The VTOL is rising higher now, cresting through Earth’s atmosphere. If it weren’t for the advanced military hardware of the vehicle, we’d be frozen and popped like pressurized balloons up in the vacuum of space. Still, I can hardly deign to allow myself breath, with all that lies at stake now. We navigate between the thick ropes of black hair which stream down from my sister’s crown; each strand of hair is so thick now, it’s as if tunnels of sheer keratin and midnight-black stone are careening and crisscrossing on the ascent. Somehow, after close to an hour of careful dodging, the VTOL arrives at eye level with my mother and sister.

            They’re growing again, incredibly; odds are, they’ve been growing this entire time we’ve been trying to climb high enough in the plane to reach their mouths for dispersing the anti-pill. How large they are now, I could never say, but it’s got to be in the neighborhood of four thousand miles tall, give or take a few hundred. Earth’s core, surely, is being rattled and compressed by the mere weight of their curvy, plump hourglass bodies standing still on the crust.

            I hear the military personnel screaming at the operators to disperse the agent. I cross my fingers, still with my unblinking eyes pressed to the bulletproof glass: the only layer of pathetic, useless protection keeping us from being destroyed by my mother and sister. All it would take is a misplaced gust of an exhalation from Nicole’s lips, a chaotic flip of Brandy’s hair, a stray glob of spit, or a brush of a drifting fingertip. And we’d be pulverized at a molecular level within a half second.

            The chemical agent is spraying with a vengeance out the back of the VTOL. My brainchild, and our only hope to stop the destruction of the planet. I can’t believe that’s what it’s come to, where a matter of hours before, it seemed we might’ve contained the carnage to the loss of a single city. How naïve I was to believe. Had I know what was coming then, I might’ve simply dived off the rooftop so I wouldn’t have to witness what came next.

            My mother and sister are so large now, they’re not so much people as concepts, too large for my comprehension or grasp. I’m seeing the beautiful brown iris of my mother through the window, so wide that nations could fit through the portal of her pupil. I’m seeing my sister’s mouth spread apart in a toothy grin, her fingers brushing up against the bridge of her mountain nose as she speaks to my parent. Their voices have reached such enormous volumes and such low octaves, I literally can’t understand what they’re saying any longer; it only registers as a deafening hum in my ears.

            I can see, or at least I think I can see, the dispersed clouds floating toward the general coordinates of my sister and mother’s nostrils. Air currents easily consume the chemical storm-cloud in a single inhalation, without having ever noticed the white cloud or the comparatively microscopic military vehicle which delivered it.

            And we wait. With the weight of humanity on our shoulders, we hold position.

            If it’s working, it’s certainly not taking effect as instantaneously as the Giga Pill, because my mother and sister are just as giant and beyond understanding as before. They exist in a new plane of being now, it seems, above the minds of humanity or even the terrestrial orb upon which they now stand and apply their weight such that he very crust of the earth is splitting. There is nothing but them and the world.

            And probably, soon, no us, either.

            A gust of tremendous wind sends the VTOL spinning backward several miles upward, higher into space. I wonder if this is the moment our luck finally runs out and our vehicle tears open like a puny tin can in the harsh environment above earth. But we don’t, at least not yet. We’re still here, floating, without power and gravity, simply clinging to the cold steel of the seats and watching wide-eyed and in hollow disbelief at the final stage of my mother and sister’s domination of our fair planet.

            We can see the curvature of the earth now, from up here, surrounded by the spiraling whisps of hurricanes, tornadoes, and tsunamis the world over, which plague the remaining countries my family hasn’t yet used for food or orgasm. Brandy and Nicole stretch toward the heavens, arms spread wide, their breasts perkier and more stimulated than ever by the ascension. By now, their growth has become constant; there are no more spurts. They simply are growing. Becoming larger is their state of being, forever. I watch their bodies extend and cover more of the earth than not.

            A hairline crack like a thunderbolt splits down the center of the very planet itself. Fire and magma as nothing ever glimpsed comes spilling out from the center like a splintered gumball. And all the while, my mother and sister, hardly distracted by the loss of their home world, roll about contentedly, alternately wrapping their legs around in the fashion of horny cobras and pressing their lips together so hard they might be on the verge of eating one another’s ravenous tongues.

            What I watch next enters my brain in static images as our oxygen runs lower and lower. I no longer have the strength of will to process what I’m seeing. I’m only taking it into my brain and recognizing it as the truth, and nothing more or less.

            I watch the planet earth become two separate bodies of rock, in dialectic to the two wondrous female bodies which drape across them like archangels.

            I watch my mother and sister outgrow their shards of rock in short order, their legs and hands hanging lazily over the sides and dipping into the velvety dark of the cosmos.

            I watch them kiss a final time, looping their fingertips into one another’s miraculously titanic pussies, and then separate again.

            I watch my mother and sister, now each larger than the earth ever was, swim in every direction of their formless being like drunken ballet dancers suspended by streamers over the stage of all creation.

            I watch their jaws open back up as they circle around toward the now comparatively miniscule shards of the broken planet, tongues wagging, and deep, cavernous mouths gawping to receive.

            I watch the planet fade into the blackness of their humble lips and slurped into oblivion below, punctuated by victorious laughter and moans of undying sexual gratitude.

            And now, I believe, as the life fades out of my body in our vehicular grave, I can feel confident my mother and sister, for better or for worse, will be safe forever for all that may come to harm them in existence.

            A small victory, but I count it nonetheless.