Rebecca didn't want to be here. She'd much rather be in Miami Beach like her friends were for Spring Break but her mother had insisted on dragging her and her younger brother to Spain for this “once in a lifetime vacation opportunity” saying that 16 was too young for a girl to be going to Miami without adult supervision anyway. Rebecca didn’t understand why her mom found this idea so appealing. Apparently this tour company was advertising the history and culture of Europe by being the first to offer Americans vacations to the continent but the history wasn't that impressive when all those old buildings were barely bigger than shoeboxes (and Rebecca had been tempted to put her shoe through a good few of those buildings) and the culture didn’t really matter to her because why would she care about the little bug sized people at her feet.
The resort wasn't even that good either. Europe didn't have many “American friendly” buildings yet so they slept in a marquee provided by the company that served as a makeshift hotel room complete with beds, a fridge and a stove, with portable toilet and shower outside all set up in a clearing a couple of feet (or a few hundred meters for the locals) from the resort for the Spanish people. The resort itself was nothing special, most of the buildings, 6 story apartment complexes, barely reached the waist of her 116’ tall frame and the tallest, a 10 story complex, was still barely taller than Max, her annoying 14 year old brother. None of that mattered to Rebecca though, the only thing she was interested in was tanning on the beach. To get there, she had to walk through the tiny village adjacent to the resort, along a street that lead directly to the sea front. She had to admit it was amusing seeing the effect simply walking through the street had on the local populace. People turned and ran in terror when they saw her approaching, motorists abandoned their vehicles in the street to escape her and anyone who could get indoors did. Even at her size, Rebecca could still see a few heads nervously peeking out from behind the curtains of homes. Every step produced an earthquake that measured a little past 1 on the richter scale, knocking the locals in close proximity to her off balance and even causing some to fall to the ground. The sound of her flip-flop clad feet hitting the pavement sounded like gunshots to the Spanish and many covered their ears to drown out the sound. Eventually she arrived at the beach, only to find it packed with tiny beachgoers. She removed her footwear and put them in her handbag and set about finding a spot to lie down. In truth this task wasn’t that difficult. Whenever she encountered any sunbathers, all she had to do to get them out of her way was lift her foot over them, and the sight of her giant bare sole hovering above them was enough to get them to move as quickly as they could. On top of this, every step she took kicked up heaps of sand onto those nearby, further clearing people away. Finally, when she got far enough onto the beach that she could lie back, she began to slowly sit down. Any remaining beachgoers caught beneath her gigantic bikini clad butt quickly evacuated leaving her plenty of room to lie down without crushing anybody. That was one of the few benefits of coming to Europe, in America she was just an average girl, slightly above average height, went to school with average friends, but to these Europeans, she was, colossal, the size of a large apartment building and the locals knew better than to defy an American, well most of them.
As she was lying on the beach, a beach that was barely long enough for her to lay down without getting her toes wet, drinking a bottle of coke that was as tall as a double decker bus for a Spaniard, she was disturbed from her sunbathing by the distant sound of somebody yelling. No, not distant, when Rebecca turned her head she saw a little Spanish person right in front of her, yelling in her face ‘Move you giant bitch you’re blocking the whole beach’. She couldn’t believe it, a local, talking to her like that! The tour company had run a rigorous screen process to make sure that none of the tourists would harm the locals but they didn't prepare her for if they disrespected her, an American! Who could crush his whole home underfoot! She had a good mind to punt the little guy halfway across Spain but she wasn’t bothered enough to get up from where she lay. Instead, she simply inhaled and then blew what, to her, was a light breeze but to the minuscule beach goer in front of her was a hurricane force wind. The force of the gust was enough to send the man flying 50 yards down the beach and unfortunately for the natives, he wasn’t the only one affected. Rebecca’s exhalation had sent any Spanish people nearby flying and wreaked havoc along the beachfront . Sand was thrown up, towels flew about, nearby buildings shuddered, some losing their canopies and an ice cream truck even tipped over. Laughing at all the chaos she had caused as an American by simply blowing out of her mouth she went back to basking in the sunlight.
