Corby brought a pitcher of water to a table of teenagers before returning to the kitchen. He glanced at the clock and noted the time at 12:32. A quick scan around the kitchen revealed his co-worker who would cover his break was late to work.
Just before he left the kitchen to continue waiting on customers, Daniel burst through the back door. “Sorry” he grunted as the door slammed shut. Corby frowned, “Well I’m gonna check on one more table and then I’ll go on my break” he said without waiting for a reply.
He marched across the restaurant to where Mr. Smith had been seated, but found the table empty and the food untouched. As he looked around to see if the man was somewhere in the restaurant, his feet shifted, completely flattening the ant from earlier. Corby however didn’t notice the bug smashed under his shoe.
Corby figured Mr. Smith had some sort of emergency and had to leave the restaurant. He glanced out into the parking lot, but had no idea what the man’s car looked like.
Corby decided that if Mr. Smith wasn’t back by the time he clocked off for his break, it was his duty as a starving college student to keep the meal from going to waste!
---
Bryan slipped down the thread for the second time. “Augh!” he grumbled, his grip slipping. Looking down at his trembling limbs he grunted unhappily. His nervousness was getting the better of him. It had only gotten worse when Corby’s massive shoes had returned and he had witnessed the ant mercilessly obliterated without effort.
Now he had slipped back down to the floor. Deciding to take a breather, Bryan tries to ignore the pain starting to radiate all over his body. Just before he starts climbing again, Corby’s massive shoes return once more.
Bryan, slightly used to their place away from under the table gawks at them for only a few seconds before focusing on the thread in front of him. However behind him the shoes make more noise.
He spins around in time to see the massive footwear come crashing towards him while a gust of air from above signals Corby plopping into the booth.
“Ahhhh!” Bryan screams in terror, futilely putting his hands over his head. Corby’s movement stops, his massive shoes planted on either side of Bryan. The wall of the shoe is stained with grease and food, while the fabric and thread holding it together frays from age. Corby tilts his right foot, revealing a filthy sole crammed with crumbs of food and the recently unnoticed ant.
Bryan stares at the towering sole, frozen before he…
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