“Alright, what are we up to now? Five-three to you, right?”

“Six­-three, actually, although I suspect you know that full well. Nice try though, Alice. If we weren’t playing for money, I might have even let that one slide.”

“Don’t get all smug on me, anyone can succeed at a game of luck,” she sniped back, stubbing out a cigarette and immediately lighting another. “It’s like genetics or something – some people get lucky, and some don’t.”

It was bitterly cold outside, and the ladies had gone no further than the first bar they both agreed on – the sixth, overall. It was too small and too warm, but it had corner seats, indoor smoking and wasn’t excessively loud. Most importantly, it wasn’t outside.

“If it were a game of luck, we’d be even-stevens, or near enough at least. You’re just bad at it,” she added, sipping on a daiquiri.

“Alright, Lou, if you’re feeling so confident, let’s swing fifty bucks on this one.”

“Fine by me, I need a new pair of gloves anyway. I’m starting to feel the winter chill already. I’ll even let you pick the target this time too.”

“I’m gonna buy a new pair of gloves to smack you with.”

Alice cast her eyes across the room.

A group of men were lining the bar front, cheering intermittently at some sort of sports game on the TV. Nah. Bar flies were sniping at a few of the more attractive loners at the edges of the bar. Not interested. A suspiciously young-looking group of people sitting suspiciously close to the door. That boy’s cute. A couple cuddling in one of the booths. I wonder if Lou’s brother is still with that Canadian hussy. Tired shift workers speaking to each other in Spanish. Could really go for a taco right about now.

Hmm, no obvious candidates.

“You’re terrifying when you stare, you know that, Alice?” She had her elbows up on the table, resting her chin on both fists, as if demonstrating the proper ladylike etiquette for staring.

“Shut up, Lou.”

She had made two rounds of the bar with her eyes and was just about to announce the youngish boy as tonight’s pick when a shadow fell over her – and strong smell of booze.

“D’you ladiesh believe in love at firsht site, or should I walk by again?”

Old. Drunk. Probably alone. Creepy. He’s perfect!

“Alright, Lou, I pick him!”

“Eh?” The man stared at her. Probably waiting for a punch-line.

Lou sniffed. “Good as any, I guess. No great loss in any case.”

“Ssho…you ladies want to get out of here? There’sh enough of me for the both of you, and then some.”

“You’re pissing up the wrong fire hydrant, buddy. Go on, shoo,” Alice waved him away with her hands. More confused than hurt, he shambled off towards the bar flies.

“Did you hear that in a movie somewhere?”

“What?”

“’You’re pissing up the wrong fire hydrant, buddy’. There’s no way you came up with something that clever,” Lou kept her eyes on the bottom of her glass as the last of her daiquiri travelled up her straw.

“I’ll piss up your fire hydrant in a minute. Anyway, I’ve made my choice. I pick him.”

“No accounting for taste, I guess. I’ll bet 50 on him not lasting 15 minutes.”

“Nuh-uh, it’s lively tonight. He’d be lucky to last 5 minutes. I won’t bet against that. Oh shit, my cocoa’s gone cold.”

“Alright, let’s split the difference and call it 10 minutes then. Less than 10 minutes, you win; more than 10 minutes, I win.”

Alice looked over at him again. He had trapped one of the bar flies, who was giving him her polite, but waning attention. She couldn’t tell what he saying at this distance, but she thought she heard the word “marines” a couple of times, and he seemed to be trying to show her something on his arm.

“Deal. You look for a good moment, and I’ll grab us some more drinks.”

Alice left her seat and wandered off toward the bar. Lou had the sneaking suspicion that her next cocktail was going to be cheapest item on the menu. It didn’t really bother her though; Alice hadn’t yet realised that the last of her muffins had gone missing.

