The Queen

Sunlight streaked through the velvety darkness of the bedroom. The Queen of England was sprawled out on her crimson-hued bed. Once a wealthy Egyptian heiress, she had married into England’s royal family. Her dark features made it clear that she was no Englander, but she was rich with charm and beauty and wealth, and so the people of Britain had embraced her. She still looked beautiful, and virile, with a regal face and thick curves. 

The Queen was fond of the Palace’s master bedroom. They called it the Red Room, and not without reason: the walls, sheets and carpet were all the same dark red, a tone which could be at once inviting and ominous. The ceiling was gilded marble, patterned into baroque designs. The room looked much as it had five hundred years earlier, and likely much as it would in another five hundred. Only one thing looked out of place: a wall-mounted flat-screen television, it’s sleek modern design contrasting with the ornate room. 

The room was spacious, but at first glance didn’t look particularly large: the bed was just the right size for the queen, and the room was just the right size for the bed. A closer look revealed a few curiosities, however: the lamps, the television remote, and the newspaper all looked comically small next to the queen, as if they were props from a dollhouse. Lying next to the queen, all but hidden under the covers, was a man, and not just any man: the King of England. He was nearly five feet tall, not small by any standards. Yet next to the Queen he looked no bigger than a doll.

The Queen sat up, the velvet sheets slipping off her huge breasts. They had been small once, at least for her size, when she was younger; but the spice had made them swell, and having a daughter had made them swell more. Now they were gigantic. On a slender frame they would have looked almost comically top-heavy, but the Queen’s wide hips did well to balance them out.

She reached over to the nightstand and picked up a tiny remote control between her fingers, exercising care not to crush it. She dropped the remote on top of her husband, who aimed it at the flat-screen TV and pressed the power button. Just like that, the TV turned on.

***

The TV showed a blonde newswoman sitting at a desk; the logo in the bottom-right of the screen showed that they were watching the BBC news. “And in America,”the newswoman said with a smile, “sweeping changes continue, as the senate passes one tinies’ rights bill after another. American tinies have been receiving important new rights and protections. Two years ago, America elected its first non-giantess president, who was also the first male president, Ted Hampton. Hampton recently signed a bill which made it a crime for anyone, even a giantess, to kill a citizen. Even the tallest woman will soon face fines, and potentially misdemeanor charges, for crushing or eating someone. 

Masculists and other men’s rights activists have hailed these changes as a victory, and a step in the right direction for both men and lowborn women. Some argue that it goes too far. One bill, introduced by Alaskan Senator and Governor Tara Zalin, aims to protect giantesses from criminal charges in certain situations. It would not be illegal for a giantess to kill a man if they were acting on, quote, ‘natural, healthy, violent urges,’ or where the man was quote, ‘asking for it.’ The bill would also make it legal for women to eat men in situations where they felt ‘distressed or hungry,’ and would protect giantesses in foot crushings with ‘potential accidentiality.’

We spoke with Tara Zalin earlier today. Here she is.”

An attractive, bespectacled middle-aged woman came on the screen, dressed in business casual and wearing a flag lapel pin. The camera was positioned near her feet, making her look as big as a skyscraper. She spoke with the folky twang of a midwesterner. “This is a terrible moment in American history, don’t ya know? Wealthy, powerful giantesses like me are job creators. We’re what make America great, not a bunch of five-footer welfare leeches living off the government dole. It’s painful to see one right after another taken away from us, in the name of ‘equality.’ The government is trying to say that I don’t even have the right to step on some America-hating liberal terrorists now and again? I think it’s a shame that those mini-nazis and the bleeding-hearts can’t just consider what it’s like to be a giantess. They’ll never know what it’s like to face criminal charges just because you accidentally stepped on a few hot dog venders on your way to the capital. It’s hard, don’t ya know? It’s all a bunch of flag-hatin', commie class warfare.

I’m not ashamed to say that I stand one hundred feet tall and weigh 300 tons. I’m the biggest, tallest, loudest, proudest, most All-American woman in all of Alaska. When I walk, the earth shakes n’ shivers like it’s made out of jello pie, and anyone under me is going to end up squished flat as a junebug on the fourth. And if I accidentally knock down a skyscraper every now and again, well that’s just the price of freedom, don't ya know?”

The newscaster came back on. “Now as the Spice becomes rarer and more expensive, true ‘giantesses’ are getting harder and harder to come by. This means that the privileged giantess class has less political clout than they once did. With the giantess’ influence fading, many have asked if similar laws will be passed in Britain. The King, however, has yet to speak for or against such measures. Do you think they should pass a tiny's rights bill, Kevin?”

The camera panned down, revealing a tiny man next to the female newscaster. He was half as tall as his female co-worker, and stood in front of a similarly tiny desk. “Oh, Shirley, I think that men deserve the same rights as anyone. I know I’d feel that much safer if I didn’t have to worry about being crushed by some fifty-foot woman every time I walked to work. What do you think, Shirley?”

“I think that Tara had a point: we need to look at the other side of things. What about the giant women? Did you ever stop and consider how powerful it makes those women feel to be able to crush a few men now and again? I mean, I know how expensive the Spice is, but I’d like to have enough money to be a proper giantess some day. I’m not saying I’d want to crush men often, or anything, but it would be nice coming home from a long day of work and just feeling a few of you guys squish under my feet, you know? You know, Kevin, you look nice and squishy.”

“Oh Shirley, you kidder.”

“I’m not kidding. And another issue: scientists recently developed a way to alter the Red Spice. This chemically-modified version still causes massive growth, but minimizes the sexual and homicidal urges that often result from using the Red. Already, some are calling to make the original spice illegal, stating that it frequently leads women to perform acts of violence on unsuspecting men. Wealthy women have struck back, saying that they worked hard for their wealth, and should be able to enjoy it however they choose.’

I’m Shirley, and this is my squishable co-host Kevin, with the BBC morning news. Up next is the world’s highest-rated show, The Big Life with Princess Lizzie.” And with that, they turned off the TV.

***

"America's going to hell in a handbasket. I worry about our daughter, being over there with all those freaks." The queen looked down at her husband. “I don’t like that Kevin man--too uppity. Have him fired. Or killed. Better yet, have him fired, then killed.”

“Of course, love. Anything you want.”

“What’s happening in America right now is an abomination. This men’s rights craze is getting out of control. There are half a million protesters in front of the Palace, right now, for Goddess’ sake! As the King, the... ruler of Britain, you need to put up a strong front. Make it clear that you’re not willing to upset tradition. After all, tradition is the only reason they still allow male heirs to rule in Britain--it’s the only reason a little man like you is able to be acting King. And you like being in charge of everything, don’t you? Ruling Britain all by your little self?”

“It is nice being able to make all the big decisions myself, love.”

“Of course. So you’re going to go on the tellie, like a good king, and you’re going to tell everyone that we’re not passing any civil rights bills. In fact, we’ll pass a constitutional amendment making it clear that those little cockroaches are to be always subservient to their betters. Do you understand?”

“Honey, you know that I believe in civil rights...”

The Queen leaned over on her side. Her pillowy breasts fell against the bed, pinning the King. Smothered under the weight of her soft breasts, he struggled to get out from under her. The king tried to call out, but his screams were muffled.

“Oh? I’m sorry, am I smothering you with my tits? Sometimes I forget how big they are. I really need to be more careful with my little husband, how careless of me. I suppose I should probably turn onto my back, before I suffocate my precious little king... Is that better? Now, you were saying?”

“I... *gasp* was... *gasp* saying... that I believe in civil rights... But what I believe isn’t as important as what my wonderful, beautiful, giant wife wants. I’ll do anything to make you happy, honey-buns.”.

“Good. Those protesters have some sort of a stage erected in the streets, where they spout their crazed beliefs from a microphone. Channel 4 News is showing the whole thing on live TV: they’re calling it a ‘historic rally.’ I call it a joke in bad taste. Unfortunately they’re too close to the Palace for me to call in a drone strike, and I haven’t called in the riot police yet. I have some other plans. Big plans. We’re going to march out to those protesters, and show them and the media that the Queen is still in charge.”

“You mean King, don’t you honey?”

“Sure I do,” she said with a condescending smile. “Sure I do.”

Chapter 1: Princess Liz

Meanwhile, in Los Angeles...

He drove the forklift carefully, careful not to spill the container he was carrying. To his right he could see the Princess’ immense outdoor pool, the water reflecting bright sunlight and stretching on for half a mile in each direction. From here, it looked as vast as the ocean. He drove along the wide concrete platform around the pool. Now and again he had to swerve around huge craters in the concrete. They were dotted in two rows, one of them every hundred feet or so. Each shallow crater was shaped and indented like a woman's foot. They looked like footprints in the sand, yet each of them was as wide and long as a schoolbus. The driver noticed a cement truck by one of the craters, filling the crater with fresh concrete.

The forklift carried a huge cylinder, shaped like a coffee cup, nearly seven feet high and three feet wide. It looked too big for the platform. The cylinder was filled to the brim with steaming-hot liquid, which splashed over the edges as he swerved the truck. 

The princess was still quite a ways off, yet even with the huge cylinder blocking his view, the driver could see her long legs in front of him, stretched out along the poolside. She was lying down now, her legs crossed, her toes pointed towards him. Judging by her posture, she was relaxed. They were the legs of a young woman, delicate and smooth; yet they were as thick and long as ancient redwoods.

The forklift driver came to a stop just in front of her chest. It was a fully-sized forklift, yet next to her it looked like a small toy, no bigger than something you might find in a happy meal. The cylinder, in fact, was actually an upscaled cup of coffee, prepared specially for the Princess; to her, the coffee was only a small. 

The man got out of the forklift. He was wearing a stained white T-shirt and worn blue jeans. He stood next to the giant cup. He hesitated at first. He was a recent hire. He’d seen the Princess on her reality show, of course, but never in person. Now, there she was, right in front of him, wearing nothing but a skimpy black bikini. The forklift driver looked down at the pavement, and noticed how the cement had cracked and cratered around where she now laid down. 

***

Even lying down the princess towered above him like an ancient Roman goddess, the kind they’d told him about in Sunday school. It was strange to see a person that huge. He could accept seeing a building that size, sure, or a mountain, or some great statue. But here she was, looking as large as a skyscraper. 

Watching her shows, he’d wondered if she could be as big as they said she was: could anyone really be three hundred feet tall, or weigh eight thousand tons? But looking at her now, he had no doubt: she looked even bigger. She was lying on her side, facing towards him. You could see just how stick-thin she was, with her narrow hips and tiny shoulders. She was beautiful and young, just a few months over eighteen years old. She had full, yet perky breasts, which her black bikini top showed off nicely. 

***

The driver knew all about Elizabeth, as did most everyone else by this point. A British princess, Elizabeth left England on her eighteenth birthday. She traveled to to America on a cargo ship, landing in New York City. Immediately upon arriving, she decided that she wanted to see the Statue of Liberty.

Elizabeth climbed up onto the platform where the statue stood. The hollow platform could barely support her immense weight. She stood back-to-back with the statue. The Statue of Liberty reached 300 feet above the platform, yet the statue itself was only 150 feet tall; the statue stood on top of a wide column, which was as tall as the statue was. Next to her, the statue looked almost pathetic, like a child who tried to look tall by standing on top of a chair. 

While tourists watched, and recorded her on their cameraphones, Elizabeth played around with the statue. She mugged for the camera, smiling and laughing and posing, giving the statue bunny ears and cupping its breasts. She pressed her lips against the cold stone lips of the statue, while tourists inside the statue’s head snapped photos of her.Elizabeth hugged the statue. It was then that the foundations of the platform began to shake. And then, for a single moment, she leaned against the statue, pushing against it with her arms.

Just like that, the statue started to lean. The supports below the statue buckled and collapsed. The huge stone pillar that held the statue suddenly sank into the ground. The statue itself toppled over, smashing against the platform and breaking in half. Everyone inside the statue was killed instantly. The top half of the statue came crashing onto the ground, landing on the crowd of tourists below. Then Elizabeth herself lost her balance, falling head-first towards the ground. She toppled down onto the platform, her knees breaking through the stone as if it was sand. Dozens of people screamed out as she came down upon them, but it was too late to run.She hit the ground with the impact of a bomb, crushing dozens. Her every body part left a crater in the dirt.

Soon the media had swarmed Liberty Island. They were calling it the worst disaster since 9/11. Hundreds had been killed, maybe more, and a famous landmark was destroyed. The injured were being treated, though it was clear most of them wouldn’t survive. And there, in the midst of all the chaos, was Elizabeth.

She was sitting on the ground, dirty and tired. Reporters interviewed her about the incident. The princess said “This all really sucks. I skinned my knee really bad, and now I’m all gross and covered in mud. They really should have built that statue better, and not made it so hollow and everything. And I guess I’m sorry for squishing all those tiny people under me. I can be such a ditz sometimes, you know! Oopsie!” 

CNN and Fox News had round-the-clock coverage the of the accident, which they called ‘The Day Liberty Died.’ The final body count was 548. Initially, reports focused on the tragedy of the horrific, shocking event. But over the course of the next few days, the focus shifted to the Princess herself. “It was a disaster,” one commentator said, “but can we really blame an innocent girl for tripping? And you’ve got to love the way she said that. ‘Oopsie!’” 

The ‘Oopsie video became a viral hit on youtube. Within a few days, everyone had forgotten about the horrific accidents. Instead, they were busy obsessing over its perpetrator. “Oopsie!” said a front-page tabloid headline, “is this clumsy Princess the new big media darling?” Another tabloid, which a picture of Liz tripping on the statue of Liberty, had her bikini blurred out. The headline read, “Princess Liz Slips Nip in Epic Slip! Sexy pictures inside! See the body that’s so hot, 548 tourists were dying to see it!” Star magazine’s cover article read, “Ditzy Dame Disaster! Why this princess is a smashing hit in America!”

Not everyone was a fan of Elizabeth. Some, like the actress and short persons advocate Angelina Jolie, criticized Elizabeth. Jolie called the princess a “royal monster,” criticizing her “shocking callousness, insensitivity and even indifference to the hundreds of deaths she caused. She’s less like a princess and more like Godzilla.” 

A crew of E! news TV reporters approached Elizabeth, questioning her about Jolie’s criticisms. Elizabeth broke into tears. “I’m just like anyone else, and it hurts when mean people like Jolie say such mean things. I wish people would just try and understand what it’s like to be me. All I want is to be really rich and popular and loved.” She then ate the E! news reporting crew, grabbing them, tossing them into her mouth and swallowing them whole. “Sorry,” she said, immediately after swallowing the last one, “I’m sorry, I get so hungry when I’m sad... Those reporters tasted gross anyway..” 

***

Footage of a crying Elizabeth quickly brought public support to her side. Shepard Smith called Jolie’s words an “outrage,” and said that such comments could “hurt Britain’s relationship with America.” Jolie apologized for her comments, saying “I didn’t even think about the Princess’ emotions when I made those statements... She’s a wonderful, young woman, and I never should have talked about her like that.” The President said in a public statement that “Princess Elizabeth deserves to be greeted with warmth, not the harsh words of detractors. The princess is worth her weight in gold, all 8,529 tons of it. She should be treated like a British national treasure, which America is lucky enough to have on loan. Active immediately, I now grant her full diplomatic immunity, and impunity for any and all future destruction that she caused.”

