They reached the southern end of Las Ramblas, the city?s high street. As they approached it, Max almost tripped over the Mirador de Colom. Barcelona?s famous monument to Christopher Columbus that stood at a towering 200 feet tall to locals but was only shin height to Max. ?Aw look at that little thing? mom said regarding the monument ?It?s so tiny!? She removed her foot from her flip flop, almost crushing several people in the process and put it upright against the statue. Her foot alone easily dwarfed it by almost 100 ft, towering over the tiny Catalans, ?hehe so cute? she said, almost tauntingly. She removed her other flip flop, deciding to walk around the tiny city barefoot. She left her shoes upright against the Mirador. They made a much more effective and intimidating monument to the people of the city with a message that said ?you are all really tiny?, she wouldn?t have to worry about anybody taking them anyway.
Walking up the Ramblas was an almost impossible task, despite it being a high street built to take huge amounts of pedestrian traffic, Max?s foot barely fit between the buildings, meaning he was walking a tightrope act putting one foot directly in front of the other. Thankfully the streets had been cleared, the tiny locals had fled for cover as soon as the Americans arrived but the trees that lined the street were not spared however. They barely offered any resistance as he crunched them under his bare feet as he made his way to the top of the street, at 1.25 inches in height they were more comparable to stiff blades of grass to Max. Despite smashing all the trees, Max had actually made an effort to keep from stepping from on the pocket sized buildings on either side of the street. His mom on the other hand, made no such efforts. Her feet were wider than the road which she made no accommodation for as she walked down, seeming unaware of the damage she was causing. She hadn?t flattened any buildings but she did cause significant damage, mainly to the fronts of the shops and restaurants she trod on. By the time she?d reached the other end of the Ramblas, it looked like a bomb had been detonated in the middle of the street just from her walking, rubble littered the streets, the remains of trees still remained from Max?s initial footsteps. On the other end the Americans found themselves in the Catalonia Plaza, the wide open square that served as the de facto centre of the city, and was about as spacious as a garden shed for Max and his mom who could nearly cover the perimeter together with just their feet. What was usually a hub of activity was near completely deserted as a result of the presence of the titanic tourists, save for a line of buses that Max had almost stepped on. His foot crashing down with an earth shattering step only inches from the miniature vehicles to the terror of their equally miniature occupants, who had returned to their buses in fear of being stepped on by the Americans, only to nearly end up being stepped on anyway. They quivered in fear at the foot that loomed impossibly large over them, even the littlest toe rivalling the bus for size. In one of the buses, their fear turned back into terror as their whole bus was enveloped by two impossibly large fingers and lifted off the ground with stomach flattening force as Max picked their bus off the ground and brought it to face level. He couldn?t get over the fact that he was holding a real bus that was less than two inches long that was filled with real people, so small he could barely make them out and everything here was normal sized to them and that he was the giant! He, who couldn?t even reach the top shelf in the grocery store. The people on the bus cowered in fear at the face of the omnipotent pre teen who held them in his hand, a face that took up more than their entire field of view. ?Woah? he boomed, his voice shaking the entire bus ?you guys really are teeny, seriously, McDonalds has fries bigger than this bus, oh well I suppose it might make a fun toy for later? he said shoving it into the pocket of his shorts, the people on board screaming as they were helplessly trust into darkness, trapped in the pocket of an American 12 year old. Max moved onto the next thing that grabbed his attention, the Corte Ingles department store. To a Catalan it was a fairly impressive, if not old fashioned building, a solid 70 feet tall but to Max it wasn?t even ankle height, he could cover almost the entire roof with his foot. He crouched down over it and decided to see what was inside. He poked his finger through the roof which crumbled like plaster, tinies taking refuge in the building screaming as a massive finger smashed through the roof. Using his finger, Max tore the roof off the building, throwing the tour company?s rules to the wind as the Catalan jets did nothing above. When the roof was off he had to squint to see the tiny things that were in the building. He could see a food court, clothes, furniture, electronics. All massively scaled down to the point that it looked like the doll house of a doll house. He could take it all in one grab and there would be nothing the tinies could do to even stop his little finger. Having torn the roof off the building, Max figured that he could fix up an adequate replacement as a way of repayment. He rose to his full height, standing over the store. To say he towered over it wouldn?t do him justice. The occupants of the store strained their necks just to see past his knees. He raised his foot over the building, more screams rang out from the Europeans who thought the 12 year old American was going to effortlessly destroy the building right there but as he lowered his foot, it came to a ?gentle? rest on top of the walls, nearly fitting perfectly over them. Without the ceiling lights from the roof, Max?s sole plunged the room into partial darkness, the people being subjected to the overwhelming smell of Max?s foot which quickly filled up the building.
While Max toyed with the tinies, his mom was off seeing the ?sights? of the city. Her first stop was the old gothic cathedral. A proud example of European Renaissance architecture that served as a powerful tribute to Jesus and an imposing place of worship. However, places of worship to a higher deity lose their purpose when placed next to a middle aged woman who could easily smash it under her foot. While it was an impressive structure at proportional height, especially for the Middle Ages, the tallest spire was only ankle height to her and really didn't make an impression. ?It looks like a little Lego house? she cooed before moving on. Every step she took caused a small earthquake to tremor across the city. No streets were nearly wide enough for her feet so she had to tiptoe between streets just to avoid tripping over the buildings which were mostly as high as her big toe. Eventually she caught up with the tinies who were fleeing from her. She loomed high over the locals as she walked. Even on her tippy toes it was near impossible to escape being stepped on by her, her soles looming high over the tiny buildings threatening to crush entire streets flat if they came down, as she headed towards her next destination, the famous Sagrada Familia Cathedral. She?d heard it was a lot bigger than the gothic cathedral and that it was still under construction after 140 years so she was eager to check it out. For a local to get from The Cathedral of Barcelona to the Sagrada Familia, it would?ve been at best, a 40 minute walk but for the mother it took a mere two minutes of tip toeing. When she got there she found that even though the Cathedral was much bigger than the gothic cathedral, it was still only as high as her thigh, stepping into the intersection opposite the building, causing locals to once again flee in terror as her bare foot descended from the heavens, she looked down on the building to examine it.
?This is what's been taking you little guys so long?? she demanded, ?why my Max could?ve built something twice as big in a couple of hours with his wood craft and you guys have been at this for 140 years??
Not appreciating the effort it took the Catalans to build this, to them, magnificent structure or the sophistication of the construction, she ranted on.
?Why are you guys building that little old thing anyway? You ever seen anybody more strong and powerful than me? I?m the one you little vermins should be worshipping?.
She always thought she had a body worthy of worship, Rebecca had to get her good looks from somewhere, even as a single mother in her mid 40s she'd always looked after her body well and among these tiny people who were less than ? the height of her big toe, she truly believed that she was a goddess.
?Why don't you teeny tinies bow to a real god?? she said as she raised her foot over the a large group. They didn?t think twice before complying, taking to their knees and pleading for the lives. To the Titaness who could snuff them out with a single step. She replaced her foot where she had lifted it from
?Hmm, seems right? she grunted, ?I think you guys should make a start on serving your Goddess? feet.?
Without hesitation, the locals approached her feet and began patting and rubbing, walking in between toes four times as large as they were to service them. The mother could barely feel them but the feeling of power at having a city of people worshipping her more than made up for it. She was unsure at first but coming to Europe was the best idea she ever had.
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