She was right about it being lively tonight though. There was a lot of laughter in the air, and frequent traffic going to and from the bar. From Lou’s perspective, it was a good thing. She needed a lot of noise and distractions for what she was hoping to accomplish, and bars were good places for that sort of thing. It’s harder to eavesdrop when you can barely hear the person next to you. Harder to tell a pickpocket when you’re constantly being bumped by the crowd. Harder to notice a person disappearing.

Well, not disappearing exactly, but close enough.

Lou waited for the bar fly to excuse herself and disappear into the restroom. The couple in the booth looked to be dozing off. The young friends were occupied with something on one of their cell phones. The sports cultists were too tied up in their game to notice anything else. Alice was slutting up the barkeeper.

It didn’t take long for a good moment to appear. Aaaand…

One moment he was there, the next he wasn’t. Everyone was tied up in their own affairs to notice what had happened – except for Alice that is. She looked at the spot where he had been moments before, at Lou, at the clock on the wall, back at Lou again, before the barkeeper took back her attention with a question.

The man hadn’t really disappeared, of course. In fact, if you were to look very, very closely at that particular spot where had just been standing, you’d see a tiny creature – almost unnoticeable against the dark wood floor.

“I started counting, you aren’t cheating me out of this one!” Alice thumped down two glasses to mark her return. One hot cocoa, and one vodka tonic.

“I always love this part, Lou. I like to imagine their tiny faces as they try to make sense of what’s going on. ”

The man who had the misfortune to catch Alice’s attention, and who until moments ago was happily leaning against the corner of the bar, was now no more than an inch tall; an unwitting, unwillingly participant in another one of Alice and Lou’s games.

They had been through this routine a dozen times before, in different locations with other participants. The people they chose to play weren’t always male and sometimes the rules changed depending on the circumstances, but the game was essentially the same each time: how long could each tiny last.

It usually took a minute or so before any of them were spurred into movement. One of the women at the bar hopped down off her stool and passed by him on the way to the jukebox. It hadn’t really been that close, but her titanic figure looming over him or perhaps the vibrations of her heel against the floor had shaken some life back into him. His tiny, inch-high form darted towards the cover of the bar.

“Oh shit, we forgot to ask his name,” Alice’s wide eyes tracked the tiny man’s journey across the floor. “Let’s call him Gary.”

“Did Gary dump you in high school or college?” Lou asked. She hated vodka, and she was sure she had mentioned this to Alice before.

“Shut up, you. You’re just bitter because you’re about to lose 50 bucks.”

One of the sports fanatics swore and stamped his feet against the metal rungs of his stool. Gary froze, then changed course towards for the opposite direction.

He was a good 12 feet or so away from the two of them, but he was surprisingly quick for his age. Alice sipped her cocoa. Maybe he was in the Marines after all.

The bar traffic was picking up. The doorbell clinked as a pair of young dates walked into the bar and strode down the aisle, hunting for an empty booth. Lou wondered what a terrifying sight it must make to see such colossal figures walking straight towards you. Alice gasped as a petite, red-head’s boot landed inches from his body. It dwarfed him tenfold; a giant, black uncaring thing that would have ground him into oblivion if he had veered slightly further to the left.

There wasn’t anything he could do at his size, of course. With the noise and general drunken status of the bar, there was almost no chance of anyone noticing him. And even in the event that someone were to look down and see him, there was an even slimmer chance of that encounter not ending with him smeared across the sole of someone’s shoe. Lou knew exactly what she had to do to render him helpless - and she had done it. There was no chance of him surviving the night unless she wanted him to. Unfortunately, that was not what she wanted.

Four minutes had passed since the game had begun and their little gladiator was still going strong. He had been closing the gap between himself and their table, although his speed had slowed and he was starting to move more cautiously.

“Hey Lou, remind me again why this isn’t a sport. This is much more entertaining than watching a bunch of walking fridges toss a lump of pig skin to each other.”

“You mean aside from the fact that there’s only a handful of people who can do this? Probably for the same reason that they don’t duct tape knives to hamsters and make them fight in an arena.”

“That’s horrible!” Alice looked aghast. “Ooh, that loafer nearly got him!”