All the attention made the princess even more famous. Within one week, she was on the cover of every tabloid in America. Within three weeks Elizabeth had her own reality show on ABC, called Lizzie’s Big Life. It quickly became the highest rated show on TV, and was soon the highest-rated show in TV history. That year she was declared Sexiest Woman Alive by Esquire and People Magazine. Time declared her Person of the Year. She was famous not just in America and Britain, but across the world. 

Her brand was taking off. Soon Elizabeth also had her own personal clothing, perfume, and underwear lines, with more in the works. Combined, her weekly royalty checks soon rivaled the Gross Domestic Product of Iceland. 

Lizzie didn’t sit on her rapidly expanding fortune. She purchased a fifty square mile wildlife refuge near Beverly Hills, paving over the forests that had previously been there. With some money from the show, and a few weeks of allowance money, she started building what was to be the biggest house in America.

It was an extravagant palace of a home, tailored to her huge stature, with a pool that was half a mile across. The house was still under construction, but the gigantic pool had been finished several days earlier. And now she sat by that same pool, relaxing and tanning in the sun.

***

“Elizabeth, your grace,” said the forklift driver, “I’m honored to serve you your drink: a grande caramel swirl cream cappuccino with two percent milk, extra foam, and exactly twelve ounces of raspberry flavoring, served extra hot, just like you like.

Suddenly the princess got up, her movements shaking the hard ground beneath her. She reached out and violently snatched the small man in front of her; his body was enclosed completely by her hand. “I didn’t ask for two percent milk, I asked for half skim and half whole!” She threw him down carelessly. He landed square in the giant coffee cup, plunging down into the boiling-hot coffee.

The man screamed as he bobbed up and down in the steaming-hot water. The princess looked away from him in annoyance. “You’re being so annoying! First you get me the wrong drink, and then you scream like a little baby. This is supposed to be my special day...” She sat up. “Will you stop?” Her hand came slamming down on the forklift, crushing it as if it was made of tinfoil. The coffee cup spilled over, sending the man out onto the ground. He gasped for air, his body red and burnt. The princess went on, “All I wanted to do was have a nice, relaxing time at the pool, without any jerks ruining my day... is that really too much to ask for?” 

His whole body felt burnt and tender, like after getting a bad sunburn. The driver looked over at the cool water of the enormous swimming pool. It looked like salvation. He started towards it, running as best as he could on his sensitive feet. As he ran, he yelled out, “I’m sorry, I just--” but before he could finish his sentence, the back of Elizabeth’s immense hand came down on him like a giant hammer, putting a crater in the sidewalk. It looked like a bomb had struck. The driver was crushed like a bug, the gooey remains of his body sticking both to the ground and Elizabeth’s hand. 

“No one is allowed in my pool without my permission! And now your gross blood and entrails are all over my hand... eww... Maids, clean this off! And where’s Ted? Somebody get Ted! The Emmy’s are tonight, and I still need to get ready!” 

***

By the time Ted arrived, Lizzie’s hand was spotless: no doubt thanks to the dozen or so maids kneeled down on the cement, who were now doing their best to clean the poolside with their blood-soaked towels. It took a lot of people to take care of someone like Lizzie. She was laying there, facing Ted, eyes closed.

Ted approached her slowly. He knew his way around her moods, and he could tell she wasn’t in a great one at the moment. He tugged on his tie to straighten it out, pulled on the hem of his business suit, pushed back his glasses. He was slightly built, barely over thirty, with a face that was neither handsome nor ugly. 

Ted had spent the last few years working for Lizzie, as her agent, accountant, personal assistant and procurer. Whenever Lizzie wanted something, Ted’s job was to make it happen, and Ted was very good at his job. Because of this, Ted was one of the few people Lizzie genuinely cared about or respected. She needed Ted, and both of them knew it. 

***

Elizabeth reached her left hand behind her. With one hand, she unhooked the back of her bikini top. She slipped it off effortlessly, showing her full yet perky breasts. If she was a normal size, they would have been a large C-cup, but she was over three hundred feet tall, and her cup size consisted of a few dozen Z’s. Elizabeth tossed her black bra into the air. It landed just in front of Ted. Each cup was easily big enough to envelop a midsize car.

“Hey Liz,” he said, standing in her long shadow.

“Hi Ted. Just sunbathing. Trying to relax,” she said, opening her eyes and looking warmly at Ted. “Didn’t want any tanlines.”

“I’m sorry I got tied up, business call. We don’t have long before the Emmy’s.”

“I’m nervous... what if I don’t win the Emmy?” 

“You shouldn’t worry, you’re a shoe-in. Oh, and some good news: Kim Kardashian won’t be there, she’s doing some kind of herbal regimen thing in Africa. I know you had some kind of a tiff before, and... yeah.” 

She looked down at Ted, smiling. “Good. That ugly bitch can stay there for all I care. Is my dress ready?”

“Yeah, they just finished putting it together; It took a those seamstresses almost two weeks to sew the thing. It’s a little black sleeveless number, just like you asked for, I’m sure it will look amazing on you. We should get dressed pretty soon.” 

“Anything else?”

“Uh, just one thing. Umm, Liz?” Ted looked down at the maids, who were still busy cleaning blood off the cement.

“Yeah?”

“You really need to start treating your employees better, Liz, . I know they make mistakes sometimes, but you’ve gone through so many lately...”

“I know, I know. I was just stressed out, you know, with the Emmys and everything... And then this forklift guy messes up my coffee order, and you just know it would be like three hours before they got another cup ready. I got so upset I smooshed him with my hand. I need to stop getting so annoyed about that kind of thing. And now I’ll need to buy a new forklift, and you’ll need to find a new forklift driver...”

“It’s not a big deal, the drivers are pretty cheap to hire. I’ll send a standard letter of apology to his family. Anyway, let’s get you suited up, and be careful not to slip on that blood. You’ve got a big night tonight.”

Last-Minute Preparations

 

“Stupid heels… They’re…too… tight…” Elizabeth struggled to stuff her feet into her new heels. Around her feet scrambled dozens of tiny garment workers. They were older women, all of them Asian, most short and squat and wrinkled. Each doing their best to adjust the shoes, toying with the small straps and laces along the sides of the shoes. A few were on top of the heels, holding themselves up with the same straps they were trying to adjust. A few more stood below the heels’ arches, using tools to make last-minute adjustments to the soles. They looked like insects, swarming around high-heeled shoes as big as a school bus. They were focused on their work, but from time to time they would glance upward, gazing at the princess with a mix of nervous apprehension and awe. 

The princess fidgeted with her feet, trying to squeeze into the tight shoes. Each movement, insignificant as it was to her, sent the small workers reeling and flailing like sailors in a storm. “Come on,” she said, “I need to get these shoes on for the Emmy’s. Get under my heels and push up from below. Come on, seriously, do you not speak English?” The women looked at each other, then reluctantly got under the arches of her heels. To them, it was as big as a proper archway; even near the heel, few of them could even reach up to the top of the arch. They did their best, pushing upward against the heel like the princess had asked, as pitifully insignificant as their efforts were.

“Come on… almost…” She shoved, and her right foot went into her heel. But it was the left one that was being difficult. She pushed again, dragging her heels back and forth a few feet below the ground. 

The garment workers did their best to avoid being crushed underneath. One of them, though, felt her pants’ leg trapped, pinched between the cement floor and the sole of the huge shoe. She struggled to get free, tugging as hard as she could on her pant leg. Then, suddenly, it came loose; the unexpected force sent her flying back. She fell onto her back, knocking over three others. As they struggled back to their feet, they heard the princess say, “Almost got it!” The heel dragged back one more time, pushing against the ground with incredible force. The cement cracked, sending fractures that branched out like spiderwebs. The four women struggled to get up, but they were old and frail, and the heel was moving quickly. 

***

It caught the womens’ legs first, pinching hard against the ground, instantly flattening them. They flailed with their arms and legs, but it was no use; the heel kept coming back, huge and implacable and indifferent, like some huge piece of industrial machinery. The other workers tried to help them up, but it was too late; the four women were already caught beneath the heel. It kept moving towards them, pushing against the ground, and reducing their bodies to a thin red smudge on the pavement. The women screamed, until they had nothing left to scream with. The heel pushed and pushed, crushing the women into nothing.

“Yes! Thank God, the stupid thing is on!” Elizabeth looked down at her feet. She noticed the terrified workers below her, and then the thick red streaks on the ground. “Oh no! Oh no! This is absolutely horrible!”

“What’s wrong?” Said Ted, putting down his copy of the Wall Street Journal.

“Ted, I...” She looked like she was holding back tears. 

“What’s wrong, Liz? Do the shoes not fit right?”

“It’s just that… I got blood all over my new heels! Now what am I going to wear to the Emmy’s? Stupid old women!” She looked down at a few garment workers that were huddled together near her left foot. In an instant, she lifted her foot up, and brought it down on them. Blood splattered out around the sides of her heel.

“Liz, stop that! You’re going to get more blood all over your heels!”

The garment workers were running away now, charging off in all directions, as fast as their short legs would send them. 

“You’re right, Ted. It’s just that I want everything to be perfect for the big night. Do I look okay?”

***

Ted looked her over, starting at her feet and craning his neck back to look at her face. She was wearing a short black dress, tight-fitting and strapless, that perfectly accented her curves. Her long legs seemed to stretch on forever, reaching up to her hips, which flared out just enough. From below, her breasts jutted out like thick mounds of land, making it impossible to see her neck. Her cleavage was deep, almost too deep, but Ted wasn’t going to complain.

“You look incredible. Now… Oh right. I’ll get some maids to clean the blood and entrails off your heels, then you should be ready to go. Actually, you know what? Just leave them like that. It says, ‘I’m a princess. Oh, I stepped on some garment workers? Yawn. Now get out of my way, or I’ll step on you too.’ It’s feisty, arrogant, feminist, sexy. It’s a new look for you: bloody heels, we’ll call it. Actually, do you want to just go ahead and step on a few more of those garment workers? They’re temp workers, so they’re not covered by insurance.”

“Sure!” Elizabeth looked over the remaining garment workers. They were huddled fearfully behind a small car, nearly a hundred feet away. Elizabeth walked over towards them. With each of her steps the ground shook with a deep rumble, the concrete impacting beneath the weight of her feet. In two long strides, she was standing above them. She raised her right foot, then brought it down hard on top of them. With one step, she crushed the car and the workers, leaving a deep crater shaped like the bottom of her heels. In the center of the crater was what remained of the car, a hunk of twisted metal crushed thin as a pancake. The garment workers fared no better. Blood was now splattered along the sides of Elizabeth’s giant black heels. 

***

“Yeah!” Ted said, craning his head back to look up at her, “I’m loving this confident attitude. No apologizing, no feeling sorry that you just killed a bunch of old ladies. It’s like your every move is saying, ‘I’m the princess. I’m big and tall and rich and famous and I can do whatever I want.’”

“Well, I am big and tall and rich and famous, aren’t I? And I do whatever I feel like.”

“That’s it! Just own it. Own the power, the size, everything. Keep up that attitude, and our ratings might get even higher! Now it’s a long walk to North Hollywood from here along the Large Womens’ Walking Path…”

“The Walking Path? That gross, bumpy, dirty backroad? With my brand new heels? No way!”

“Then how are you going to get to the Emmy’s?”

She paused for a second. “I’ll take the highway.”

“Are you kidding? Girls like you aren’t allowed on the normal people highways, Liz. You know that. Besides, you’d kill thousands!”

“So I have to walk on some icky dirt road like I’m a second-class citizen? Weren’t you just saying that I can do whatever I want? And that you want me to do whatever I want?”

“I guess… I mean, you do have diplomatic immunity… Hopefully that includes lawsuits. Hmm… You know, I kind of like the idea. This could be big. I can see the headlines: ‘Giantess Diva Princess Liz Stomps through Highway to get to Emmys! Thousands killed!’ There’d be full network coverage for weeks, talking about it… This could be bigger than the Statue of Liberty incident. Hell, this could be bigger than 9/11!”

“You think so? I mean, I just wanted to take the highway so I don’t get dirt on my new heels. But yeah, that works. I really don’t care if I step on a bunch of little people.”

“There you go! And you know, I’m thinking: camera phones, everyone’s got camera phones now. We’ll have tens of thousands of people videotaping this, recording every moment as your huge feet flatten one car after another. Then we get someone to edit the footage together, and just like that, we’ve got the next big monster movie! We could license it, make it the sequel to Cloverfield, or a gritty reboot of Godzilla, or…” Ted noticed that Liz was glaring down at him. “I mean, not that you’re a monster or anything. You’re a beautiful, gentle young woman. But still…”

“Well, I should probably be going.”

“Yeah, just take Santa Monica, than go North on the 101. Big, wide highway, tons of cars, you can’t miss it. I’ll just call my wife and tell her to take the long way home. Now good luck! Break a leg! Or break some legs!”

“Aren’t you going to come?” She looked down at him with a sad expression. “Don’t you want to come with me?”

“I’d love to, Liz. But I told my wife I’d be home an hour from now, and I…” Ted noticed that Liz was tapping her left heel impatiently. He remembered what those heels had done to the garment workers just a little earlier. “Of course I want to come! It’s just that I’m not sure how you’d carry me there. You don’t have any pockets, I’m sure you don’t want to hold me in your hand the whole time, and…” 

Liz bent down in front of Ted. She reached her hand out to him, her giant fingers easily wrapping around him, enveloping him. Ted could see little of the world beyond her huge hands, but he felt butterflies in his stomach, and knew that he was being lifted up. “Here,” her soft voice boomed. Her hand opened, and Ted felt fingers grabbing him by the back of his shirt. Ted heard his shirt starting to tear. “Oops, sorry!” she said. And then she set him down. Ted found himself resting between her gargantuan breasts, his arms hanging over the top of her dress. 

He looked to his sides, staring at the enormous mounds of soft flesh that pressed against his body. “I don’t think my wife will be happy when she sees me on the news.”

“I don’t care. Now careful, don’t fall. It’s a long-way down.”

The Wrecking Crew

“This traffic sucks,” said the man who was driving the car, “but that’s the 101 for ya. At least we’re heading South. Northbound traffic is gridlocked like crazy.”

“You should try driving faster.” said the man in the baseball hat. “The party starts in like five minutes. I’m ready to throw down, just like the good old days. The official reunion of the Wrecking Crew, right?” Witness the ‘Wrecking Crew.’ Three friends, once inseperable in high school, but life had scattered them to the four winds. Here they were, together for the first time in years. Here they were, stuffed together in a cramped budget sedan, on their way to what they hoped would be a memorable night. And indeed, it would be... though perhaps not in the way they would expect. Because things don’t always go how you expect in... The Giantess Zone.

“Oh, goddamn it. Really?” The driver slammed onto the breaks just in time. In a moment, the semi-truck in front of them had suddenly stopped. In an instant, traffic all around them came to a complete halt. Ahead of them was a sea of stationary cars, stretching on as far as the eye could see. Not that they could see much of it, though, with a wide semi-truck stopped right in front of them. Above them was an overpass, which at least provided some protection from the heat. The overpass bridge crossed above the highway, carrying cars across the 101. “Damn it,” said the driver, “there must be a wreck ahead. Probably a bad one, judging from this mess. Well, so much for getting there on time.”

“You’re always so negative, man,” said the fat one in the stained shirt. “This is an adventure. This is an excuse to get to know each other, have some fun… *crack* Pop open a few beers…”

“Goddamn it,” said the driver, “did you just open a beer in my car? You know that’s a felony, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, like the cops are going to pull us over now. Just relax. Chill. Enjoy life for a change. Come on, this is the official reunion tour of The Wrecking Crew.”

