My head slumped as I wheezed in breath and thought carefully about what to say next.


"Wh. . . What the fuck Greta! " I stammered between labored breaths.



"Things are about to change around here Marcus. Starting with you bullying me." She stated, staring me straight in the eye.


"This isn't funny Greta. . . Ok? I'll be the first one to admit that I was an asshole to you from time to time. . . .but you. . . You're going to kill me!" I whined, a little less manly than I intended.


There was a brief moment of hesitation, before she cranked on my tiny chest again. I let out a hollow groan and we both heard my bones pop as they made room for her imposing fingers.


"You're being over dramatic as usual. . . From what my orientation taught me, it would take a lot more than a little squeeze to actually KILL you. Although, they were pretty keen on letting you breathe." She explained to my red face.


A moment later, she released me from her death grip, allowing me to dangle freely from her finger tips. I immediately knew things weren't right as my body began to convulse on its own. Greta only rolled her eyes and placed me back down on her desk before she turned to her computer and began working.


"That's all for now Marcus, you can let yourself out and get back to work. I need to get those new designs to Bridgette before the end of the day. Even if it means a late night tonight. " she said, cheerfully.


"That's it?. . . She just gets to kick my ass and set me aside?" I thought to myself. "No fucking way!"


With the anger boiling inside me, I peeled myself off of her desk and stood to face her. She stopped typing and just stared at me when she noticed the dirty look I was giving her.


"Yes?" She asked, sounding slightly annoyed.


I gathered my thoughts and weighed my options. . . . And then.


I turned and walked towards the platform.


Behind me, I hear Greta chuckle. It sounded to be more out of amazement that her staredown actually worked.


As much as I knew I should just keep walking, the chuckle pissed me off enough to turn around.


"So that's it huh?" I asked coldly. "You almost break my fucking ribs, and all I get is a "get out of my face?"


She stopped laughing and brought her giant face close to mine.


"What was that Marcus?" She asked, somewhat condescending.


"I'm just saying. . . . Both you and Bridgette nearly end my life. . . Then act like it's no big deal. I put up with it to this point because the pay is good, but how the fuck is shrinking people common practice in here?! And it doesn't stop there. . . After people are shrunk. . .then they have to rely on the discretion of other emotion feeling humans, to decide whether or not they deserve to be pancaked by giant feet, or squeezed to death in somebody's hands? Fuck that! Some way. . . . Some way I'm putting an end to this. . . All of it. I'll dig until I find something." I said, my voice raising as I spoke.

I finished my passionate rant, and looked up. Greta's jaw was slack as she looked at me in amazement.

I turned to walk away, but as I did, it snapped her out of her trance. She reached out and shoved my shoulder, forcing me to spin and face her. She looked unsure of herself. She spoke in stammers.

"H-hey! You don't walk away from your boss like that Marcus!"

Marcus dawned his trademark smug smirk.

"You've been at that job for what. . 2 and a half business days? Don't act like that gives you any authority over me. . . We both know I can program circles around you. Bridgette only gave you that position to punish me. I promise you she is going to get hers, and if you don't watch yourself, you'll get yours." I said cooly, pointing her dead in her face like I was 100 feet tall.

Even towering over me, my words struck a serious nerve and she immediately retreated out of my face. She sat back in her chair with a worried, bothered look on her face. It felt like she wanted to fire back at me but her low confidence betrayed her and she only struggled.

"Get. . . Get out of my office!" She Tried to say with authority but it sounded weak.

I only laughed as I walked to the platform and made my way back to my desk. The truth was, I knew that there would most likely be consequences for that little outburst. The question was, could I capitalize on the inevitable?"

The rest of the day went by fairly uneventful. I did get most of the important projects finished, but without Greta's artistic flair, they weren't as great as they could have been. I'm sure I'll here about it from somebody but I had bigger fish to fry now. I needed to talk to Samantha.

I left the office, now full sized and got in my car. I entered the home address I had taken off the system for Samantha, and typed it into my GPS. 45 minutes later, I pulled up outside her apartment building. Her silver prius was parked outside. I walked up to the second floor and passed doors until I found her door number. With a moment of hesitation, I knocked on the door.


I heard footsteps, and a few seconds later, Samantha opened the door. We looked each other over for a second, her as surprised to see me, as I was surprised to see her in her street clothes and not her usual professional wear. She looked rougher than anyone I'd seen in a long time.

"Marcus. . . . What. . . What the hell are you doing at my house?" She asked, suspiciously.

"Samantha, I REALLY need to talk to you." I said, looking back over my shoulder.

The shorter woman gave me the look of death, shoving me back as she stepped out of her apartment and on to the walkway. She closed the door behind her.

"What is it?" She hissed.

"It's about Bridgette. About your "vacation". I said with air quotes.

Samantha's face went instantly pale, and I knew I was on to something. She glared at me for a moment, before she looked over my shoulder and around the apartment courtyard. Without a word, she turned and walked back into her apartment, leaving the door open. I followed her in, and closed the door.


She walked to her couch and plopped down. She still glared at me and I felt like maybe this wasn't a good idea. I sat down in a chair across from her. I didn't exactly know where to begin, so I just spoke.

"Samantha. . . . . Did Bridgette. . . You know. . .force this vacation time?

Samantha continued to glare, trying to hold her poker face, but after a few seconds, it broke and she began to weep.

"It wasn't my fault! It was just a tiny mistake." She whimpered.

"What are you talking about Samantha?" I inquired, not because I cared about her emotions, but because I needed all the dirt I could get my hands on.

"What do you even care anyway?! You've never said more than two kind words to me since you worked there?" She asked, accusingly.

