All is quiet. The group members are isolated from one another as they pick themselves up off the ground. They rub their eyes, vision now returning after having been briefly stolen by the violent eruption of light that had just assaulted them a moment ago. Though they aren’t in the immediate vicinity of one another, each person takes in the same sight as they survey the area around them: close-knit patches of vegetation stretching endlessly, generally measuring to the tops of their heads, though even extending up to twice their height in some places. Though some are still slightly disoriented from the ordeal, it doesn’t take long to realize where they are.

    Michael can be heard yelling somewhere off in the distance from each of the group members. “HELLO? CAN ANYONE HEAR ME? FOLLOW THE SOUND OF MY VOICE!” He repeats his message a few times as the others begin to yell out each other’s names and frantically search the jungle-like environment they’ve been thrust into for their loved ones and their friends.

    Though the lawn had previously appeared full and rich, at their current size it is now almost splotchy in some areas, though this does little to make maneuvering it any easier. They traverse the new terrain and within ten minutes they’ve all managed to cover the distance and spot Michael. They can see through what visibility is provided between the grass that beyond Michael and extending out into the distance is the porch. They reach their friend and form a group before him.

    Keith quickly runs up to him and begins to shake him. “What have you done to us! How are we going to fix this? HOW!?”

    Jim and Isaac pull the understandably upset Keith away from Michael. The entire group has a look of fear and general nervousness plastered to their faces as they continue to understand their situation.

    “Look… yeah, this is bad” begins Isaac, “but the best thing we can all do right now is keep a level head. If we stay calm, I’m sure Michael will be able to figure something out and get us back to normal.”

    Michael turns around 180 degrees and gazes far ahead at the first step of the porch. He turns back around to face the group again before tilting his head up and rotating it to the right, taking in the sight of the colossal picnic table hundreds of feet away from them at their scale and extending high into the sky above. Finally he turns to the left, noticing the last landmark within range, the black grill also raising to incredible heights comparatively to he and his guests.

    “Well…” begins Michael, “The machine is on the porch. That first step onto the porch towers over us. As does the second step. Even if we could somehow scale those, climbing the machine would prove multiple times more difficult. Then assuming any of us can reach the machine, identifying the problem with it could be quite challenging. Even if all of this were feasible, actually repairing the machine would likely be downright impossible at this size, especially where I have no tools at my disposal of any size to work with. I’m afraid I’m going to need some time to weigh our available options and devise a plan.

    It becomes visible that the group does not like what they’re hearing. “Well you’d BETTER come up with something quick” says Alexia.

    “Yeah, it’s entirely your fault we’re in this situation, you’d better be able to get us out of it” adds Jennifer.

    As the group begins to bicker, a steady noise originating somewhere far from their current position distracts them as it gets closer and closer, then a bit further away before coming to a stop. There is a loud slam in the distance before everything is quiet again.

    “Was that…” begins Scott

    “AMY! It has to be Amy! We’re saved!” shouts Brandi as she jumps up and down in excitement. The mood of the group improves as they develop hope of being discovered by their friend and restored to their full sizes.

    “Okay, so here’s MY plan… get her to see us” says Keith.

Amy removes the keys from the ignition as she steps out of her car placing her pink flip flops on the pavement. She stands and closes the car door, then begins walking into the yard, plastic bags in her hands containing the last minute supplies she had journeyed to the store to acquire.

They can hear her approach before they can see it. The faint sound of the heels of her flip flops smacking against her soles grows louder and louder as the distance between her and the group dwindles with each step. She finally appears on the horizon, the entire group is spellbound by her sheer enormity. It’s incredibly complicated for them to comprehend the fact that the massive being they’re currently enraptured by is simply a 5 foot 4 woman.

    Everyone starts to jump in place and wave their arms in the air wildly while yelling with the loudest voices their minute bodies could conjure. “AMY! HELP US AMY! WE’RE DOWN HERE! HELP!”

She is now so close to the shrunken guests that the simple slap of her flip flops making contact with her bare skin is perceived by them as deafening thunderclaps which reverberate all around them. They know not for certain whether her booming footsteps are causing the ground upon which they stand to lightly shake or if their bodies have simply begun trembling in fear.