***

“Whatever, just… hold on. I’m going to see what’s going on up ahead.” The driver opened his door and got out of the car. He looked ahead. Nothing but waves of tightly-packed immobile cars, stretching up ahead past the bend in the road. Traffic had come to a dead stop in both directions. He got back in the car.

“See anything?”

“Cars, lots of them. Not much else.”

“See, you need to stop worrying so much. Just take it easy. At least we’re under the overpass, so the car should stay nice and cool. Sit back, relax, breathe in the glorious fresh air, and the wonderful… hey, what’s that guy doing? Is he trying to climb the concrete wall?”

They looked out through the window. The highway was fenced in on either side by twelve foot high concrete walls. They were tall and thick, built to keep the highway noise out of nearby neighborhoods, and stop drunk drivers from plowing into backyards. They were sheer walls, not something you could expect to climb. And yet there somebody was, jumping and clawing at the wall like a drunken squirrel.

“Crazies. L.A. is like a vortex for them. Just sucks them in like a black hole. Just last week, I… Wait, what the hell? Look at all these people walking on the goddamn highway. Like I was saying, crazies. Hey, get back in your cars, assholes!”

***

There were just a few of them at first, doing their best to squeeze between the tightly-packed cars. Most were walking at a hurried, almost frantic pace. Here and there more people stepped out of their cars, and started to walk or run away. 

“Okay, this is weird. I’ve never seen people run like that. Like rats from a fire…”

“’Rats from a fire?’ Are you serious? Who talks like that?”

“I do, apparently. This is creeping me out. I’m going to get out and see what the hell is going on.”

“This is weird,” said the one in the hat. “Something’s going down. I’m recording this on my new iPhone, This shit is going on youtube!”

The driver stepped out of the car. Hundreds of people were running along the highway, some moving with stoic determination, others frantic and half-crazed. “Does anyone know what the hell is going on?”

“It’s her!” yelled a man as he ran past.

“’Her’? What do you mean ‘her’?” He backed up against his car as another man ran past him. He felt the car vibrating, and then he remembered something: The keys were in his pocket. The car was turned off.

The highway was awash with noise, even with the cars stopped: horns honking, engines rumbling, people yelling. But over the noise, he heard something else in the distance, slow and rhythmic. Each time it was a boom, followed by a deep rumble, like some distant colossus taking a step. Then another, a second later. And another. And another. Each time he could feel the ground shake ever so slightly.

***

He looked ahead, to the South, but he couldn’t see very far: the road curved not too far ahead, and there were tall buildings to the side. And then he saw her, emerging from behind a distant skyscraper. It was a woman—no, a giantess. She wore a short black strapless dress. She was young and blonde and beautiful, and utterly immense, in a way that made it difficult for him to grasp the sheer enormity of her scale.

She was on the highway, he realized, and she was walking towards them. She towered over the highway, making the cars below her look like small children’s toys. He could see her feet now, clad in high heels. Each of her feet was nearly two lanes wide. The scale of the destruction soon became apparent. One step, and the front of her shoes flattened two small cars, her heel piercing through a third. Another step, and she crushed the back of a semi-truck. The cars crinkled as if they were made of tinfoil; the people, he imagined, didn’t fare much better. Even the concrete sank and cracked below her. 

A panicked mob ran between the cars, doing their best to flee away from her. There must have been hundreds of them, maybe more. They were trying to outrun her, but it was little use. The giantess was making little effort to hurry. Her pace was relaxed, yet, her long legs gave her an enormous stride, letting her easily outrun the crowd. Soon she had nearly caught up with the bulk of them. The giantess paid the tiny people little heed. She merely kept walking, each footstep crushing people and cars together, as indiscriminately as some force of nature. With each step, and a dozen people were pounded into the pavement. With each step, more metal was crushed and twisted, more bodies eviscerated. 


***

The driver ran back to his car, waiting where he left it under the overpass. He opened the car door and looked at his friends. “Well, it’s a fucking giantess.”

“What?” said the hat, “On the highway? You gotta be kidding. You know they have a special path made for them and everything, right?” 

“Hey man,” said the fat one, “enough of this separate but equal crap. A giantess has every bit as much right to use the highway as you or I do.” 

“Sure,” said the driver, “except when I use the highway, I don’t crush semis into pancakes.”

“Good point. So what are we talkin’ anyway? A twenty footer, a thirty footer...” 

“Bigger.”

“Fifty? A hundred?”

“Bigger.”

“How big are we talking?”

“Two hundred feet tall from the sight of it. At least.”

“What?” said the guy in the baseball cap, who was busy recording the back of a truck with his iphone. “No one’s that big. Even Angelina isn’t that big. Kim Kardashian is out of town doing some kind of a traditional medicine coffee enema thing. Heard it on E!. And I really don’t see Julia Roberts or Jennifer Aniston rampaging through downtown L.A. Are you messing with us?”

“Just get out of the car and look for yourselves.”

***

They opened the door. The fat one stared at her in disbelief. “Oh. Well Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Who is that? I can almost place her... Wait! Oh my god that’s Liz! Princess Liz! From the show!”

A man who was running past came to a sudden stop upon hearing the name. “Princess Liz? From the Big Life? I watch that show every day! Hey everyone, turn around! Princess Liz is here!”

A few more people stopped running. “Oh my God,” said a short blonde woman, “really? She’s like my inspiration. I never thought I’d see her in person. This is awesome. I’ll just get out my camera phone.”

“Princess Liz?” said another. “Oh my god I’m livetweeting this whole thing! Guess who I saw I.R.L.,” he said out loud to himself, “Princess Liz! Crushng cars now n coming 2 us! ”

Even more people stopped and stared. A congregation was starting to form under the overpass. 

***

“She’s even more beautiful in person,” said one man. “I remember the first time I ever saw her, after she stepped on the statue of liberty. It was just... so... beautiful...”

“It’s so inspiring,” said the blonde woman, “seeing her like this. It just reminds every woman that they could be like that someday. I may only be five foot three. But some day, if I hit it big, maybe won the Powerball... I could be the one stepping on tiny people. Pathetic, poor tiny people, like future giant me used to be.” The short woman’s eyes were closed; she made exaggerated stomping motions with her feet.

“Enough,” said the driver, “we need to get out of here. She’s getting closer. Look!”

The giantess was staring down, seemingly at her own breasts; she said something, too quietly to hear so far away, then started again. She looked at the ground. She looked at a dense group of people, then stomped down hard, sending a shockwave that knocked over cars thirty feet away. She found another dense group nearby, and brought her foot down upon them. Then another, and another. She was no longer indifferent to the destruction around her; she was actively seeking to cause it. She kicked a semi-truck, effortlessly throwing it thirty feet into the air. It rolled sideways along the ground, crushing cars and crowds before it tumbled to a stop.

The giantess stopped, bringing her hands up to her face. For a moment he thought she was going to throw her hands out wildly and let out some terrible roar. Instead, she did something completely unexpected: she giggled playfully, covering her face with embarrassment. Then she continued on. She was almost to the overpass. She was almost to them.

“Take me, Liz! Take me!” said an overweight man under the overpass.

“Eat me!” said a hispanic man. “I love you princess! Eat me!” 

“Okay,” the driver said with a sideways glance, “let’s just ignore those guys. We need to go. Any second now, she’s going to crush this overpass.”

“Maybe we’ll be safe under here,” said his friend in the baseball hat, looking up at the overpass.

“Nah, no way. Did you see what she did to those cars? Come on, we need to go!”

***

She approached the overpass, which was empty save for a single abandoned tanker truck sitting on top. To her, the bridge was scarcely above ankle-high. She could have stepped over it easily. Instead, after hesitating for a moment, she brought her foot down upon the bridge. 

“Eat me!” the fat man and the hispanic man called out in unison.

A voice came down from above, beautiful as an angel, powerful as a goddess. “Eww! I’m not eating you, you perverts! You’re fat, and you’re a Mexican! Gross!”

“Take me,” said the crazy blonde woman, “take me! I want to be you! I want to be--”

“You’re all weird!” screamed Liz. “Get away from me!” 

Liz’s enormous foot came down on the overpass, knocking over the support structure in the middle. In an instant the entire bridge fell in, a hundred tons of concrete and rebar falling down upon the dozens of people below. “I love you Elizab--” the blonde woman yelled, before a concrete slab the size of an elephant came down upon her. “Eat me! Eat muu--aah!” screamed the fat man. Liz’s huge foot slammed down, the toe of her shoe coming down against the concrete with the force of a bomb. The man’s body burst like a blood-filled water balloon. 

The driver managed to avoid the worst of it. He was standing almost to the side of the overpass. A small slab of concrete, the size of a baseball, hit him in the face, knocking him down. A larger slab, the size of a soccer ball, landed on his right leg. He was too shocked to feel the pain, but he realized the significance of it in an instant; his right leg would never work again. Lying flat on his back, he looked up and saw the giantess stepped over the remains of the overpass; the overpass that Liz could have easily stepped over. She continued on, her monumental legs reaching far into the sky. After a moment she was all but out of sight, her long strides carrying her far off into the distance.

***

He remembered the cadillac. “Guys!” he called out, pushing the rubble off his leg and forcing himself up. “Guys!” he called out again, making his way towards the car. He didn’t see it at first. The car was covered by rubble, small and large. It wasn’t smashed, at least, not completely. “Guys!” he called out again, limping his way to the driver’s seat of the car. 

He opened the car door, shaking off dust and bits of concrete. “Guys!” he threw open the door and looked inside. In the passenger side he saw his fat friend, or what was left of him. The right side of the car had caved in completely, crushing his upper body. His lower body, on the other hand, looked as if nothing had happened. The man’s left hand still clutched an unopened beer. 

“Hey,” said a voice from the backseat. “I’m... I’m alive. Back... back here.”

“Gary!”

“Dave...” 

“Are you okay?” He looked back, and immediately knew the answer. A piece of rebar stuck diagonally through his torso, pinning his stomach and right arm to the seat. 

“Oh Jesus Christ oh god oh god oh god...” said Dave.

“Hey,” said Gary, handing his iPhone to Dave with his left hand. ”it’s okay... Just... tell my wife... that I love her...”

“Gary... you don’t have a wife anymore, remember?”

“Oh, right... Well tell my ex that... she can fucking die, for all I care...”

“Can do, Gary,” he said, choking back tears. “Can do.”

“I... I recorded everything... Put it online... I always wanted to be... internet famous...”

“Of course, Gary.”

“Dave?”

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t think I’m going to live. I... This is weird, but... Will you just... hold my hand?” They looked into each others’ tear-filled eyes.

“Of course. I love you, bro.”

“Bro, I love you too.” 

“Yo... Yo... Yo... Yolo... You... You only live once, right bro? I... This hasn’t been bad, but... there was so much I still wanted to do... Have kids, have a real family...”

“Hey, it’s been real, yo.” 

Dave stared into Gary’s eyes. His friend’s eyes never closed, never looked away from him, but after a minute he realized something had changed. They were whiter somehow, and the hand felt colder. Dave held his hand tight for a minute, so tight that it almost hurt. Then he said goodbye to both his friends. 

Dave looked down the highway. The wreckage stretched on for miles; broken pavement, crushed cars, bodies scattered about by the hundreds. He stood there for a second, taking it all in. What was the meaning of this? What could possibly justify all this destruction? He started down the road, doing his best to limp along with a right-leg that would never work again.

***

“Oh my god this is so much fun! We should do this more often!” She walked along the highway. Crowds of people tried to flee away from her. The smart ones ran towards the edge of the highway, where they would have a good chance of surviving, while the dumb ones ran in the center, trying in vain to outrun her. As it turns out, to no one’s surprise, most L.A. drivers are the latter. They did their best to outrun the giantess, but it took them a hundred paces to match one of hers. With each step, another dozen or so people were crushed under foot. Many were lucky enough to escape her feet, though many were not.

“Hey,” asked Liz, “was that good earlier?”

“Was what good?” responded Ted. He was wedged between her enormous breasts, his arms hanging over the top of her low-cut dress.

“The whole ‘angry giantess’ thing. I’m trying to play it up a bit. Knocking down bridges, stomping on people, you know... Let’s see, let me do something rampage-y... Rawr!” She let out a long roar. It was incredibly loud, given her size, and perhaps almost fearsome, but it sounded very much like an eighteen-year old girl pretending to be a monster.

“Pretty scary, right?” 

“That roar was... uh... good? We’ll have to work on that one.” He paused for a second. “You know, you can be pretty terrifying when you’re upset. Hey, see the people cowering behind that car? Pretend they did something terrible. Something that fills your heart with deep and all-consuming rage.”

“Okay... Hey, you idiots,” she said with genuine anger, “how dare you use that fake lime stuff in MY Mojito!” Half a dozen people stared up at her from behind a small car. The people looked up at her, then at each other, with a mix of fear and confusion. She stomped down on them, her giant foot making a deep crater in the cement. The car was flattened into a thin layer of twisted metal. The people she crushed stuck to the bottom of her shoe, with a gooey consistency not unlike chewed gum.

“Not bad, Liz! I bought that! You can be quite the wrecking crew when you want to be!”

“Thanks! I try. How many people do you think I’ve killed so far? Five hundred? A thousand?” She started walking again, quickly catching up to the screaming crowds. She crushed more cars and people with each footstep.

“Don’t sell yourself short, I’m sure you’re at at least two thousand now. Just keep at it, and the body count will only get higher! Don’t stress about the numbers, though. The important thing is that you’re enjoying yourself. You are enjoying yourself, right?”

“Of course!” she said, as her next couple crushed an elderly couple, holding hands in the front seat of their Cadillac as her huge foot came down upon them. “Rampaging is fun. It’s such a good way to relieve stress.” She stepped again. Her foot came down along a trailer, crushing the dozens of illegal immigrants who were hiding fearfully in the back. 

***

“Ted?” She stopped in her tracks. “Can I tell you something? Something... personal?”

“Of course... umm... what is it?”

“It’s just that... You know how it feels when you’re about to step on someone, and you realize just how easy it would be to crush their tiny little body into goo?”

“Well, I mean, I don’t know that feeling personally, but...”

“You know what I mean, though, right? It’s makes you feel so powerful... like I’m a goddess, like Oprah or something, and they’re just a tiny, insignificant speck...”

Ted paused for a moment. “You know, I think I can relate. Sometimes when I fire someone, I’ll really tell them off: make them think they messed up big time, tell them how they’ll never work again in this town... even though we’re just laying them off for budgetary reasons... Or when I yell at a waitress for messing up my order, even though I know she’s new, and she actually got the order right... Or when I cut my employees’ wages, even though my company’s profits are at a record high... Just knowing that you can fuck over someone’s life for no good reason, without any personal repercussions... Best. Feeling. In. The. World.”

“Exactly. Just knowing you have complete control over someone, it makes you feel so powerful. Sometimes I’d just hold someone under my baby toe--my baby toe!--so that the tiniest, most innocent part of my body decides whether they’ll live or die. And then I’ll press down, just a little, and they’ll yell and scream at me to stop... And then I’ll let off, and pretend like I’m about to set them free... and then bam! Dead,” she laughed, “Squashed like a bug!”

“That sounds great... Just like when I take some hot-shot 20-something who’s been working for me for years, and tell them their position is being turned into an unpaid internship... but then,” he laughed, “they keep working the job anyway, without any pay, just because they can’t find anything better!”

