprints, but were mostly able to escape the damage themselves.
Other than the almost complete destruction of every city she visited, the deliveries were going great. Gifts floated from the heavens slowly, almost serene among the scenes of burning wreckage and lost lives.
One boy was walking home from a store, clutching a pair of women's shoes. His mother was sick, and he was worried that would be the last gift he could give her. He clutched them tightly to his chest, walking to the hospital alone, when he felt the rumbling of the ground.
Turning, he had less than a moment to react when the giant, dirty sole of Monica's bare foot came down on him, and crushed him with it's immense softness. He exploded into her flesh, and was nothing more than a stain on the sidewalk, as she continued to make her deliveries.
Finally, minutes before the sun would rise in the final time zone, she delivered her last present. Making a beeline to to the North Pole, her feet left dirty footprints in the snow, befouling the otherwise clean, white landscape.
She'd forced herself into a sort of hypnotic trance, so she could be as efficient as possible during her deliveries, but now that she was back in the North Pole, Monica had snapped out of it. She felt proud of herself, knowing the work she did was helpful for humanity, and couldn't believe that THE Santa Claus had selected her for such a task. Once she was just a street walker, now she was the deliverer of Christmas. She'd have to ask him if she could do this again some year, or at least help him. Maybe the two of them together could-
Monica stopped, feeling a very different crunch under her sole. She was used to the sound and feel of snow underfoot, but this felt far more solid.
Checking the bottom of her foot, she gasped. Wriggling her toes, she could see the remains of the great workshop, that Santa was always so proud of, crushed into splinters and sticking to her sole.
"I can't believe this shit. I accidentally killed an innocent man, on Christmas!" She shouted, angry at herself.
Giantess World
Author's Chapter Notes:
Santa's feeling pretty terrible, so he decides to give the job of delivering presents to someone else this year. This other person goes through things a bit differently than he normally does though.