    Everyone ceases their efforts of jumping, yelling, and waving their arms and time seems to slow to a crawl as they see the pink sole of their friend’s flip flop raise high above their heads. Engulfed in the shadow of her foot, the men and women on the ground snap out of their collective trance and dart away in every direction as the extremity begins its descent to earth.

Miraculously, everyone makes it out from under the ominous shadow just in time, though scattered around the front, back, and sides of the pink flip flop they are all knocked off their feet from the combined forces of the boom of her foot hitting the ground and the gust of air displaced by it. Those that wound up behind the heel of the sandal are treated to the view of her heel separating from the foam, her sole rising, creases and folds in the pale skin appearing on its surface as she lifts her foot and takes her first step away from them. She turns slightly to her left, heading towards the picnic table.

    “UGHHH, Michael… I should have known I couldn’t count on you to get anything ready for the party” says Amy to herself upon finding the surface of the picnic table devoid of any objects. She deposit’s the plastic bags onto it and places her hands on her hips as she yells in a medium-volume. “HELLOOOOOOO…. I’M HOME, IN THE FRONT YARD. WHERE ARE ALL MY PARTYGOERS?” She assumes her husband must have taken them to see something in the backyard and decides to wait for them to come to her after announcing her presence rather than walk all the way around the house. She takes a seat sideways on the side of the picnic table nearest to the home, the left side of her body parallel to it. She is completely oblivious to the machine atop the porch, its position there obscured from her view by the railing and the support columns due to the earlier action of her husband moving it out of the entranceway.

    By now the group members have risen to their feet and gathered together again, the grass between them slowly returning to its original upright position after being pressed down flat by the weight of Amy. They gaze up and up at the mountainous woman sitting at the table a few hundred feet away from where they’re standing, totally unaware of their current plight.

    “Shit. This isn’t gonna work.” says Brandi.

    “This is ridiculously dangerous. She’s just too damn big” says Scott.

    “It’s hopeless, we’re nothing to her we’re never…”

    “HEY, the plan is still to get noticed. Now I don’t know about the rest of you, but I still intend to do just that. If we can’t manage to get Amy’s attention, I think it’s safe to say we’re doomed so let’s not give up just yet” Keith says, interrupting Jennifer. He then begins walking towards the table.

    Everyone in the group recognizes what Keith has said as the truth, and they reluctantly proceed to follow him.

    At a distance of what at their scale would be about half the length of a soccer field away from the picnic table a sound from above stops them dead in their tracks. Foam can be heard scraping against skin. The men and women look up to the source of the noise.

“Might as well get comfortable for a few minutes.“ Amy’s hands grip her flip flops and remove them. She effortlessly tosses them onto the lawn not far in front of her.

The people on the ground watch as the gargantuan pink footwear soars above them, some instinctively half-crouching as the shadows pass over them. They crash down with heavy thuds 75-100 feet behind them, the gust of wind generated by the impact whipping against their bodies, though it’s not strong enough to knock them to the ground.

    Their eyes are glued to Amy, watching as she leans back, still sitting sideways at the table, places her right foot on the seat, and lifts her left leg, placing it down on her right knee, her bare foot elevated into the air. Everyone continues to stare, transfixed by the mighty appendage as she spreads her toes and waves them in the air, scrunches them up, and wiggles them, giving rise to wrinkles that ripple across her pale soles, manipulated by each of her subtle movements.

    After a moment the woman sits up, returning her feet to the ground.

Amy looks down at her feet and twitches her toes. She notices something… a small blue object mere inches away. Extending her right foot forward a couple of inches, she prods the back of her discovery with her big toe, pushing the object softly along the grass ever so slightly with each touch. “A toy car? What would this be doing in the yard?”

Back on the ground, Jim starts getting nervous at the sight of Amy’s tremendous foot toying with his beloved truck. Everyone gasps as Amy stands her foot up on its heel and pushes it forward, a shadow cascading down onto the vehicle as her sole begins to enter the area above it. The group watches as toes like boulders with nails adorned in pretty pink polish grip onto the top of the truck and begin dominating it. She pushes her foot forward and then pulls it backwards, rolling the truck back and forth on the lawn.

    Jim begins to run towards her, Keith and Isaac quickly grab him.

