"Keep me away from her," gasped Biff, staggering back across the plush carpet. "Keep her away!" He leered dramatically at the suddenly possessed teen, raising one arm defensively as he stumbled back to Jennifer, his chosen defender. Trinidad could only babble her confused apology while struggling to retain her dignity in the face of the affronted miniature man.

Andi parted her ringlets and watched the little man's progress across the carpet. She couldn't help but liken him to a large insect, struggling with inefficient legs to navigate the pile carpeting. How light could he be, that such a meaty little guy hardly disturbed the synthetic fibers? She watched the muscles rippling in his thighs and throughout his shoulders and back, suddenly itching to hold him in her hands, just for a second, just to learn more about what he was like now. She glanced guiltily at the other girls in the group, alarmed that they might have picked up on her thoughts.

Yet every girl seemed to be lost in her own world. Heather watched the tiny man's progress as well, a strange half-smile wafting about her puffy pink lips. She was deliberately ignoring anything Trinidad had to say, for the time being, and fortunately it was inarguable that the frail, nude man was sufficiently captivating to provide a plausible excuse for shutting out the abruptly cruel Psych student. As she stared, rapt, her long toes kneaded into the worn grooves of her Birkenstocks, a strange fact that Tory picked up on.

The punk chick rubbed her nose distractedly. Thoughts were churning through her own head: irritation at Jennifer once again assuming the leadership position, annoyance at the apparent compliance among everyone else in the group. And what the hell happened to Trinidad? Why was she so stimulated by this little pest? Between the aroused nipples and the blood-lust in her expression, Trinidad seemed like someone quite different than the person Tory experimentally dated last year. She drew her feet closer to herself, but when her rising knees and spread thighs turned her skirt into a chasm once more, she scowled and lay her knees to the side, flattening her legs and barring access to Megan's creepy older brother, small as he was.

"Not interested, buster," said Jennifer. Extending one long, slender leg, she walled off Biff's progress with a tan wedge almost as tall as he was. "You'll have to learn to fend for yourself, big guy."

Biff scrambled upon her foot quite ably. "But you saw what she tried to do to me! Did you chicks just bring me here to kill me?"

She tried to play nonchalant, but the idea of murdering Megan's brother concerned her. "Hey, we all gotta die sometime, right? So what if your time comes sooner rather than later, at the hands of a mob of your adoring fans?" Heather and Andi giggled at that. Trinidad cracked a weak smile. "It's just that we love you so much, right? Isn't that what you were saying? What if we just tore you apart in our uncontrollable lust for perfect-little-you?"

Biff stared up the impossible length of Jennifer's jean-clad leg. He could run up it, easy. And beyond that was her body, her slender torso in a low scoop-neck sweatshirt and her thin little military-style jacket. She looked good, she always looked good, out of all of his sister's friends. And the way she draped her hair over him this evening, how huge her eyes got when she lunged at him… He stared up at her with a goofy grin.

"Naw, I see right through you, Jenny." Even to himself, yelling at the tops of his lungs, his voice was tinny and small. It had the entire cavernous living room of wherever-they-were to echo in, of course. "You've got a good heart. You won't let anything happen to me." He folded his arms and nodded slowly, standing upon the leather panel of her wedge, on the bridge of her slender foot.

Jennifer blushed at his brazenness. Was there any truth to that? Sure, she saved him from Trinidad's crushing Docs, but she'd do that for anyone, likely. Not that anyone was as small as Biff right now. Would she do it for a mouse? Her embarrassment melted to amusement. He was larger than a mouse: he was like a healthy rat. She snickered, and he laughed in response, clearly misunderstanding her.

"Hey girls," she said, thrusting her arms at him. "What does this remind you of?" She pinched his upper arms and lifted him off of her foot, dangling him in the air like a wet washcloth. Her friends' eyes widened as she held him aloft, and she presented the tiny, naked senior to each of them in turn.

Andi blushed terribly and hid her face, peeking at him between her fingers. "I can't look, I'm sorry! Don't show him to me!" Jennifer informed her she was no fun and turned to the hippie chick.

Heather never lost her dreamy-eyed expression, only tucked a thick wave of hair behind her ear and grinned. "Aw, look at that," she breathed. "He's got a nice little butt, doesn't he? I like that. Hold him steady, Jennifer." She glanced at her friend, then planted her hands on the carpet and leaned forward. All eyes were upon her as she crept on all fours to the helpless little figure dangling between Jennifer's fingers. She'd seized him facing her, so his back was exposed to Heather, and Biff couldn't crank his head around sufficiently to understand where the hot, moist breeze was blowing from.

Heather's jaw opened wide, her lips peeled back and exposed two rows of gleaming white teeth, unusually long. An unusually broad and long tongue rolled out of her jaws like a carpet, the end of which curled daintily to flicker at the tiny man's feet.

Andi stared on in something like horror. Jennifer was entranced, a half-smile wobbling on her face as she simultaneously witnessed and participated in the spectacle. Trinidad was absolutely motionless where she sat, the air around her crackled with suspense. Her almond-shaped eyes were huge and bright, fixed upon the hippie's abnormally long tongue as it slithered around the thin calves, the bulging calves of a specifically trained athlete. Tory, once again, studied every last micro-expression in her ex's face, only occasionally peering at the tiny man, who was hollering in surprise and shock, and yet not kicking at the invading tongue. No, Biff hung there between Jennifer's thumbs and forefingers, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, but he did not struggle one iota. He only gaped up at Jennifer as though voicelessly begging her for an explanation for what was happening. And though the beautiful blonde preppy chick was there in the middle of it, she had nothing to say. She saw him, yet somehow it was as though she were looking past him; she saw his bulging pecs, his round little biceps and calves, his meaty thighs, but on no level did she recognize the person that had a name, had plans for the weekend, who meant something to his family.