"Samantha, I do care! I'm trying to put an end to a ridiculous system where employees work in fear of getting crushed by their supervisors!"

With this, I noticed a slight waver in the expression on her face. She sat just staring at the floor. Finally she spoke.

"Ok. . . . All of the last two weeks, I'd been helping Bridgette work on a deal with this company over in Seattle. It was going well and I was just finishing up with it, when I got distracted by family issues. I typed in some wrong values, and I won't bore you with the details, but it cost us a large sum of potential profit. The customer was overjoyed, but Bridgette wasn't. . . ."


"What did she do to you?" I asked, putting on my best sympathetic face.

Samantha's face grimaced at the recollection, but that was it. I pressed again.

"Samantha?"

She was quiet for another minute before she spoke.

"All day" she said quietly.

"All day?" I repeated, confused.

"All day. . . Under her desk. . . With her feet." She said coldly.

I sensed she wasn't done speaking so I remained silent.

"For a full 8 hours. . . She. . . Played with my body like it was some kind of toy. Whenever. . . . Whenever someone would come in she'd. . . Bury my face in her sole so they wouldn't hear me. I tried to scream. . . But either nobody heard me. . . Or they weren't trying to hear me." Her eyes never left the spot in front of her own bare feet.

"So what, you lost her money and she took out her anger on you?" I asked, just to sum it up.

"No. Not exactly. . "

"Then what?" I pushed her for the big picture.

"A supervisor can't just decide they want to crush an employee. . . There has to be a referral from an HR rep for disciplinary action. If they touch you without that. . . . It could be grounds for termination.

That was huge information. It would definitely come in handy.

"So she can't just crush us for no reason huh? Have you ever seen her break that rule?" I inquired to Bridgette's right hand woman.

She was quiet.

"I think you better go now." She stated finally, standing up and walking towards the door.

I didn't want to push my luck as I already had what I needed so I followed her to the door. When I was outside I turned to face her. I was about to say goodbye when she stepped up to be with her chest out, bumping into me and forcing me to take a step back. Even though I was 2 inches taller than her, my heart began to race.

"Listen Marcus. . . . I don't know what you're up to, and I don't WANT to know. I'm just giving you this as a fair warning. If Bridgette somehow finds out I told you anything. . . . . I don't care how long it takes or what I have to do. . . . They'll be scraping you off of my office chair with a spatula." She finished her sentence and slammed the door in my face.

"I love you too Samantha!" I called loud enough for her to hear me before I returned to my car and headed for home.


"For a full 8 hours. . . She. . . Played with my body like it was some kind of toy."

I played back the recording time and time again as I contemplated what I was going to do next. With that little visit, I had an idea of the limitations of the supervisors, but I needed a full understanding. I waited patiently until I was sure Bridgette had gone home, before I logged into my employee account.

I went directly for Bridgette's employee file, but to my dismay, it wasn't there. I tried every trick I knew, but I couldn't find it. I wasn't exactly sure what she had to hide, but I would find out, and I would burn her down with it.

Shifting gears, I instead looked up the supervisors code of conduct. It was page after pdf page of worthless information but finally I found what I wanted. My confidence began to build as I armed myself with knowledge. Tomorrow was going to be fun.

As if on cue, my phone went off, signalling a text. Greta.

[I need to see you in my office, first thing tomorrow.]

I only chuckled. I knew what it was about but at this point I didn't care. My plan was already underway. I fell asleep playing through it in my head.



The next morning I made sure to get to work extra early just so I could be ready. I stood in the dark and watched other tiny employees file in and begin their day. If only they knew the shit storm I was preparing to unleash soon enough.

Another 20 minutes passed before I heard the voice I was waiting for. A second later, Greta appeared in the doorway and flipped on the light. I watched the smile on her face as she looked over her office. I could tell it was a dream come true for her and brought her real joy. . . Until she spotted me standing on her desk, hands in my pockets and smug look on my face.

Her cheery smile disappeared and a scowl replaced it. I waited intently as she looked outside her door to make sure nobody was looking, before she closed the door and the blinds that shielded the clear glass wall.

When she finished sealing me in, she turned and stomped towards me, her flip flops making that annoying slap on her bare feet. Behind me, some spare change she had in a coffee mug, jingled with every heavy footstep. That did nothing for my confidence, but I kept my cool as she approached.


The moment of truth arrived as she reached out to grab me. I knew she had spent all night thinking about what I had said to her, and that she had built up enough confidence to actually crush me, just about the time she texted me. Now, with me in her office, she intended to inflict whatever harm she had planned last night.

When she was near enough, she reached for me. Her fingers were mere inches away from clutching me and no doubt coiling in until she squeezed whatever desired effect she had in mind from me, before I spoke.

"Um, Greta? You don't happen to have the referral handy for whatever by the book beat down you're about to put on me do you?" I asked casually.

Just as I expected, the giantess stopped dead in her tracks, her hand frozen in place and shock on her face.

Utter hatred flashed in her eyes as she realized I knew the rules to the game now. I could read the conflict on her face as she fought back the urge to just throw the book out the window and snuff out the 6 inch manifestation of her torment with swift ease.


I just gave her a blank stare as she battle the desire to smash me. Finally. . . She crumbled. I didn't even flinch as she raised her fist, and pounded it on to her desk right beside me. It was so close I could feel the wind from it, but remained calm. She brought her face in to examine for fear, but found none. Her shoulders slumped as she stood straight, and walked around her desk to sit down.

"Is that all you needed this morning Greta?" I asked, not bothering to hide my smug tone.

"I'm going to get that referral Marcus!" She blurted out. "And when I do. . . . I'm gonna stomp you into the floor under these flip flops you hate so much!"


Bingo. . . I had her.