    “What are you thinking? She’s too playful right now, we get too close and we’re accidentally crushed” says Keith.

    “She’s gonna demolish my truck with her fucking toes! I need to put an end to this, she’ll stop when she sees me running up to her, now let go of me!”

    “Actually” starts Isaac, “She sees you running towards her feet, she’s likely to panic up there and mistake you for some kinda spider crawling her way. Better your truck under her feet than yourself.”

    Jim listens to reason and can only watch in fear as Amy stops rolling the truck forwards and backwards with her feet. In an impressive showing of dexterity, she spreads her big and second toes apart, gripping the vehicle between them at its sides.

Amy is curious as to how a toy car found its way into her yard. Gripping it between her toes, she raises her right leg and delivers it to her lap, plucking the tiny thing out from between her toes with her right index finger and thumb, setting it in her palm. She brings it close to her face and scrutinizes it. “WOW, this is weird. It’s just like Jim’s truck. No, it’s EXACTLY like Jim’s truck.” She gazes into the windshield, surveying the interior. “It’s so detailed. What a great replica. But why is it here on my lawn? Maybe Michael bought it for Jim and is planning to give it to him today? But why would he leave it on the ground? That’s a terrible hiding place. Someone could have stepped on it.” She looks down at the foot in her lap and giggles. Amy plucks the truck from her palm and sets it onto the tabletop, returning the foot in her lap to the ground, planting it down next to its counterpart as she absentmindedly pushes the vehicle back and forth again, this time with her fingers.

    Bored of waiting, she begins toying idly with her feet. She rubs them back and forth, savoring the sensation granted unto her as she forces the soft grass down and compresses it beneath her soles. She loves having a lawn she could call her own, and she walks barefoot on it quite often, the feeling of the grass beneath her always able to calm her and improve her mood.

The shrunken group watches on, having not moved far from where they originally came to a halt when Amy began to remove her flip flops. The sound of her feet bulldozing through the lawn is audible to them. She soon stops this and begins to perform a new task. She squeezes her toes tightly together, trapping the tallest blades of grass between them. With minimal effort she extracts many blades from the earth as she barely lifts her toes. This action causes the men and women to feel smaller than anything else they’ve seen thus far has been able to. With such a simple action using only the smallest parts of her body she is able to pull the grass from the ground. Everyone doubts that they would be able to successfully do the same, even if they utilized every ounce of strength they could muster. They look on as the blades of grass begin accumulating at her feet.

Amy has finally grown tired of waiting for her friends to come out and greet her It seems as though they must not be in the backyard, that leaves the inside of the house as the only other option. She looks back at the truck on the table dwarfed by her own hand resting next to it. “Maybe… Maybe Jim brought it over to show Michael? Oh, I don’t know, I don’t even want to get involved. Better put it back where I found it” She crouches down and places the truck back onto the ground in the same general area where she had initially discovered it. Amy taps the roof of the truck 3 times with her index fingertip before rising from the table, standing to her full height and stretching. She takes two small steps forward and lifts her right foot up, displaying great balance as she continues to stand on the left, she brings her hands to her sole and starts to wipe her foot clean.

Debris rains down all around the tiny men and women, blades of grass and chunks of dirt that had become stuck to her soles and trapped within her wrinkles during her casual play fall from Amy’s skin and crash down in every direction as the entire group runs, fleeing from the chaos. They then watch in awe as her massive bare soles pass directly overhead as she steps over them, they touch down with booms and she takes 2 more steps on her path to the pink footwear she had discarded on the lawn earlier. She wriggles her feet into her flip flops, the now familiar sound of foam rubbing against skin greeting their ears once again. Hope dies in their hearts as they watch the woman whom was supposed to be their rescuer walking away from them, flip flop heels flapping and slapping behind her.

“Michael knew better than to give the grand tour without me, there better be a good reason for everyone being inside.“ With her feet situated in her sandals, Amy heads towards the house. 2 feet away from the first stair she notices something black becoming visible to her on the left corner of the porch. “What the hell? What’s THAT doing out here?
   
    Before she can make it to the stairs and even realize the machine is a threat to her, Amy’s entire body is engulfed in red light. With a flash, the Parker yard once again appears quite empty.