All there was, was a tiny little man, naked as the day he was born, and a thick, glistening, rosy tongue slithering around his legs and up the backs of his thighs as though he were coated in sugar. That was it, and that was all.

It was daring of Heather, she felt, to run the tip of her tongue straight up between his pert little butt cheeks. She couldn't fit it in there meaningfully, of course, but she nudged at his little crack until he swayed in her friend's grasp like a miniature swingset. At last she rocked back to her hips, hugging her knees to her poet's blouse, closed her eyes and let her head loll backward, guffawing as if in slow motion.

When she looked up again, everyone was gawking at her. Languidly she blinked back at them. "Miladies, I am high as fuck. Why aren't you guys drinking?"

Andi blushed, again. "We're not allowed to! Are you guys..?" Her dark button eyes flickered over her friends doubtfully.

Jennifer shrugged, setting a dazed and very obviously aroused Biff to swinging between her hands. Tory glanced at Jennifer, then at Trinidad, the latter of whom bore a witchy smile and waggled a wide steel flask for display. All their reflections were multihued streaks in its concave form-fitting shape. "It's my mom's boyfriend's," she explained. "Rum, probably. He's a musician, he leaves this shit all around her house. He's got, like, three of them: he won't miss one for a night."

The corner of Tory's full, purple lips curved upward and she reached for the flask. Trinidad's smile widened and she helped herself quickly before handing it off. Tory had to help Jennifer with her swig, too, since she wouldn't let go of the beefy little arms, tipping the threaded neck between her slim lips.

"How is it?" Andi asked meekly. Jennifer grimaced but swallowed, while Heather only sniffed at the flask: she never mixed substances. That was her idea of being responsible.

Tory shrugged. "Well, I like it. I guess it's an acquired taste. Why don't you try some?" She deliberately passed it just over Biff's head, taunting him with the elixir intended only for goddesses. Didn't stop him from craning his head back and rolling his tongue around his gaping mouth, though, as crude a prayer for satisfaction as they'd ever seen.

The plump Asian girl reached for the flask, hesitated, then withdrew her hand. "I can't," she whined. "It's a school night."

Heather reached out one slim arm to work her bony knuckles into the shoulder of Andi's oversized Minnie Mouse sweatshirt. "Rela-a-a-a-ax," she sang. "Tomorrow's Friday. Who cares what happens on Fridays, right? It's a fuck-off day." She nodded reassuringly at her intimidated friend. "And we're all friends here, right? Of course we are! Just have a lil' snoot and loosen up. You're way too tense." Heather glanced at Trinidad, whose blue kerchief, knotted pirate-style, nodded enthusiastically; she swung her head to Tory, offering her a loopy grin. The punk chick only shrugged and pursed her lips at Andi, which certainly didn't help things.

"Hey," keened a thready little voice, "hey! HEY! A little help here?" Biff nodded suggestively at the flask Tory yet held over his entire person, the drink Andi turned away. "If she doesn't want it, I'll have hers!"

Andi's fine brows arched. "I guess that's okay…"

A slender, tanned hand swatted the silver flask back toward Tory. "Nuh-uh," announced Trinidad. "This is nectar for the goddesses alone. If the puny mortal wishes to partake…" She faltered, glancing at Tory and Jennifer.

The alpha-blonde picked it up. "If the wretched little excuse for a human being desireseth some, um, goddess-juice," she nodded at Trinidad, who winced, "then there are many trials of labor and courage he must undertake for such a reward." She lifted Biff much higher from the ground, over all their heads. Some of the girls stared at his butt, others had a view of the razor-thin erection that sprouted out of his hips like an unruly hair.

But Biff didn't care. The challenge was stated, and he never, ever backed down from a dare. "Sounds good to me!" he shouted, having no whiff of classical prose. "I'll do whatever you want me to! After all, this is my dream! Nothing's gonna happen to me!"

Jennifer giggled, staring up at his wide smile. The pathetic little teen still didn't know what was going on. Well, that just meant more fun for them, didn't it? "You heard him, ladies," she crowed to the group. "Our little Discount Hercules has announced he's up for any challenge we can throw at him! So… who's got a challenge?"

Trinidad started to raise her hand, but all the girls shouted her down; she pouted but acquiesced. They glanced at each other (except Andi, who stared at her chunky shoes on the plush champagne carpet), shrugging uncomfortably, biting their lips. This couldn't be the end of the evening, could it? Ending so ignominiously, at the dead-end of zero ideas?

In a flash of salmon sweatshirt, Andi's pudgy hand seized the steel flask before Tory could react. And before anyone could stop her, she upended the vessel into her small mouth and let the potion burn its way down into her stomach. "First task," she croaked, when the coughing subsided. "Biff has to fuck me up the ass."

Everyone in the room, including the diminutive beefy teen suspended between them all, forgot to breathe for a few seconds.