Elizabeth laughed. “I love taking advantage of my power over little people. I love hurting them. I love killing them. It used to just be something I did on accident, or because they made me mad, or because they got in my way, but I... I like it. Like, I really like it. Like... it feels makes me feel all tingly...”

“Woah, woah, woah, I don’t need to hear all this. My wife would kill me if she knew I was having this conversation with the famously nubile Princess Elizabeth. It’s enough that I’m wedged between your tits--sorry, breasts. But, anyway...” he said, looking at his feet, “I think that kind of homicidal urges are healthy and normal, for a woman that uses the Red Spice. And I’m sure you use plenty of the Red Spice, right?”

***

Liz looked off into the distance. “Oh, yeah... of course, all the time. I just... swallow tons of it. On the reg. Definitely. I’m really experienced. That’s why I’m so big! Of course it is. Why else would I be this big? But... it’s just that, that feeling, when I eat someone, or feel them crushed underneath my foot? It makes me feel like I need to rub myself, between my--”

Ted looked up at Liz. “okay, okay, let’s stop the conversation right there. I want to maintain a professional relationship, Liz.”

She looked into Ted’s small, bespectacled eyes. “I don’t.Ted, you’re the first person I’ve ever known who gets me. Which is why, I just wondered if you would...”

“Liz, I’m sorry. If I was ten years younger, I’d say yes in a heartbeat. But I’m thirty-two, and I’m married, and, you’re so much taller than me. I’d ignore all that if I was still 22. You’re an incredibly beautiful woman. But when you get older, you start to think more about the long-term. And I know there’s no way this relationship would end that doesn’t involve someone trying to squeegee my crushed remains out of one of your orifices... And you’re young, and beautiful, and rich, and famous. Don’t you have some kind of a boyfriend or something?”

“No... When I was younger, my mom was really protective of me. She didn’t want me to make the same mistakes she did when she was younger. Oh, she was a stupid, spoiled slut when she was my age. Everyone knows it. So any time some boy got close to me, she’d kill them. And then I moved over here, and I didn’t have anyone to talk to, except for my stupid employees, and I kept stepping on them. I didn’t have anyone to talk to, except... except for you.”

“Okay, wow. I just, I don’t even know what to say, except... you realize this wouldn’t work, right?”

“Yeah? Maybe not.” she paused for a second, then the expression on her face changed. She placed her hands on her breasts, pressing them together. “What if I said that you didn’t have any choice? That if you said no, I’d just squish you like a bug between my tits?”

“I’d say, you couldn’t do it.”

***

She squeezed tighter. Ted struggled to breathe, her breasts pushing hard against his stomach. “I’ve done it before. One time, one of my servants was putting tanning oil on my breasts, and I felt his dick touching me... Just like that. I squeezed them together, pressed my tits against him, until I felt his little eyes popping out of his skull. I kept pressing these huge tits together, tighter and tighter, until his skull popped like a zit. And then I had a cleaning crew come along and clean his blood off my tits, and I thought I felt one of them feeling me up, so I did the same thing to him. And then I had to get another cleaning crew, and one of those guys... Well, let’s just say it was a long night. So how is this any different?”

He paused for a moment. “Because you like me.”

She paused as well. “I do like you.” She released her grip. Her breasts fell back, and Ted breathed a sigh of relief. 

“You know, the Emmy’s start in like twenty minutes. We’re running late. There’s a junior college over that way, you can take a shortcut through there. We can still make it on time. Hey, Liz?”

“What?”

“I like you too.”

She stepped over the barricade, walking onto a side-street. The crowds screamed and from her in terror.

The One With Christina Hendricks

“They’re going to start arriving any minute now,” said Jill, “Hurry up. We need to get ready!” The Red Carpet was rolled out. The press flanked it on either side, still waiting for their quarry: the Emmy’s attendees, a poor man’s pantheon of minor stars and starlets. The show was about to start, and soon they would be here.

“Is the seating set up?” she asked anxiously. “The ushers are all in place, right?

“Yeah,” said James, a scruffy man in a paint-stained T-shirt and jeans. “Everything’s ready. Relax. We’ve got it under control.”

“And what about the... larger members of the audience? Do you have everything prepared for them?”

“The giant ladies? Yeah, everything’s good except the food. We got seats ready for a few of them. This ain’t the Oscars. There’s what, two or three of them?”

“Twenty three, although most of them are in the eight to fifteen foot range. Kim Kardashian’s a no-show, she’s doing some kind of a Spice cleansing program in Africa. The only full-sized ones are--”

“Christina Hendricks and Princess Elizabeth. You told me. Everything’s ready.”

“And you know how big they are?”

“Of course. Christina’s eighteen feet tall, Elizabeth is thirty.”

“Oh. My. Fucking. God. You idiot! Do you not watch TV? Christina is eighty feet tall! Not eighteen, eighty! And Elizabeth is three hundred, not fucking thirty! That’s only like an order of magnitude off! Oh my God this is going to be terrible, shit shit shit shit shit...”

“Hey, it’s no big deal. You can just ask the big girls to sit outside during the show, and--”

“Really? How about you can do that? Do you really want to ask a three-hundred foot woman to sit outside of her own awards ceremony? You do whatever the hell you can to please Elizabeth. Do you know what happened to the Statue of Liberty? I’ll tell you, she did! And wait, okay, keep it cool, one of their limos is arriving... Ushers, over here!”

The limos pulled up, one after another. Each one brought another set of actors. They walked down the red carpet, flanked by photographers and paparazzi, one blinding flashbulb going off after another. Inside, one by one, the seats in the Auditorium filled. Some of the actresses were eight or ten or twelve feet tall: they rode in specially-made limousines, or squeezed out of normal limos with some difficulty. And soon, nearly everyone had shown up; but the two biggest stars were nowhere to be found. 

Then, they heard her. There was a deep pounding, ‘thwomp, thwomp, thwomp,’ like the slow beat of tribal war drums. The poles that ran along the wide Red Carpet shook just a bit with each footstep. The press readied their flashbulbs, eager and perhaps a bit apprehensive. And then she appeared, coming into sight from around a corner: Christina Hendricks. There she was, eighty feet of thick curves, topped off with long red hair. She wore a red dress and red heels. With her hourglass figure and huge breasts she looked like some real-life Jessica Rabbit, only scaled-up to gargantuan heights. 

The flashbulbs went off, one after another, all pointed up at the giantess. Christina looked down, shooting friendly smiles to the people below: little people, whose weak bodies would break like insects under her incredible weight. People who were helpless under the power of her mountainous body. She made her way down the narrow carpet, her hips swaying to the side with each step. Christina tried to walk inside the narrow confines of the red carpet, though it was difficult given her size. Her hips were as wide as a two-lane road, and her enormous breasts, jutting out like two ripe melons, made it impossible for her to see the ground immediately below her. 

“Hello, Ms. Hendricks,” said Jill, “I just wanted to make sure that everything is to your liking today. It’s a great honor to serve you, and I’m unworthy of your beauty.”

“Oh, you’re such a sweetie,” Christina said, looking down, “but I already knew that.”

An unscrupulous paparazzi was trying to get an upshirt shot of Christina. He crossed the barrier, pushing onto the Red carpet just in front of Christina. He stood there in her path, aiming his cameras upward. Christina continued forward. The front of her high-heeled shoe, as big as a small car, hit him with the impact of a car crash, throwing his body to the ground like a ragdoll. Christina, however, didn’t feel him at all. She continued walking. Her foot came down upon him. The man tried to scream out, but the impact had knocked the air out of his body. A second later, her huge heel came down onto him. For a moment her full weight, immense as it was, came down upon him, two hundred tons of woman smashing him against the hard ground. His body gave way completely, squashing flat as a pancake; only his lower legs, which stretched out past the edge of her gigantic heel, still retained their shape. 

Christina didn’t see the man under her, and she didn’t feel him either; his body was too soft, too weak, crushed under her heel so easily that she couldn’t even feel it. She did, however, hear the sound; she was all too familiar with that sound. Christina bent down to see what she stepped on. “Oh. I’m terribly sorry, little man. Didn’t even feel your little body under my big old foot. You weren’t trying to sneak a peek, now were you?” She grabbed his feel between two huge fingers, pulling what remained of his body off of her foot. “Well, off you go.” She tossed the flattened body carelessly; several paparazzi narrowly avoided being hit by it. 

“Hey,” yelled a reporter, “I had a question.” Christina bent down to him. “You’re an inspiration to countless plus-size women across the country. What’s it like to be a role model for the full-figured?”

Christina bent over. She looked down at the reporter incredulously. “Did you... did you just imply that I’m fat? That’s not any way to talk to a woman. Not any way at all.” She reached out towards him. She started to pick him up; her delicate-looking, but long and powerful fingers easily wrapped around him. “I guess I’m fat, then. So,” Christina said, “you must think I eat too much. Well maybe I do. But when one person after another asks me patronizing questions about how ‘plus-size’ or ‘full-figured’ or ‘voluptuous’ I am... Well, that just makes me get all upset. And when I get upset, I get hungry.”

“No, I’m sorry, just--” but it was too late. Leaning her head back, she tossed him into her mouth. He fit neatly between her lips. She swallowed, sending his body down her throat, his muffled screams getting fainter and fainter as he slid further down.

“That vibration, when they try and scream, even as they fall down your throat... It’s such a delightfully strange feeling. Does anyone else want to ask me about how full-figured I am? No?” Nobody else did.

She came to the end of the red carpet. Christina looked down at the entrance in front of her. The double doors were perhaps fifteen feet wide and fifteen feet tall; far too small for a giantess. She looked down at Jill, who was standing next to the entryway. 

“How exactly am I supposed to fit through there?”

“I’m so, so, so sorry Christina. It’s just that there was a bit of confusion, and--”

“I’ll ask you once more, little Miss. How exactly am I supposed to fit through there?”

“I’m so sorry. Maybe you could... knock down the wall?”

“That’s not particularly feminine behavior, is it? I’m a woman, not a wrecking ball.” 

She paused for a while. “Maybe... if you squeezed through there... On your hands and knees...”

“What? So I show the whole country my rear, so I can crawl under there like an animal? And the whole world will see photos of it all online?” She paused for a moment. “Well, no such thing as bad publicity... I guess I’ve done worse things for fame. Have those ushers help me, would you?”

Christina got down on her hands and knees, and started to squeeze through the door. Her head fit through easily enough, but with her huge breasts pushed against the ground, she couldn’t fit her chest under the doorway. There she lied, her head on one side of the doorway, her body stuck on the other. She tried to maneuver her way under, but it was no use. She thrust her rear into the air, a photo opportunity the paparazzi weren’t about to miss. A sea of flashbulbs went off behind her.

“Ushers!” yelled Jill. “Help her! Pull her through!” They weren’t sure how they would be able to make any difference; it was like trying to move a train by pushing against it. Neither, it turned out, was Jill. And yet they dutifully tried. A few of them pushed against her rear, doing precisely nothing to push her forward. The ones inside, a dozen or so of them, tugged and pulled and pushed against her blouse. If you were charitable, you could say they were trying to lift up her breasts; if you wanted to be accurate, though, you would just call it groping. At any rate, they never managed to lift them up, not even slightly. Ten men, after all, can’t be expected to lift ten tons. All they managed to do was make her gigantic breasts ripple and shake around, like giant globes of jell-o in a red bustier.

“Careful, boys,” Christina said, “these things aren’t cheap! I think it’s time for some drastic measures.” She leaned backwards, shifting her weight back, then forward, back, then forward. Her rear knocked back the men behind her, sending them reeling. And with each thrust, her chest moved a bit farther, and her blouse came a bit looser. “Hey,” she asked, “could you boys tighten my blouse up a bit? My hands are a bit tied at the moment.” They tried to tighten her blouse, but it was no use; he heavy breasts, pushing and pouring outward, made it impossible for them to close it. “Oh, forget it,” she said. She swung back, then swung back forward. Her chest swung up high into the air, her blouse popping open. Her breasts heaved out, gigantic and round and perfect, bigger even than they looked in her dress. Ten tons of firm, heavy breast tissue came down upon the ushers, crushing them with unfathomable mass. Blood squirted out from under her breasts like jelly. 

“Oh? I’m sorry, boys. And here you were, being so helpful. One of the hazards of being a woman. Dangerous curves, they say. But I guess red is my color.” One of the men was still alive; his arm stuck out from under her. “It’s okay, little guy, it’ll be over soon. Just breathe slow, take it easy, you’ll be gone soon enough...” after a moment, the hand stopped moving.

She suddenly realized that everyone in the room, thousands of eyes, were loooking at her. “Oh,” she said, “that’s hardly polite. Would all of you kindly turn around? I said NOW?!” They turned forward, one by one, until not an eye was upon her. Everyone knew it wasn’t wise to upset Christina. 

She pushed through further. Her hips were too wide for the doorway. After a few tries she pushed through. Her thick hips broke through the sides of the wall, bringing wood and concrete down around her. “This is no way to treat a lady.” Christina stood up quickly, hitting her head on the ceiling. She craned her neck down, then brushed the dust and concrete off her dress. Then she brushed the bloody human remains off her breasts, and stuffed her immense breasts into her half-broken blouse as best as she could. 

Christina looked around for a place to sit. The room was packed, chairs and people stuck tightly together. Jill ran up to her, frantic. “I’m so so so so sorry about all this,” she said, but there’s really no place to sit.”

“Oh,” said Christina, walking up five or six rows, “it’s okay. I always manage to find a seat.” She walked down a narrow aisle, pushing past row after row of people. “I’m sorry,” she said, “didn’t mean to push. Just mind my rear.” She bent over, and the people behind her looked up apprehensively. They were in her shadow now; most of them realized what was about to happen, but it was too late. 

Before any of them could get up she leaned back farther, letting herself fall down on her rear. Her wide rear came down hard upon them, huge and thick and heavy, crushing everyone below. She came down upon them with incredible mass, her soft yet firm behind crushing them with the force of a freight train. Three dozen people were crushed under her, along with the folding metal chairs they had been sitting on. They were crushed like bugs, their blood oozing out from under her like jelly.

“Oh,” Christina said, covering her mouth in mock embarrassment, “did my little derriere do all that? What a shame for all those poor little people. I imagine most of them were good actors. Some of them might have even been on my show! I always seem to have to worst luck with these sort of things. On the plus side,” she said with a twisted smile, “I always do manage to find a seat. It’s even nice and soft.”

All around Christina were dozens of lucky people, still sitting in their chairs, who had barely missed being crushed by the enormous weight. They looked tiny, dwarfed by her full behind and thick thighs. One of them, an older man, sighed with relief. Just then Christina’s huge hand picked him up, tossing him into his mouth. Christina chewed and swallowed.

“Well, I hope everything is to your liking,” Jill said nervously, but I really must be off.” Jill quietly moved outside, to the front of the building. A limo was pulling up. She headed towards it, walking quickly, but she lost her balance. The ground shook. 

At first she thought it was one of L.A.’s famous earthquakes, but then she realized. “Elizabeth,” she said aloud. She felt the ground shake one more, and a deep rumble shot through the earth. If Christina’s footsteps were a ripple, these were a tidal wave. Another step. The poles along the red carpet shook and fell over. Another step. The paparazzi had a hard time keeping their balance. The very foundations of the building seemed to be on the verge of faltering. Another step. It was getting louder, a deep boom followed by a deeper rumble. Another step. Whatever caused that had the mass of an ocean, a force that could move mountains. Another step. Jill herself felt as if she might fall over. Another step. “Well,” Jill said, “let’s roll out the Red Carpet.”

