This choice: Try to get the waitress's attention before she scoops you up! • Go Back...Chapter #10Vanilla waffle cone, topped with Wimps by: sneakyk   When you chose to shrink yourself, you knew from the start that the dynamics caused by your diminutive size would put you into situations where otherwise weaker creatures would become deadly predators. Squawking seabirds would engage in life-and-death hunts, with your physical and mental prowess being pitted against ravenous avian beaks in the court of natural law. Daring raids against giant enemy crabs. The hiking of an unaware rottweiler's leg threatening to send a vile flood upon whatever part of the beach you had claimed as home. Epic battles against hoards of ants that could flank and swarm you should you get careless.
Never in your wildest dreams, however, did you anticipate the prospect of being scared near to a panic at the presence of first grader girls. But your fears are nothing to dismiss as unfounded paranoia. You were discovered by a human who, affording you no more time or attention than your tiny form deserves, declared you to be a Wimps candy piece and sorted you as such.
You chose to raid the snack stand for treats, knowing full well that this would put you at risk of being devoured alongside said treats. Now you stand upon a pile of your WimpsTM brethren, your body one more crunch candy piece to be served and chomped into a million pieces. Now you are the mercy of both the law of nature-for, indeed, these girls are natural predators of sugary candy pieces- and the law of man-a twenty dollar bill is more than enough to purchase not only you, but a dozen of your peers as well.
There is only one way out of this, you think. To assert your humanity to the giant gods above. To reclaim your status as a sapient being, endowed with the same rights that the terrifying trio of gradeschool titans. You are a human...you are not to be bought and sold as food! You look up, seeing the snack stand's vendor holding a bright red serving spoon in her clutches, her face looking forward, your view of her head awkwardly skewed and dominated by her chin. She's not even focusing on the candy...she's focusing on the energetic and eager girls, who are jumping and squirming and chattering for their treats.
Undeterred, you get atop a pile of candy and cry out. "Hey! Down here! Look down here! I'm in the wimps candy container! I've been shrunk. I need your..." "AND I WANT CHOCOLATE AND... " "Hold on! I haven't gotten mine yet." "I'm just letting her know. " "MMM Cheesecake icecream is yummy. Why are you getting vanilla Suzie? It's soooo basic!" "CUZ it'll work better with gummy worms! " Your voice is effortlessly drowned out by the rampant chatter of the three girls, whose ice cream preferences are of far more importance than the negligible life of a failed snack thief.
You watch with dread as the scoop descends down, making landfall within scooping range of your tiny body. You intensify your shouts and desperately wave your arms at the serving lady, gazing up at both her face and at the well-manicured fingernails wielding the scoop. Her gaze is now turned directly towards you. She's seen you!
But seeing is not the same thing as noticing, and the look of utter indifference on her face at the sight of the scientific discovery of the decade is confirmation enough to know that your strategy has failed. If she is aware of your presence, she certainly doesn't care about it. With a sudden lunge forward, she shoves the serving spoon directly beneath you and lifts upwards, your body scooped up along with several 'other' candy pieces.
It took all of two seconds for her to scoop you up. Certainly not enough time for her to process that one of the candy pieces was waving up at her. You tumble off of your feet, landing on your back, as the spoon is hoisted skywards, you roll onto your front and turn to see the young titanesses standing side by side, each clad in swimming attire, each seeming almost unfathomably powerful in spite of their young age. The Asian girl eyes the Wimps with utmost interest, her hand holding tight upon the deadly weapon with which she has procured the right to end your life: a $20 bill.
You soon find yourself descending again, towards a waffle bowl the size of a stadium, holding a small mountain of vanilla icecream. Although not soft-serve, the icecream is visibly dampened, the intense heat of the sun's rays already beginning to melt the landscape-sized treat. three gummy worms fit to be compared to giant sandworms are curled around the edges of the ice cream mountain, with a third slotted near the peak. You feel a pit in your stomach as the serving spoon is quickly lowered down to the ice cream mountain below. Before you can respond, the cup is already close enough to the icecream where even should you choose to dive off of your own accord, you would merely fall into the waffle bowl below.
Without warning or fanfare, the server simply flicks the spoon towards the ice cream, knocking you into it at gut-wrenching speeds. You don't even have time to scream before you find yourself engulfed with an overwhelming agonizing coldness. Realizing that you've been applied to the ice cream as a snack, you desperately attempt to pry yourself loose from the swampy sticky ice cream mountain, to save yourself from this constant chilling pain. That effort is quickly quashed, however, as the server callously pats the Wimps candy pieces into the ice cream with the back of her serving spoon, lodging them part-way into ice-cold mountain to lower the chances of them spilling out.
Not quite done preparing the meal, the woman prepares the final topping. M&Ms. An avalanche of candy pieces easily larger than your entire being rains down upon the ice cream mountain, the landslide nearly as deafening as the giggles and cheers of the giant gradeschoolers. You manage to lift your face, your little teeth chattering, from the frigid sticky icecream mountain just in time to see a green M&M crashing down onto you. It strikes you straight in the head, rebounding off of you,as soon as it struck. You're left feeling dizzy and dazed, an ominous ringing sounding out in your ear. You're left to wonder, in your foggy state, if that impact alone was enough to cause you lasting cranial trauma.
You're left to languish in the overwhelming cold, too dazed and too well lodged to mount an escape attempt, as the waitress serves the third girl. Still able to look up, however, you see the asian girl's fingers descend downwards. She picks up the offending M&M and brings it up to her mouth. She sucks at the candy piece for a moment before crunching it between her teeth and opening her mouth back up. You can see the gigantic M&M torn cleanly in half, its armory shell no match for the girl's powerful teeth. She presses its exposed chocolate interior into one of her canines, rocking it back and forth to sample its flavor as the server finishes setting up the third waffle bowl of icecream. Another crunch fragments the M&M piece beyond recognition. An overwhelming obstacle to you, an inconsequential morsel to her.
Soon enough, the final bowl has been filled. Suzie offers up the twenty to the server, who gives them back a five and some coinage in return. The girl refuses the coinage, but takes the five and quickly hands it over to one of her friends, picking up a girly pastel pink spoon the size of a building with her spare hand.
And that is that. In the eyes of the human world, you are nothing but property. A snack, bought and paid for by Suzie an energetic but ultimately unthreatening girl to anyone else, but a godlike being who exudes an aura of authority, as if it is her divine right to break your body upon her teeth, much as she broke the M&M.
You are a Wimp, indeed. And Suzie is about to prove it. Her thunderous footsteps and the careless swinging of her hand rock your body and send the world of the beach into a near constant blur...but you still remain partially lodged against the sticky sweet ice cream. It won't be long before the girls arrive at whatever part of the beach they've set up base at, where they'll have freedom to focus entirely on chowing down on their treats until naught remains. Of course, judging by the way Suzie is licking her lips and wielding the spoon, you likely won't even have to wait that long for your struggle for survival to begin
A terrible chill of fear passes down your spine, distinct from the near numbing chill of the vanilla mountain. A life and death hunt between a predator and its natural prey has just begun. Only the predator is no seabird looking for a bug. It's a young girl hungering for a WimpTM, ready to crunch you into bits just like all the other candy pieces.
You try to devise a strategy, but whatever you choose, the girl's eating habits are likely of far greater import. Chance, it seems, will play a major factor... | Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
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