Meanwhile Max, her brother, was out exploring the resort and adjacent town. Obviously he couldn't make benefit of any of the facilities, the hotel pool was barely deep, wide or long enough to put his feet in so he just used it as a basin to cool his feet in but eventually the tiny natives had gotten tired of truck sized feet taking up the whole pool and had the lifeguard kick him out. He obeyed, even though the lifeguard tower didn't even come up to his knee. Even if he couldn't enter any of the buildings it was still cool to walk around the town among the little buildings. To his fellow Americans, he was an average 12 year old he was short for his age (and in general) and pretty skinny but here, he was little over 100 feet tall. He felt like Godzilla, everywhere he went people turned and ran or made for the relative safety of nearby buildings (as if Max wasn't bigger than all the buildings anyway), cars the size of the toy ones he had back at home screeched to a halt at his feet. Traffic jams formed around him as late afternoon traffic ran into this colossal pre-teen and all it took was a simple raising of the foot to clear them away, the thought of ending up beneath the bare sole of the American enough to scare the drivers into action. Every footstep caused a mini earthquake for the Europeans. He had to crouch to look into most of the apartment buildings and when he did look through the little windows he saw terrified 3 inch tall people in rooms with little doll house furniture.
Eventually he came across a basketball court with some people on it. Being a (in this case literal) big basketball fan himself he wanted to try see if he could join in. Crouching down beside the court he said to the little players on the court "hey can I play?"
"Sure" they said, thinking they would never lose to a child.
They immediately realised their mistake. On the first possession one of the players, a point guard used to using his smaller height to create scoring chances drove past the ankle of the American and attempted a lay up only to get met by a palm bigger than his whole body at the rim. The ball deflected off Max's hand and the player smacked to the ground.
"Hey that's a goaltend!" called another player.
"What do you mean? That ball was below the rim when I blocked it" Max protested. Despite this, Max was outnumbered 10-1 and a point was given to team Spain. Even with the threat of dubious goaltending calls, protecting the rim that was as high as his calf from a ball smaller than a pea didn't prove too challenging for Max. It was defending the perimeter that was the hard part. While it was tempting for Max to simply pluck 3 point shots out of the air. That was goaltending without question so he had to contest shots without fouling which, again, was tough given that his foot alone was the length of the baseline to the top of the 3 point arc but he soon found a fix for that too. He simply crouched down and used his open palm to isolate, smother and intimidate the ball carrier to force him into turnovers. It was impossible to pass or dribble around or shoot over a palm that was as long as you were tall and much wider. For Max it was like he was playing against slightly more mobile Lego men. On offense it wasn't too hard for Max either. While it was almost impossible to dribble accurately without having the ball stolen by one of his tiny opponents, he didn't need to dribble. The rules allowed for two steps before dribbling and he only needed one longer step to cover the length of the court, crouch down and drop the ball into the hoop as the other players scrambled to make any sort of futile effort to stop him while also avoiding the steps of his feet that could squash them flat. He also soon realised that he didn't need to walk the full length of the court to score. All he had to do was bend over and stretch from near half court and drop it in and because his feet were outside the arc, it would count as two points. From then on that's all he did. When the Europeans had possession they scrambled to move the ball quickly as to not let the American pin them down like mice trying to keep away from a cat but like a cat, the 12 year old was too big yet still to nimble to hold off and possession would inevitably be turned back over to the giant American, then they could only watch, helplessly as the giant easily dropped the pea sized ball into the hoop. Occasionally, simply because of how funny it was to him, Max would mix things up by stamping his foot down as one of the players dribbled, causing him, along with the rest of his teammates, to fall to the ground, causing the player with the ball to lose control of it, it was hilarious to him how weak these Europeans were, and supposedly they were elite level athletes too! The game didn't last that long finishing with a tremendously one sided score of 21-1.
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