Rolling Out the Blood-Red Carpet

They felt her coming before they saw her. Each of her steps was like an earthquake, sending shockwaves through the ground. *Boom.* Her foot hit the ground: birds flew away hastily. *Boom.* Car alarms went off half a mile away. *Boom.* Buildings shook, as if they might topple over any moment. Boom. The very firmament of the city seemed unable to support the sheer immensity of her mass, the force of each step striking like a meteor. *Boom.* *Boom.* The very concrete cracked and collapsed below her feet. *Boom.* Pipes, buried deep underground, snapped under her weight. *Boom.* The ground shifted and turned below her, alternately rising and caving in.

Elizabeth walked through the streets of downtown Los Angeles like a hurricane in a tight black dress, a cataclysm in high heels. Destruction followed in her wake. She was like an ancient colossus, her statuesque body towering over the tiny buildings below her. Panicked drivers swerved wildly to avoid her, causing crashes and pileups, dotting the roads with broken cars. Civilians tried to flee to the relative safety of nearby buildings, though many weren’t so lucky. Almost every step she’d crush one or two empty cars under her feet. 

The streets ruptured around her. A trail of deep footprints marked her path in the cement. All along her path streetlights were overturned, fire hydrants sprayed into the air, and traffic lights now lied against the ground. She was a force of nature, an earthquake in human form. A walking disaster in the most literal sense. And this was her big night.

She looked down between her breasts. Her manager, Ted, was nestled tightly between her cleavage, his right arm draped over the top of her blouse. Nestled between her huge breasts, he looked as small as a mouse. Liz’s breasts shook and she walked. The undulating motion rocked Ted back and forth harshly, like powerful ocean waves. 

“Hey,” said Ted, bobbing around, “here we are. There’s the red carpet! Just watch out for that stretch limo--”

But of course it was too late. Just as a goateed man stepped out of the stretch limo below them, Elizabeth’s huge foot came down upon the car. The front of her heel crushed the back half of the stretch limo, crunching it into the pavement. The goateed man managed to half-escape, but only half: his legs and lower torso were crushed under the edge of the unyielding heel. 

“Oh. My. God,” said a nearby voice, “you just crushed the cast of two and a half men. Oh god, look at poor Ashton!”

“Oh. My. God,” Elizabeth said loudly; even speaking normally, she could be heard far away. “Two and a half men is my favorite show! I remember that one time, when Charlie slept with that drunk girl, and it was kind of rapey, but the show just played it up for laughs... so funny! Oh my god, is that little Ashton Kutcher down there?” She stepped up off the limo. The back half of Ashton’s body stuck to the bottom of her heel like a piece of gum. 

“Too... much... pain,” said the front half of Ashton Kutcher.

“Ashton! I’m like your biggest fan!” said the towering behemoth of a woman.

“Kill… Me…”

“Oh my God, will you stop whining?”

She stepped over what was left of Ashton, as her assistant made a joke about how “the name 2 ½ men makes a lot more sense now.” She continued on towards the red carpet, though the red carpet was not nearly wide enough for her. Even if she walked toe to toe, her feet were wider than the narrow carpet. To either side of the carpet were dozens upon dozens of paparazzi, crammed tightly together, taking one photograph after another of the goddess above them. Liz pay them little heed. What are the lives of a few dozen paparazzi, after all, to a Princess?

She walked on, her immense feet stepping on either side of the red carpet. Some of the paparazzi tried to get away, but they were blocked in by the walls to either side of the red carpet, as well as the dozens of people surrounding them. With one step, Liz crushed a few dozen paparazzi, their blood sprayed up into the sides, staining her black heels. She continued on, thing the people below her no heed, crushing one group of paparazzi, then another, then another. Dozens of flashbulbs fired for the last time, before being grounded into dust. Dozens of superficial minds thought their last thoughts, neurons firing messages of fear, before their gray matter was reduced to think puddles of pink goo in the sidewalk. And after only a few steps, for she had an extraordinarily long stride, she was standing immediately before the concert hall where the innings were about to take place. Behind her on either side were her huge footprints, evenly spaced, each long and wide as a schoolbus. The borders of each footprint were demarcated by same grisly markers, bloodstain fabric and indiscernible bits of people to insignificant to concern the Princess.

Between the footprints were the lucky ones, 50 or so paparazzi, and fortunate enough to be standing in the right place at the right time. Many of them looked terrified at first, but as paparazzi, they knew better than to waste good opportunity. Within moments they had their cameras out again. Some of them stepped into the wide blood puddles, and onto their flattened comrades, to find the perfect angle for a shot.

Liz nested immediately in front of the concert house, a huge building which stood several stories tall, nearly tall enough to reach her waist.

“Ted, is there like a door, or something?”

“Doesn’t look like it, boss. Not very accessible is it? Probably a violation of the Americans with Disabilities Act. I could sue on your behalf if you want the money. But for now, it looks like I’ll have to find your own way in. Or I guess you could wait outside…”

“God, why do they make them so tiny anyway? So I have to break the stupid thing myself, and get my brand-new dress all dirty? This. Is. So. Dumb. But whatever. I’ll break the stupid little building. ”

Without another word, she put her hands on top of concrete building. Even with her hands resting lightly on top of the building, the concrete started to crack under her weight. Then she pushed down, and with little effort the ceiling immediately collapsed. Heavy cement blocks rained down onto the screaming crowds below. She pushed her hands down a little further, and the concrete beneath her fingers crushed as if it was made of sand, tall pillars of concrete toppling into the people down below. She widened the gap the further, until it was wide enough for her to fit through. Then she pushed forward, her hands collapsing through the metal catwalks and support structures that hung from the ceiling. Powerful metal bars twisted, snapped and fell to the ground, crushing untold dozens of the crowd. Soon the whole auditorium was filled with thick, smoky layer of dust, making it all but impossible to see. Below, if you listen closely, you could hear coughing among the far louder screams. 

“Oh. My. God. You little people are so annoying! Always screaming, or crying, or begging for your life… Were you please just shut up! Seriously, everyone to shut up and stop complaining right now, or I’ll step on all you stupid little people!” Suddenly, they got a lot quieter.

When the dust settled a few minutes later, it became clear what a mess the arena was. Those in the front half of the arena had been lucky, and some of those on the sides as well. Of those near the back of the arena, few had survived; At least, that is, if the bodies were any indication, or the blood they coated that now nigh unrecognizable, crushed Stadium seats that lined the auditorium.

People were still running, panicking, screaming, looking up at the giantess with a mix of fear and amazement. That is, until a shrill, nervous voice rang out over the somehow still functioning loudspeakers.

“Audience, the wonderful Princess Liz has joined us tonight! What an honor! It’s not every night we get a Princess in the house is it? No please don’t be rude and risk upsetting her highness. It’s not polite to run and scream from a Princess, now is it? Now please, everyone show her the utmost hospitality, and politely quietly returned your seats. Where you shall politely remain for the rest of the show. We wouldn’t want to… Upset such a… wonderful young woman, would we? ”

Slowly and reluctantly, the guests returned to their seats, casting fearful glances up at the Princess. Meanwhile, Princess Liz started to sit down in the ruined auditorium. The building only came up to her waist, yet with the back half of the building now missing much of its roof, she could fit in without much trouble. 

Liz looked down on the floor in front of her, a mess of twisted metal, chunks of concrete and bodies of the dead and dying, all nigh unrecognizable Stadium seats. “Oh. My. God. I’m, like supposed to sit here? On this gross floor? With these gross dying people moaning and whining under me? Ugh, whatever…”

Liz picked up the tangled mess of catwalks as best she could, carelessly tossing them onto a crowd of people beside her, to the sound of fearful screams which were quickly cut short. She walked further into the auditorium, each step leaving a large crater in the ground below her. Then she started to sit down. In the shadow of her wide ass were handful of scattered survivors, barely clinging to life – – an affliction which Elizabeth promptly cured. In an instant, their bodies were squished flat, reduced to a bit of red stain and some gunk on the back of her dress. Her ass cheeks left when indentations the ground, two perfect ovals to forever mark the occasion.

“The nervous female voice rang out on loudspeakers again. And, hey look at the… Wonderful changes that the Princess has decided to make to the theater! How great! She made it an open-air auditorium! What a wonderful idea! Let’s have a round of applause for how great the Princess is, everybody!” The crowd halfheartedly clapped.

“Hey,” said Ted, looking up at the Princess from between her breasts, “not a bad seat. Of course, I’ve got the best seat in the house… Although,” he said, looking over at her mountainous breasts, “I hope my wife doesn’t watch this one. Well, looks like the show’s about to start.” Indeed, the lights were starting to dim, and what remained of the crowd (a bit more than half of the original crowd was still alive) seem like they were as ready as they were going to be for the show. The area around the Princess was completely destroyed, but to her sides and in front of her, much of the auditorium was still in good shape. To her left was Christina Hendricks, who towered over the dozens of tiny people around her, yet was dwarfed by the immensity of the young Princess. Christina looked up and shot the Princess a knowing glance, but just as Liz could look down to return her glance, the light dimmed.

“Welcome, everyone,” said the nurse woman again over the loudspeaker, “to the 63rd Emmy awards! Now unfortunately, one of our beloved actresses seems to have eaten the announcer, so I’ll be your host tonight. Now we have a great show tonight. Now… Hold on… I don’t really have much in the way of experience monologue or anything… Usually there’d be a joke… Some kind of… Humor? But, hey! Let’s just get started! So first, for best camerawork in a multi-– camera sitcom, the nominees are…”

“God, this is so boring!” The Princess loudly interrupted. “I want to find out if I won best reality show!”

“Oh,” said the woman again over the loudspeaker,” it looks like our very special guest Princess Liz wants to skip straight to the best reality show award! What a great idea! Let’s do that right away! Kanye! Kanye! Get up here now! And here to present the winner of best new reality show is… rapper Kanye West!”

Kanye walked onto the stage, wearing black sunglasses and a black leather jacket. He started his speech. “Some say that reality shows are the lowest form of an already low art, but I say screw those people. My girl Kim better when this one though, Keeping Up with the Kardashians is one of the best reality shows all time. Ain’t no little sparkle Princess gonna win this one. All right, let me open this envelope and see who won. And the winner of best reality show is… Kim Kardashian!”

“Um, what? You did not just give my award to that bitch!” She started to get up, shaking the ground and the building and she did.

“Well,” said Kanye, “I think it’s great that someone really talented, like Kim, one this award, and not some no talent Princess like Liz. Your girl, you ain’t Godzilla. Stepping on some cars ain’t talent.”

Liz stood up, her huge body towering not only over the hundreds of tiny people in the front of the building, but over the huge amphitheater itself. The ground shook with her smallest movement. And she looked angry. Very angry.

In the back of the auditorium, Christina Hendricks stood up. “Well,” she said, “I should probably be on my way out. Why do the Emmys always end this way?” Without another word, Christina turned, and walked through the huge gap the wall that Liz had made, stepping over the rubble in the way. She walked down the red carpet, making a point of stepping on the paparazzi who were scattered about.

“Okay,” said the woman over the loudspeaker again, “we just decided to change who were giving the award to. Since Princess Liz is so beautiful and talented smart and stuff, we’re going to give her the award for best reality show!” The Princess took a single step, stopping hard into the ground. Her foot easily fell through the floor, collapsing the very cement and crushing two dozen people into the ground, along with their fold up chairs. “Did I say were only giving her that one award? The reality show one? I meant were actually giving her a bunch of awards! How about… Best actress!” Kim took another step towards the front of the auditorium, crushing another few dozen people. The crowd went into a panic. “Okay, how about… Best actor? You win best actor! And also… Best… Best opening credits! And best documentary!” Liz stomped forward towards front of the auditorium once more, her forceful step sitting up dust and debris. “And… You know, I’m just going to start making up some new awards. Best person? You just won best person! We’ve never even given out that award before! Great job!” Liz took another step. “And… Person of the year! And… Best bikini body! And, although it technically have the authority to grant this… On behalf of the Emmy awards, I'm giving you, Princess Liz, the Nobel Peace Prize! ”

With her next step, Liz was upon the stage. Kanye was still standing there, in the middle of the stage, with his black sunglasses on. She bent down and picked him up, though not without some difficulty. He was as small as insect, and is squirmy as one. After a moment, though, she had him squarely in her hand. She looked down at the tiny thing in her hand, in much the same way someone might look at a bug they had caught, and intended to squish.

“You. Are. Such. A little dick,” she said with a furious look on her face. Then, after a moment, the expression on her face changed what would normally be seen as a cute, slightly mischievous smile. But the same expression that would be merely cute on a girl who stood 5’ 3’’ could sometimes be deeply menacing on a girl who stood 300’ 5’’.

“A little dick… You know, that gives me an idea…”

Liz’s new boots

“Like them?”

Ted asked the question as he looked up at the mountain of gorgeousness that was Princess Liz as she stood in the grounds of her mansion hands on hips. She was in a very tight stretchy white low cut t-shirt with a logo stretched across her ample bosoms and cleavage of her trampling some low rise buildings with a strapline of “I kill people for fun……15,000 and counting”, which rode up occasionally revealing a massive belly button piercing as big as a soccer ball. She coupled this with a pair of skin tight designer skinny jeans, with a leather belt with a gold buckle which at 3 tons in weight could cause significant damage to people and property on its own and worth a cool $150 million. Other items of jewellery rattled on her wrists (including a diamond encrusted Rolex watch),and also round her neck, on her ears, and on several of her fingers, rings that could slice a man in half if the wearer was not careful, and frequently Liz couldn’t be bothered to be careful. But it is what she was wearing on her feet and up to her knees that was the focus of the conversation, a beautiful sleek pair of very tall black leather Louboutin boots which wrapped around her lower legs enclosing her close fitting jeans. They had the trademark red sole and very high heels and a low-ish platform in addition. These were 5 inches and 1 inch respectively, or would have been, but at Liz’s height were more than the height of a 2 storey house and almost as tall as a man respectively. Ted had a certain amount of trepidation as he stood there just a head higher than the said platforms.

Liz standing there, long blonde locks blowing in the breeze, spat out some gum she was chewing, which landed on several onlookers, smothering them instantly, and then spoke. Her girly tones loud because of her size she said, “Like them? I LOVE them! They’re SO cool!”. She then proceeded to pose, scattering Ted and other employees causing them to run to safety. Like a model she sashayed up and down that part of her grounds, each boot step causing great craters in the ground and grass and carelessly smashing several trees to matchwood.

Ted was so pleased, the amount of time and trouble he had spent badgering and cajoling Louboutin to produce a pair for Liz, her celebrity status meant that they practically gave the 80 to 90ft towers of leather and heel to him, such was the kudos of celebrity endorsement. Liz had been asking for them for some time but there was no opportunity until now………

“……and those red soles, the blood won’t show up so much when I step on more people”, she cooed. Ted’s heart skipped a beat…..a mixture of trepidation and excitement that she has taken on the empowerment theme, and the opportunities for more income and profit that it would bring both of them. Princess Liz was already the richest showbiz woman in the world with the potential of so much more, and a proportion of that benefits Ted as her manager etc etc. 