Someone’s loafer had indeed sailed over him, catching him in a draft of wind and throwing him forward.

When he had regained his bearings, he diverted his course slightly towards the young couple sitting at the nearby booth. The immediate uncontrollable panic and confusion seemed to have worn off, replaced by a slightly more logical and directed panic: the need to find help. Lou knew how this worked by now. She’d seen it many times before.

He was nearing the leg of their table when one of the young friends from the next booth over shrieked, flung her arm out and sent a glass flying forwards toward their table. It flew past Gary, smashed several feet in front of him, and fortunately shattered away from him. Unfortunately, some of the liquid from the glass had landed on him.

Alice looked alarmed, but the group giggled, and the young culprit sheepishly poked her head above the partition and began apologising to the couple behind her. One of the boys drummed his fingers on her back, and she aimed a mock punch at him in return.  Kids being kids.

The girl slid off her seat and set off towards the barkeeper, a sneaker falling very close to the tiny creature that was no doubt fast using up its source of luck. Alice winced and looked at the clock nervously. Six minutes had already passed and that $50 was looking less and less likely.

“Do you think I should buy Cashmere gloves or cotton gloves?” Lou teased.

Alice glared back and briefly through about marching over there and ending the game prematurely, but that would, of course, mean a forfeit. Besides, Lou usually let Alice have her fun with any survivors from their little games – the latter usually saw it as an added bonus or her consolation prize (more often the latter).

What Alice really wanted, however, was to keep one of those tinies as her little pet. She had begged and pleaded with Lou countless times over it, but Lou rarely entertained the topic for long. Despite the fact that Alice held the lease on their apartment, Lou was the only one who had the ability to shrink people. It was a petty issue, but one of that came up often in their household, as neither side was willing to give in to the other. Alice was persistent, but Lou was a rock.

The tiny man had been frightened back into the aisle and now had a new course of direction. He was making a beeline for Lou and Alice’s table.

“Do you think he noticed us staring at him?” Alice asked.

“Probably. Looks like he’s waving his arms.”

“You’ve got better eyes than I do.”

He was clearing the distance as quickly as his little legs would take him. It became obvious as he approached that he had indeed noticed the attention they were giving him, and was darting towards them in the hope of rescue. Lou thought it was funny, and even Alice appreciated the irony.

He was scarcely four feet away from the table, and the pair had their gaze firmly fixed on him.

“Hey Lou, what if-”

Crunch.

In the spot where Gary’s tiny form had been moments before now stood a giant black heel. A set of milky white toes with chipping red nail polish peeped out from behind the strap and scrunched instinctively.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt. Did you happen to see a man walk out that door within the past few minutes? Kind of tall, forty-ish, wearing a blue shirt?”

Alice continued to stare, but Lou kept them from an awkward silence.

“No, sorry. We didn’t notice anyone like that, but we were in a world of our own,” she replied.

“Oh, well…thank you anyway,” the woman sighed. “I was just talking to him not even 10 minutes ago, went to go freshen up in the ladies’, and come back to find that he’s pulled a fast one on me.”

Lou smiled. “Maybe something cropped up.”

“Yeah, I bet. Anyway, sorry for disturbing you. Have a good evening.”

She pivoted on her heel, grinding what remained of the tiny man beneath the ball of her foot, and walked off, tracking an almost imperceptible red mark for a couple of steps.

“I won.” Alice couldn’t quite believe it. “I actually won.”

Lou sipped her vodka tonic and stared at the stranger as she rounded the bar and disappeared from view.

“I really could have done with that pair of gloves,” she mourned.

“Use your pockets, princess, that’s what they’re there for,” Alice picked up her bag and coat from beside her. “Let’s call it 30 bucks, and you can buy the cab on the way home.”

“Fine.”

“And I get to eat your leftover noodles.”

“No dice.”

“Well too bad, because I already did.”

“Well, I ate the last of your muffins.”

“Bitch.”