The events of a few days earlier didn’t do her any harm either. With the way she set the world abuzz with her performance at the Emmy awards, including the duet with Kanye West, his last performance as it happened as after he had satisfied her, he, along with most of the other people present, became so much mush under her high heels. But it was the after show party where the real fun started where she was joined by 80ft Christina Hendricks for a night on the town (literally) where they destroyed several 100 buildings in downtown LA and crushed several 1000 adoring fans and others in the mayhem. Christina’s red outfit disguised the rivers of blood very nicely, her long red gloves meant she could pop 100s of people, one after another, in her fist without it showing too much, much to the amusement of the watching Liz. Liz’s foray into people popping wasn’t so successful, too much gunk on her fingers, “eeew!”, was her reaction, and she was given a huge bowl of water to wash her hands, which had to be got from a few miles away as they had smashed so much of the city centre. She then playfully tipped the bowl over a watching crowd, causing several to drown in the unexpected torrent of blood stained water. The cameras were rolling and it was being carried on all channels and networks, the slaughter-fest had peak viewing figures as people marvelled at the girls’ beauty and power, until of course the girls got bored with the cameras and wiped them out along with the rest of the Emmy’s venue. Newspapers around the world carried huge headlines:- “Princess and Pal Paint the Town Red”; “Sexy Stars in Stupendous Smashfest”; “The sLAughter”; “Princess Power”; “Leggy Liz Liquidates Lots of Little Losers”. The National Guard foolishly got involved and actually fired at the 2 of them, the unit was crushed and there was such an uproar at the possible injuries to the 2 stars and the breach of the indemnity the giantesses had against any death or destruction caused, that the local National Guard Chief was sacked, his commanders court marshalled and the government official authorising it is now on death row……..and $80,000,000 and $300,000,000 were given to the 2 stars as compensation for hurt feelings, and the 2 girls loved eating many of the people at the press conference where the award was made. Talking about eating, perhaps the longest lasting legacy was the best-selling cookbook, The Giantess Cookbook, ghost-written for Princess Liz, and yes she did eat the ghost writers at Ted’s suggestion, she had to have the kudos, and anyway she had created many of the recipes as she and Christina rampaged……..”barbecued human: take building, smash all entrances and exits, set building alight and allow to burn, then just before the building collapses, kick away the walls and voila, tasty morsels”….or “human kebab: carefully spike trapped humans one by one on to metal spike heels and then rest the foot above a freshly burning building before taking shoe or boot off and…..TASTY”…or “take a bus of people and drop them in a swimming pool, making sure the water is hot enough….and then break open tin and consume contents”……….

AND she took the Hollywood letters and had them made into a necklace………….

Ted spoke up: “now I’ve arranged a press conference and reception for you, people are clamouring for you out there, now do your stuff, you know you are good……”

“Really?” Liz simpered sweetly.

“You KNOW you are, just go and do your stuff. I’ll come round in my car to introduce you so wait just round the corner”.

“OK, boss”, she replied sweetly. 

Liz sashayed sexily round the side of the house, walking with the total poise of the princess she is, surrounded by 100s upon 100s of tiny scurrying employees whose job was to fill in the inevitable craters caused as she strode round to the reception, her boots unknowingly and inevitably crushing those who got too close, Ted was right it didn’t show up on the red soles of the Louboutin boots.

Meanwhile Ted had arrived at the press conference. He got out of his car and after chatting with the operations people, he strode up to the podium and announced Princess Liz, followed by tumultuous applause and cheers from the crowd.

Liz came round the corner, swallowing and almost blinking at the thought of appearing in front of the fans. She done it so many times before but occasionally she had nerves, even as a giantess princess who had already made her mark on the world. 

What greeted her was an amazing sight, there was a podium with microphones, surrounded by several 100 paparazzi, and magazine writers, TV, radio, and round them 1000s of cheering fans.

And Liz didn’t disappoint…….strolling up she stepped onto the podium as one does in these events……CRUNCH! as she went through it, to the cheers of the crowd.

Standing legs apart, hands on hips, jewellery rattling, she smiled a huge smile. As the flashbulbs went off, she posed as a model does and started walking up and down as well. This took many by surprise. As they ran in fear, many were squashed to paste under the red soles of her new boots. Others stood awestruck at this huge beautiful star, this princess, the girl who had single-handedly, albeit accidentally, destroyed the biggest symbol of the nation, the Statue of Liberty, she was the one who killed 1000s as she walked along the highway to the Emmy’s, where she unthinkingly slaughtered 100s more, and ravaged downtown LA, yes you’ve guessed it, killing 1000s more, and still they loved her, adored her, even as they offered themselves to be obliterated under her boots. 

Meanwhile Ted was watching the spectacle at the side. Immediately Liz spotted him and her face serious for a moment she turned round to speak to him. 

“Do I have to do this? Parade in front of all these ****ing losers!”
“But, they are your fans, darling”.

“I know”, she sighed, “and I love them, truly, but I’m bored, I want to go for a walk”, she smiled.

“And squash more bugs?”, ventured Ted. Liz and Ted smiled knowing smiles.

“What a princess wants, she has”, said Ted “Where would you like to go?”

Liz pointed across the city towards the airport.

“But you promised after the Emmy’s party that you would refrain from wholesale property damage and mass killing, for the moment. After all, it wouldn’t be the same if LA was erased from the map”, replied Ted.

Liz pouted. “Oh, please let me, I so want to show off my new boots, please, pretty please?”. Liz put on a winsome expression. She lifted up one of her boots and looked at the mush of blood, flesh and bones on the sole. The colours matched very well. “Oh, please?”, she pleaded, playfully putting her booted foot above Ted’s head.

Ted was wavering, her escapades hadn’t harmed her reputation, and he caught himself slightly dry mouthed with a frisson of excitement.

“Oh, OK”, Ted responded, “you win”. Liz jumped up and down with pleasure, badly cracking the ground and fracturing several water pipes which cascaded over the still waiting fans, not forgetting crushing a few more of them who were too close.
“Now, finish your appearance here, and then we can set out….”

“Thank you, thank you, as a reward, I’ll put you in my cleavage again”. Ted almost winced as he noticed Liz clutching her boobs more sensually than necessary and giving him the eye, he was happily married to one of his few true friends, and Liz was so young, but she was so beautiful……especially as her long blonde locks cascaded down her shoulders in the morning breeze.

Liz put on a good show, posing, pouting, walking, answering questions, though she ate those whose questions she didn’t like, and demonstrated her stature by treading on several cars in the car parking area, along with more people. The audience lapped the show up, Liz’s reputation was even higher than before. Ted approved, her earning power just went up, and he will be an even richer man on the back of it.

Ted announced the end of the conference and the 1000s of people watching made their ways home. Liz’s employees had the task of clearing up the stains of several 100 squashed people, filling in holes, repairing the water pipes and taking the crushed cars to the scrapyard, not to mention washing the mess off her new Louboutin boot heels, as she relaxed, legs crossed, sitting on a chair. She kept swinging her legs which caused difficulty in the cleaning and a number lost their lives as they fell off her boots with her sudden movements, but Liz as usual was oblivious to the carnage she was causing.

Ted appeared. “Are you ready to go?”

“Ooooh, yeah!”, was Liz’s reply. She jumped up quickly, many of her employees were totally unprepared and fell to their deaths, and many others were squashed to paste as her boots crashed to the ground causing new craters. Next, Liz, ever so gently, picked up Ted with 2 fingers and a thumb and placed him in her taut but fleshy cleavage, which gave him support. “Be careful of my pendants, though”, she warned as they swung wildly.

Liz put her index finger to her mouth and put her tongue out. There was the sound of a dry mouth, it was the dry mouth of excitement as she looked at the city ahead beyond the fences of her property in the hills.

“I’m so looking forward to trying out my boots on this ****ing city”, she said sweetly, “and raising the body count”, she giggled clutching her tightly clad boobs, “Mmmmm!”, she moaned in pleasure. “Mmmmm!”, was Ted’s seeming reply, but this was an expression of being suffocated by Liz’s mounds of flesh.

“Oops! So sorry, Ted, heehee!” . Ted coughed and spluttered, “that’s OK, darling”.

“And could I have a new t-shirt afterwards, please? I’m sure the number will be so out of date”.

“Sure, darling, now just let loose, do what you want, you are a princess, after all”, replied Ted.

Liz then proceeded out of one of the gates to her property and almost immediately carelessly trod on a collection of employee houses near the gate with her new boots, and stood there arms folded, her many bracelets reflecting in the sunshine, once or twice putting her hands through her golden locks, and looked towards the horizon, and smiled, a city of millions, and it was all hers to play with…….

Celebrity Crush Chapter 7? (unofficial): Liz v LA

Author’s Chapter Notes: As it says… 

Liz v LA.

It was a beautiful day as Liz started sauntering down the hillside, boots firmly compressing the ground and anything unlucky to be underneath, her slender arms swing as she walked, the multiple bracelets making quite a din. Ted was ensconced in her cleavage, safe and warm……

“Aaaaah”, Liz breathed deeply, “this is so going to be fun”. Ted smiled: “as long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters, smash and crush all you like, it makes no odds to me”. “Really? You don’t mind? After what you said about LA and erasing it from the map?”. “No, that’s OK, just go ahead, be happy”. “I love you”, replied Liz giving Ted a soft kiss. Ted didn’t know how to respond, she was so sexy, but his wife………what would she say?

By this time the trampled trees began to give way to houses without her initially realising. When she accidentally stepped on the first one, the sound was so different, Liz looked down. “Oops!” she giggled, “oh well, it shouldn’t have been there”. Then she noticed the owner, “you’ve stepped on my ****ing house!” to which Liz beamed a disarming smile and shrug of the shoulders. The owner changed to a smile realising who this was. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t recognise you, you’re welcome here any time”. Liz by this time had already started deliberately walking through a row of very expensive LA real estate. Occasionally the masonry would be stained with red if the owners were in. The area was in panic. People fleeing on foot, in their cars, any way they could. All Liz did was continue walking, stepping on the fleeing people, enjoying the crunch and squelch, the power over tiny mortals and their things and her indemnity means no comeback, in fact the very act of stepping on people and things made her distinctly tingly……

Then she looked down at her breasts and saw Ted was doing something. “What are you doing, Ted?”, she enquired. “I’m doing a running body count, I’ll have that put on your t-shirt when you’ve finished”. “How am I doing?”……”well, how far back do you want? On your walk so far, 153, since the beginning of the day more like 553 to add to the 15,000 or so………I must get a more accurate figure, I’ll get people onto it.”

“Cooooool!”, she purred, scraping her foot along the street catching several more people, making quite a puddle of mush…..”hang on , not so fast”, said Ted. Liz giggled…..a mischievous giggle. ”What are you going to do to stop me?”, she laughed, stepping on another mansion, marvelling at the sound it made as it collapsed. She thought she heard the screams of the people in it as well, but she couldn’t be sure. But it just felt soooo good.

Ted laughed a nervous giggle…….he knew he couldn’t dissuade Liz when she was in this kind of mood so he just let her get on with it.

“Oooo baby, did you like that awesome crunch of that house I just trod on?”, said Liz to Ted smilingly, “**** knows how many people I squashed though”, she giggled girlishly, “maybe I should have a look?”

Ted was preoccupied with working out ways to get people to catalogue the body count. “You really mustn’t swear, young lady, it’s so……..”, Ted said almost absentmindedly.

Liz’s mood suddenly darkened, Ted could feel something brewing.

“I can ****ing swear when the hell I like, I don’t give a **** what you or anybody else thinks!” With that she slammed her boot down hard, creating a fissure in the road and several neighbouring properties to collapse. Many of those trying to escape were thrown to the ground.

“OK, OK, have it your own way, just don’t get mad when I’m between your gorgeous tits….er breasts”.

Liz’s mood changed as abruptly as before. “Really? Are my tits gorgeous? Did you say that Ted?”, Liz was almost bouncing with joy.  Ted nodded his head sheepishly.

“I love you!”, replied Liz enthusiastically, lightly squeezing her breasts, sending Ted off-balance.

“Oops, sorry Ted”, she carefully placed her fingers down her cleavage and hauled Ted up to where he had been resting.

“Hey Ted? Did you like my tantrum? I’m practicing my acting skills, I want to get into, like, more serious films and things. And I promise I won’t ****ing swear, too much”, Liz finished off giggling.

Ted breathed a sigh of relief, Liz was only playing, but it sure was a relief when she resumed her carnage, stepping on more houses and quickly catching up with the escapees, slowed down by Liz’s earthquake. A few squishes of her boots and the whole group was squished, compacted underfoot, 60 people. As Liz playfully splashed around in the goo, red splattered up the shafts of her boots, a fact pointed out by Ted when Liz showed him her boot soles and how the mush now dripping off hardly showed against the red of her Louboutin soles. 

“Ooooh, could you get somebody to clean them, I need to look my best for the photographers and news cameramen, you did tell ABC, NBC, Fox and the others, didn’t you?”

Ted shook his head sadly, “I’ll get onto it straight away.”

“How could I have forgotten to do that, I’m her agent for ****’s sake! How will she forgive me?”, Ted muttered under his breath.

“Hey, no worries, it’s OK sweetie, chill, and did I hear you say a swear word?”

Ted nodded sheepishly and they both laughed.

Underneath Ted was secretly pleased with how things had just gone. Liz seemed to be starting to act differently, more responsibly in a way, in a more adult fashion, more aware of what she as a celebrity needs and needs to do, and was ecstatic about how she had reacted to his silly error.

“Now don’t mind me, just carry on with your walk, I’ll get on to the media, and get some people together to clean your boots”.

“Thanks Ted, you’re so good to me. I will kill even more bugs just for you”.

Ted cleared his throat. He loved Liz’s go get attitude, her realisation of her power and dominance, after all she was a celebrity goddess, but was in 2 minds about her lust for bloodletting, OK she wanted to do it and the fans loved it, but there were times when she was perhaps a little too enthusiastic………this point was illustrated on cue when CRUNCH! Liz flattened a community hall where a wedding reception was being held and squished all 150 guests.

Next thing Ted got a shock, Liz had picked up the bride and groom and thrust them in Ted’s direction and before she could complete saying “Aren’t they cute?” (and imagining herself and Ted), she noticed blood dripping down her slender manicured hands and onto Ted, her cleavage and her t-shirt. Her rings had cut the bride and groom clean in half. “Ooops”, was all Liz could say as she dropped them carelessly to the ground. “Looks like do really need to clean up here”. “Later”, said Ted, “I need to get these TV people……”.

“Ooo yes”, said Liz…….”and the blood stain on my t-shirt looks kinda cool too, but eeeew, my hands feel mucky, all the mush on my fingers, gross, I so need to wash them”. A nearby swimming pool offered the perfect solution, she did have to kneel on the house to get at it, with the inevitable consequences. Sitting now on the ruins of the house she idly scraped her boots on the ground, gouging the grass and more trees and looked around, sighing contentedly. 

Next her boots were suddenly surrounded by large number of tiny people, who scrubbed and scrubbed the blood and goo off the black shafts of her boots. Like last time her boots were cleaned many perished as she kept moving and they kept falling off. Liz amused herself by alternately looking at her hands, her nails and her rings particularly, toying with some abandoned cars, stopping that when they all seemed to fall apart, and idly scooping up and eating some of the onlookers, after all, long walks were hungry work, and thirsty too, as on cue, a small fleet of helicopters appeared carrying on long chains, her water bottle. Eagerly she stretched out and grabbed the bottle and started drinking, oblivious to the fact that many of the copters hadn’t unfastened the bottle, so many of them crashed to the ground with all on board, after having her fill she put the bottle down beside her, squashing more onlookers who got too close. Presently she yawned and got up and started walking again, those people who had survived both breathing a sigh of relief, and a having a glow at having been in the presence of a real princess.

The next few minutes passed effectively in silence, there was no communication between Ted and Liz, Ted was on the phone arranging TV coverage, and there was no other sound barring the thump thump of bootsteps, punctuated quite frequently with various crunches and squelches, small screams and girly giggles. Even when Liz picked up a group of gorgeous hunks to eat (you could almost see the drool hitting the ground in large puddles) nothing disturbed the silence between them.

That is until Ted suddenly spoke.

“Got them. All the national TV channels, a lot of local ones too, newspapers, all sorts, they are coming, even as we speak” (noise of helicopters etc in near distance).

“That was, like, so quick, baby, thank you thank you thank you”.

“Well, when I said it was you at large in LA………..they came”.

Liz blew Ted a kiss. Ted took cover to avoid being blown away by the hurricane force wind much to the amusement of Liz, who tittered at the spectacle.
By this time Liz had got to some serious city……..buildings taller than her statuesque 300ft + boot heels surrounded her. She strolled down a city street, long blonde locks flowing, scattering cars and people, and squashing any in the wrong place. Even if any cars were missed, the mess Liz’s boots were making of the tarmac stopped any moving anywhere. Where water mains were cracked the holes got flooded and when the water overflowed flooding the street, it mixed with the crushed remains of dozens of people creating a red mushy puddle.

It was pandemonium. The noise of the news helicopters, paparazzi, TV cameras, followers was deafening, Ted was as good as his word. Liz smiled as she walked along the main downtown streets, frequently staining them red as people either failed to escape or sacrificed themselves to die under the boots of the goddess Liz.

The response of the people in the buildings she was walking past was amazing, massive applause, people almost swooning at her beauty, people seeming wanting to break the sealed windows to reach out to touch her, especially around the 20th - 25th storey for face and a little lower to have a better view of that cleavage and those breasts, scarcely contained within the tight t-shirt. No bra was very noticeable as her nipples showed against the fabric, she was obviously a little aroused with her seeming power and all the attention, emphasized when she inadvertently was seen scratching an itch near one of her nipples. 

She was lapping it up. Arms alternately folded across her chest almost deliberately pushing up Liz’s impressive cleavage (with Ted of course still between her boobs) and waving a ring clad hand, either her right hand (rings on all but the index finger and the thumb), or left (on all fingers and thumb except pointedly the ring finger, she wanted to show she was available, particularly to Ted (hint, hint)…..) and bracelets rattling, she waved at all and sundry as she passed, smiling a beautiful winning smile, almost making everybody feel it was them alone she was looking at. Men and woman alike wanted to see her, men because, well it’s obvious, and woman because she embodied empowerment, she was in control, and many wanted some of that in their own lives.

Occasionally she would stop, much to the delight of the people in the building concerned, when she would occasionally jiggle her breasts with her hands for their enjoyment, or blow kisses. Once or twice she tapped the glass where there didn’t appear to be any people watching, she so wanted all her fans to see her, with inevitable consequences of sharp shards of glass crashing to the street below adding to the carnage at her booted feet. The most serious incident was when she had stopped in front of one office block where the fans seemed even more enthusiastic. She was smiling and waving and the fans were waving and whistling and cheering. Liz so wanted everybody to have a closer look at her assets (especially the men! But women admired them too) that she leaned towards the building. Ted meanwhile sensing something was about to happen that he hid away in safety. As Liz leaned closer, it did happen, several of the pendants draped profusely around her slender neck decided to escape form their normal place and swung out towards the façade of the building like so many wrecking balls. It was carnage as they hit, glass and masonry everywhere, screaming people, as many who had pushed themselves against the glass to get the closest look they could at the legend called Liz, were squashed by the pendants, killed by falling masonry, collapsing ceilings and shattered glass or trampled in the panic and as the front of the top floors of the building slumped many more fell to their deaths as they fell a long way to the ground or the more lucky ones fell down Liz’s cleavage, scarcely missing Ted as he hid, though lucky was only relative as Liz all too roughly pulled them out of her cleavage one by one, those who hadn’t already been suffocated by her soft flesh were often turned to mush as she popped them alive between her manicured fingers much to her amusement. And she ate several of the best specimens.

So there she was, standing legs astride of an intersection, boots planted firmly across the lanes of traffic, arms folded.

“Ted?”

“Yes?”

“I hope you are all right with me doing this”, she waved her arm round at the carnage marking her path through the city, “it’s not that I have destroyed all the city and there are lots of people I haven’t killed (steps on citybus), but….you seem preoccupied, is anything the matter?”

“It’s OK, you carry on, if it is making you happy, as I’ve said before that’s all that matters”

“Really? But you seem so quiet, it wasn’t that shower of people when my pendants went through that block over there? They did fall all over you when the upper floors collapsed”.

“Or was it the bride and groom I picked up and, er, sliced in 2?”. Liz giggled at the thought.

“No, it’s OK…..sorry babe, I’m just very busy, I’m working on something”.

Liz was intrigued, she sat down on the ground causing a semi-earthquake and several blotches on the tightly clad backside of her jeans where she crushed several cars and their occupants.

“That sounds interesting, may I see what you are doing. Ted smiled and put his finger on his lips. Liz smiled. Ted then ventured “Sssshhhh, let’s just say it’s a surprise……..”.

Liz’s face beamed…..”I LOVE surprises”, she said, “thanks Ted”, before she got up and now with a real bounce in her stride continued her destructive to people and property and landscape path through the suburbs the other side of LA towards the airport………..

Liz v LA 2

CRUNCH! SQUELCH! CRUNCH! SQUELCH! SQUELCH! CRASH! Her steps were relentless as far as the suburbs of LA were concerned, at least in the vicinity of where Liz was walking. Acres of dwellings were being levelled and hundreds of cars and so many people. Liz was enjoying it, for the people underneath it was rather mixed. She could have walked along the main roads but why bother? She was a princess, these rules were for lesser beings, like the ones smooshing so easily under her Louboutins. “Anyway, the roads around here are too ****ing narrow”, she said to herself, almost on cue with the narrative. So she just walked the most direct path.

“How am I doing?”, said Liz.

“You’re looking fabulous, that’s how, the star of The Big Life with Princess Liz, strolling around her local town, meeting her fans, everybody is so excited to see you…….that’s why there are so many people around for this time of day. And look at the news copters………”, replied Ted.

“Heehee, I see what you mean”, she said briefly posing and pulling her top for the cameras, showing more cleavage, and smiled a huge beaming smile, with lots of sparkly white teeth. Ted had hidden himself further down the cleavage which was just as well, as he would have been seen by the world’s media, and the TV pictures seen by his wife. The TV copters were on this occasion keeping a safe distance, they’ve seen what happened on some previous occasions, with some playfully swatted out of the air or used as tasty snacks.

“What I meant was the body count…..”

“Ah! Well, er, I’m still waiting for the results from when your pendants swung against that tower, I’ll tell them to hurry up, the princess is waiting, but otherwise……….”

Liz was standing there hands on hips. “Well, I can’t wait all ****ing day”, Liz said, her smile betraying the tongue in cheek nature of her comment. And Ted couldn’t help but notice the smear of blood at the corner of her luscious red lipped mouth, she was chewing. “I found them down my top when I posed just then, they’re very tasty……”, she smiled.

With all the results in (and estimates), so far the total is………..

“Come on, come on”, cajoled Liz jokingly.

“……..97949………….”

“****! I had so hoped to be over the 6 figures, oh well, I obviously need to crush some more”, she smiled. It didn’t take long to add a few more as she squashed those at her feet looking up admiringly at her, before walking off looking for more to smoosh.

After trampling on a dozen more cars, hoping for the tell-tale red spots, but finding most had been abandoned by their owners, she stopped again, and stood there hands on hips again.
“Now where the **** are all the little ****s when you want them?!”, she demanded. Liz clearly was now not happy. She really was serious about the 100,000 kills. Ted realised he had better do something, Princess Liz needed to be placated as there was no knowing what she might do, he had seen her tantrums, though ironically, the 100,000 would be reached more quickly. But he wanted Liz to be in a happy place while slaughtering her last 2,000 odd to get to the magic number………

”Ted, can’t you ****ing do something?”.

“I’m already on to it, keep walking, trust me”.

Liz’s anger subsided, replaced by a playful pushing together of her boobs, ever so lightly, being careful not to squash Ted too much. She was smiling again. She started walking again……..looking for victims, er, fans to crush.

She actually didn’t have to go far. After trampling half a dozen more houses, suddenly out of the corner of her eye she saw a wondrous sight, a huge crowd of cheering people. Ted had phoned his aides to gather more fans in the vicinity, adverts were put out on live TV, the advertisers gladly relinquishing their spots knowing it was the princess. The draw of being in close proximity to giantess Liz meant there was no difficulty in raising large numbers of people.

Carelessly trading through several more houses in another city block, she took the short path to the crowd. The ecstatic reception of the crowd reached her ears and she beamed from ear to ear as she posed and joked with the crowd, showing her mush and dust covered boot soles, lots of gore dripping off onto the crowd, and also grabbing a couple of news copters and eating the contents, to the amusement of the crowd, even when she tossed the helicopters, squashed like tin cans, you could see the imprint of her fingers and the rings, carelessly, killing several dozen in the crowd as the helicopters crashed nearby.

“I love you”, “step on me”, “you’re looking great”, “hiiiiii”, “you’re beautiful”, “what a goddess”, “come crush my street”, “stunning”, “so pleased to meet you”, were various comments coming from the crowd. Liz acknowledged every one of them, even wading into the crowd and specially stopping to step on the person who said “step on me”, too bad for some around who didn’t get away quick enough, they met the same fate.

Then without any warning, looking down at her fans and smiling her winning smile, she started stepping on the crowd. Panic ensued as 100s of people tried escaping down nearby streets, as 100s more were crushed in not much more than a couple of minutes. By this point the news and general TV helicopters were getting close, beaming the action to 10s of millions of TVs around the country.

“Hey you can stop now, you have reached 100,000!”.

“Really?”, said Liz sweetly, “but I so want to continue, this slaughter is such a ****ing turn on, mmmmmm”. Liz started fondling her boobs and even reached between her legs. Then she saw Ted, “er, oops, sorry Ted, forgot you were there”.

“Er, Liz, darling?”, said Ted.

“What?”

“I need to go off and prepare for some things, so is it OK to leave you here for a little while? There’s plenty to eat if you’re hungry and I will get your water bottle to you”.

Liz looked knowingly at Ted. With that Liz sat down where she was on further people milling around feeling the squishy wetness on her tight form-fitting jeans of more people. As she stretched her jeaned & booted legs out, she carelessly cut a swathe through another city block, and where she put her hands, yet again her many rings were lethal execution instruments. And she ate her fill of tiny fans, stuffing down a couple of score of mainly men, she let out a surprisingly ladylike burp, stretched out and patted her petite stomach, shown to glory as her t-shirt had ridden up, her belly button piercing shining very brightly in the sun. She was content, and when that was so, it was all good……….

She was rich, very rich, famous , stunningly beautiful, and supremely happy…….she could do what she wanted, like a goddess, and she could do no wrong, ever since the headlines about when she first burst into the big time when she accidentally toppled the Statue of Liberty and killed her first 500 people and how they changed very quickly into her favour, she had legal immunity for any death and destruction caused whether accidentally or otherwise, she had killed more than 100,000 people now and created a path of destruction through the 10million population metropolis that is LA, and still they loved her. And Liz just loved doing it, ever since her devastating stroll to the Emmy’s, where she strolled along the little people’s highways killing 1000s and the several 1000s more at the after Emmy’s party, and since. She smiled, a very sweet smile, to herself, everybody else around was either squashed or running away from her, though some even in that, looked around at her gorgeousness as she sat in the ruins of many structures and many lives. Even the TV and news helicopters had mostly moved away, though again some couldn’t resist.

All was peaceful……..but gradually Liz became aware of this droning sound in the distance getting closer all the time. It got louder and louder, and more and more intrusive as Liz’s irritation began to tell as she started frowning and fidgeting, suddenly:-

“Stop that ****ing noise, will you? It’s driving me insane”.

There was a sudden flash of anger from the sometimes petulant teen as she lashed out instinctively with her arms. Unfortunately that noise was part of an army of helicopters, always on standby to carry Liz’s water bottle and other things she required, and she caught the chains holding the bottle (just as the previous time her bottle was brought to her), and the 6 helicopters involved were dragged to the ground with the loss of many lives of crew and bystanders.

“Oooops! Sorryyyy!”, said Liz sweetly as she smiled at the 3 surviving, badly injured helicopter crew, before turning round and picking her 40ft tall water bottle up from where it had slammed down on a nearby school, demolishing it almost totally. It is just as well that school was out that afternoon, everybody was out celebrating the fact that Princess Liz was in their midst, though many of the high-schoolers who wanted to emulate Liz one day probably are already paste under her boots anyway. And the thirsty girl slurped away at the water, it was thirsty work this celebrity crush……..

“I’ve got the 100,000! That’s soooo cool, so ****ing awesome!”, she smiled to herself, as her left hand (her right was holding the water bottle) subconsciously drifted between her designer skinny jean clad legs……….

The unexpected rampage

Liz was now getting a little impatient with waiting for Ted, as she sat in that trashed corner of LA where she had reached the 100,000:-

“Where the ****ing hell is he?”, she said crossly, drumming her fingers on the ground, causing more cracks and holes, and I need a new t-shirt”…she looked down at the outdated number of people she had killed on the t-shirt as it stretched across hardly keeping in her ample boobs. She actually lifted up her t-shirt, revealing her boobs for a moment, not lost on some of the still watching men, until she thought maybe she should wait for her new t-shirt before discarding the old……

On cue, who should arrive, in his limousine with some of his staff, but Ted. He got out of his car and walked around to the front of Liz, making doubly sure he was noticed, a potentially excellent move as when Liz moved her hand the car was missed by a fraction, a dozen bystanders were not so lucky.

“Ah there you are…..where’ve you been, sweetie?”

Ted blushed at this term of endearment, his wife often said it, now it was also coming from a superstar goddess princess, sitting in front of him, and talking to him.

“Get on my hand and we can talk”. Which is what Ted did, Liz lifted Ted up closer to her eyes, so she could see his tiny form better.

“Well, I have been very busy, even in the last hour or so, so sorry to keep you waiting…..”
“No probs”, Liz smiled.

“You know you wanted to go to the airport, no doubt to play with it”, he joked, “but what if before you do that you got paid for doing something there?”

Liz raised her eyebrows quizzically.

“Let me explain….your presence here in LA has been noticed by so many people including some very important (NOT as important as you, darling, don’t worry) people, well, an airline wants you to make an advert for them. I’ve got the outfit you are going to wear at your home along with your new t-shirt as promised. AND a cool $300million is being deposited in your bank account as we speak.

“That’s so cool. Thank you so much Ted, I love you”, Liz was almost tearful.

“Do I get to kill everybody afterwards?”. 

“Go ahead, if that’s what you want to do. Only don’t smush certain people, OK, that’s all I ask”.

“How will I know?”

“Er, I’ll tell you nearer the time”, replied Ted, he knew he should have had a better answer than that, but so many things to think about……..

The day was going on and even in LA there could be a chill. Liz started feeling it……she wrapped her arms around her chest……..

“Are you cold?”

“What do you think?”

“Hee hee, only joking, I picked up your leather jacket and gloves, well, I got my people to”.

Liz was so grateful as she got up, and crushing and smushing more of LA’s structures and inhabitants as she went, went over to where Ted’s team had kept them for her.

The jacket, a brown leather bomber style was just a perfect and warming fit and the black leather gloves, well they fitted her hands like a glove……….as Liz stretched and posed and walked around with the gracious steps of the princess she was….and she knew the TV cameras were still around, lapping it up. Her slender jean clad legs, going way up into the sky to those on the ground, with the tall heels of the Louboutin boots accentuating the slenderness, in turn glided through the air followed by a sickening crunch where her boot sole and heel found an unfortunate house or 2 or a collection of cars, blending with a softer smoosh if people were involved, as dozens more people expired under her boot soles.

Ted suddenly realised Liz wasn’t there, “Liz, where the **** are you? We need to be going!”, he growled. When he turned round and noticed Liz now hamming it up in front of the cameras, he smiled, “that’s my girl”. 

She was now playing the (cute) monster, maximising the crush and destruction, stomping, smashing and kicking buildings and trampling on 100s of cars and of course squishing 1000s of people. Stepping on a petrol station had an explosive effect much to Liz’s delight as girly giggles filled the air as flames erupted all around and the bodies of 100s more people lay bloodied on the trashed streets. With her leather gloved hands she was now picking up structures and playing with them, such as crushing them so the contents and the people go down her cleavage, some she tipped the contents into her mouth and had a good feed, and she had now got the hang of popping people in her gloved fists, giggling as their innards squirted out from her clenched fist. She was so pleased with the gloves, she didn’t have to get icky paste on her hands. She gave a palms out gesture to the cameras and they saw the blood and gore dripping off after which then putting her gloved palms one by one to her mouth where she licked the mess off, all the time pouting and smiling sexily to the cameras. Then she proceeded towards a highway, full of escapees from this unexpected extra rampage (there is only so much the population can take even from the delightful princess Liz), the ones valuing their lives. However their decision might have been a bit rash as Liz saw this as an opportunity. Positively seen to be licking her lips, she stepped onto the crowded highway and started crunching everything under her 2 lanes wide booted feet. As she went up and down, several 1000 cars and other vehicles, many 1000s of people, bridges etc, were crushed into an amalgam of dust, squished metal, shards of glass, all blended with the remains of those rash escapees. Liz was enjoying it, the feeling of power, the joy of squishing tiny microbes, hurting them, and worse, which is what actually happened most of the time. She beamed. Presently she signalled for the filming to stop by swatting some helicopters out of the sky and sauntered over to a now open-mouthed Ted.

“How was that, sweetie?”, said Liz.

“What an AWESOME show, you are the best, you know that”, replied Ted.

“Yes, I know”, said Liz, “no, seriously, thanks so much for the compliment, I love you”, with that she planted a big soft kiss on Ted, almost smothering him.

Ted spluttered. “Sorry, are you OK?”, said Liz with concern. Ted nodded and Liz smiled in relief.

“Now let’s get the **** out of here”, said Liz breezily, picking him up between gloved fingers and walking off, totally forgetting he had come in a car, which she then accidentally trod on along with several people around the car who weren’t quick enough getting away, as she started walking quickly back towards her home.

“OMG, that was soooo ****ing amazing”, exclaimed Liz excitedly.

“Another 50,000 is what it was, now that’s ****ing amazing, another new t-shirt……”.

They both smiled at each other.

The short for Princess Liz journey home was relatively uneventful, she walked across ground she had already previously trampled on, even Liz was wide-eyed at the carnage she had caused, boot print craters, holes, areas of broken concrete, piles of wadded metal and most of all varying sizes of stains and puddles of red. In fact sometimes combinations of several of these as several boot prints were lined in squashed cars or indeed lined in red mush.

“OMG! Did I really do that?”, exclaimed Liz
.
“Yep!”

“It’s so awesome!”

“Yep!”

“I can’t wait to do some more!”

“Yep!”

“The sound when my boot squishes the bugs, like, so cooool!”

“Yep!”

“Are you even ****ing listening!”. Liz was a little exasperated.

“Yep!”

“Doooooh!”, Liz stamped her foot, causing several nearby structures to collapse, often on top of fleeing occupants.

Ted laughed. “You know I’m teasing, darling……..you are an absolutely ****ing amazing girl!”

“Really? That’s sooooooo nice”. She playfully squeezed her boobs under the leather jacket as they were, lightly squeezing Ted who was in his accustomed very comfortable place, with her tightly leather gloved hands. She had given them a wash in a nearby lake, staining it very red, so her t-shirt wasn’t stained any further by this action.

“You know I’ve said this before?”

“Yep!”

“I do really mean it!”

“Yep!”

“I mean, really mean it!”

“Yep!”

“Are you even ****ing listening!”.

As soon as Ted said that, they both realised what had happened and they both collapsed in fits of giggles……….

Once they had recovered Ted spoke again:

“You are fantastic, stunning and wonderful, and you mean so much to……..”

“But what about your wife?” interjected Liz, “I mean what would she say, after you said you loved her very much, and you said a relationship between us wouldn’t work……”.

In reality Liz’s heart seemingly skipped a beat.

“Hey we’ve arrived at your home, see you in a few days OK, we have a shoot to do”, said Ted cheerily, giving Liz a peck on the cheek as far as the size difference would allow.

Another (replacement) car was waiting to pick Ted up, while Liz cheerily walked indoors, scattering her employees as was her usual unwitting practice. Luckily this time nobody was squished, though there were a number of cracks in the yard caused as her boots clomped down at each step as she went in, that needed repairing.

Liz’s R & R

Liz spent the next few days relaxing and resting at her home, eating, drinking, lying by the pool, walking around the countryside. Mile after mile of giant footprints now marred the landscape where she had strolled, along with the occasional farmstead stepped on in passing, and the aftermath of where she had crossed a highway was all too apparent, with the piled up smashed cars and the red blotches of their owners and passengers. 100s of her employees were on continuous standby to keep the patio and paths smooth for the princess to walk along as every one of her footsteps caused major trauma to the concrete. Another job for them was to clean up the goo when any of them had been carelessly squashed to paste by Liz, and that unfortunately for them was quite frequent as Liz wasn’t known for stepping carefully. She never had and never will do, why should she?, as a giantess princess.

Sometimes she could be seen from many parts of LA as she stood up to face the warming sun, hands on hips, her pert breasts free of clothing, her mountains of jewellery reflecting seriously in the sunlight, the cause of at least one major forest fire, and a couple of major road pile ups as drivers couldn’t see what they were doing, or actually were distracted by the stunningly beautiful giant celebrity beauty princess living The Big Life.

One day Liz was settling down to a snack, and had just broken open the first car to get at the delicious contents which she then hungrily stuffed into her mouth. She was alone so she dropped some of the niceties of eating with others present. She was sooooo pleased with herself, she had actually gone out herself to get this “food” from the queue of cars at a local attraction (not her, but something else). Having airily destroyed the historic site, unchanged for centuries, as so much rubbish, with her new pair of riding style boots, then with a giggle and smile, she grabbed as many cars as she could from the panic and tossed them into a bag, and now she was tasting the fruits of this.

Just then there was a sound of something approaching.

“****! Who the ****ing hell is that?”. She was annoyed, “Can’t a girl get any peace?”.

“Ooops!, Oh, it’s you!” she said almost apologetically as Ted came into view.

“Having fun, are we? You haven’t stopped the killing, then?”

Liz smiled, as the blood dribbled from the snack down the corner of her delicate lips,”nope, and I’m loving it, since we last saw each other another 1000 of the little ****ers and counting……….”

Ted looked at her with a disapproving glance, “I’ve said it before, swearing is not for a young lady”.

“**** you! Now **** off and stop ****ing telling me what to ****ing do! I can ****ing swear as much as a ****ing well like!”. The air was turning a dark shade of blue as the innocent looking but deadly teenager let rip. Then she teasingly squashed Ted’s latest car. “Oooops, sorry! I’ve squashed your ****ing car”.

Ted slapped his face with his hand, “hmmmph!”. Liz laughed. “Only teasing, darling, I’ll try not to swear so much, honestly”. Liz fluttered her eyelashes. 

“Meanwhile I have had a great few days……”.

“I can see that”, Ted smiled. 

The body count was climbing and climbing, even when Liz wasn’t deliberately looking out for the slaughter. She was uncontrollable, but adorable and cute……….

Sitting cross-legged in the yard in the heat and sunshine of a warm LA afternoon, completely naked except for her bikini bottoms and her jewellery, hair pinned up to allow her shoulders to tan, Liz was greedily consuming her snack. Peeling open the cars, she tipped out the contents, alive or dead and scoffed them, before tossing the wrecked cars over her shoulder, landing wherever they landed, denting the ground, squishing unfortunate employees, one or two hit the wall of her house and some even landing in the pool. All this had to be repaired. Liz was never a particularly tidy girl and here again it showed. Handful after handful of people ended up in her mouth, almost faster than she could chew. There were drips of blood and gore on her body where they had dripped out of her mouth and a particularly red patch where she had occasionally patted her stomach with great satisfaction with a blood stained hand and let out some very loud burps, causing Ted (and any employees nearby) to close their ears. Doing all this she was teasing Ted mercilessly as she smiled at him and giggled each time she burped. Ted knew better than to interrupt her snack, so he just accepted the teasing without comment, but it was Liz who spoke first:

“This is sooooo delicious, you ought to try it…….heehee maybe not….”, Liz suddenly thinking about Ted’s status as one of those beings she was eating.

Ted could only grimace as a shower of blood and gore spewed out of Liz’s mouth as she spoke……

“Liz, you should know better than to talk with your mouth full, what would you parents think?”

“**** them!”, said Liz.

“You know you don’t mean that”.

“I guess you’re right Ted”, replied Liz, wiping her blood stained mouth with her hand, “they’re great parents really, well they brought me up, after all”, Liz laughed heartily as she said that.

Suddenly: “what the ****’s that?”, said Ted, looking up.

“What?”, said Liz.

“That hillside, a perfect imprint of your boobs……”.

“Well, the trees are so small, I thought I would hug the hillside instead, my imprint, ”I was there”…….”, she giggled.

“And the whole of LA can see it……that’s cool”, said Ted, his attitude becoming suddenly more relaxed.

“Anyway we have a shoot to do……..”

“Ooooo yes”, smiled Liz, “I’m, like, so looking forward to this”.

The 2 of them went indoors to the luxurious room where the outfit she was going to wear was laid out, lovingly almost, by 100s of Liz’s employees, well it is not often in one’s life that you get to see the world’s biggest star at close quarters, intimately sometimes, even if many lose their lives doing it, it is a real privilege and there are no shortage of people wanting to do it.

“Ted, what the **** is this outfit I’ve got to wear?”.

“Remember $300million has been deposited in your account and I forgot, another $300million at the end of the job + almost guaranteed royalties of $100million a year, this advert is going to go viral, almost every major TV company in the world has accepted this advertising and most major newspapers. I just hope people remember the product/service………..”

“I’ll make it memorable”, said Liz. “Don’t worry”.

“I know you will, babe, I know you will…..”, Ted’s voice faded as he drifted off into part reverie and part weariness. He knows there will be widespread death and devastation, the destruction of another large part of LA and the deaths of 10s of 1000s more people, as Liz unwound from the job she was being paid to do, but Ted knew that people adored Liz, worshipped her, even as they turned into paste under her feet, hands or other parts of her body, even now various small towns in the US were inviting her to open this that or the other, knowing full well it was in effect an invitation for their town to be wiped off the face of the map…….., and the money was flowing in………… 

“Well, it looks like I have no choice”, giggled Liz as she prepared to have a shower before putting the outfit on. While she was doing that Ted left the room, well, it is a private time for Liz, went to a nearby room and occupied himself with further details to do with the shoot, speaking with his people and making sure everything was right for the star.

After a little while there was a knock on the door. “Can I come in?”, Liz asked sweetly.

“Of course”, said Ted. It was so sweet of her to ask, and in her own house. Ted moved so there would be no accident.

“How do I look?”, she paraded around the room, hands on hips, like the model and more that she is.

Ted was open mouthed.

“Well?”

There Liz was resplendent in an air stewardess uniform for the airport company that was paying for the advert, or at least a slightly sexier version. There was a crisp shirt which fitted her top half well with a scarf around her neck, a form fitting jacket, a short tight skirt, pantyhose and high heeled pumps. These all had the effect of making her legs go on for a long time, which I suppose is not so far from the truth as she is 300ft (and 5 inches) tall. Her hands were enclosed in some tight fitting black leather gloves and she wore a hat, she had pinned her hair up to fit, and for more realism she didn’t wear as much of her jewellery, most areas where she did normally wear jewellery the outfit covered up, there was no real sign of her multiple bangles and bracelets and her ears had one pair of relatively discreet earrings, the only sense of her usual jewellery wearing was you could see the studs she had put in to preserve her other ear piercings. (Normally it was 3 lobe piercings in each ear + her left ear had one at the top).

“I…I… don’t know what to say, you look stunning……….as you always do of course”, he added quickly, “but, seriously, this looks even better than I imagined. One thing though you do need to clean your shoes”.

Liz looked down and saw the leather pumps were caked in the usual body parts, employees trapped in the wrong place as Liz moved around, though if the truth be known she did test the shoes out on several employees. The floor in the corridor was also a trail of bloody shoeprints.

“Ooops, I’ll get some staff to do it”. Liz and Ted smiled at each other, knowing full well that she had tested the shoes and Liz knows the exhibition of power is a turn on for him, even if he doesn’t admit it sometimes.

“Now, let’s go fly some planes”, Liz smiled purring, her black leather glove clad fingers together as though throwing a very fat dart. “And I so want to kill some more people….”……..

“Now, we have a job to do first, you’ll get plenty of opportunity for the other later, plenty….”. That last “plenty” Ted said much softer. Liz’s ears pricked up, “what could he mean, that sounds so coooool”, she said silently to herself.

Presently it was time to go. As Liz stepped out of the house she looked down. “Is that another car, Ted? It looks so cute”. (In the meantime Ted had had another car delivered to Liz's home to replace the one Liz squashed less than an hour before. To Ted’s horror she then picked it up and placed it in her gloved palm to look at it, before promptly squeezing it to wadded metal and then dropped it crashing to the ground. “Ooops, silly me, now you will have to come with me, teehee”. Ted now had no choice, time was getting on.

People had somehow got to know that there was something big (in many senses of the word) going on that day, there were crowds lining the damaged streets from a short distance from her house, and the paparazzi were all around the gate, and Liz just couldn’t resist.

Turning her pump on the ground, she squashed a dozen paparazzi to pulp even before she walked anywhere.

“Come ON!”, said Ted with impatience.

The TV cameras were there again filming for another episode of the Big Life and Liz waved at the cameras even as she walked down the crowd thronged highway. Every step was a squish now, and Liz was loving it. And more than loving it: “**** me! This is making me so horny”. She was just about to put her gloved hand between her legs when she suddenly thought better of it, maybe she shouldn’t do this in front of the cameras & public………at least not yet………

Squish! Squish! Squish! As scores of people disappeared under her pumps Liz walked on through the adoring crowds, some actually throwing themselves at her feet, some in pure adoration and some, seeing the spray of gore as she stepped on and on, wanted to see what it felt like under her pumps, a life terminating experience but many had good last memories. Liz continued walking and smiling for several miles down the highway, too potholed from last time for any cars to be there, but the people…..it was a bloodbath. By the time she approached downtown (and she couldn’t resist crashing through some as yet undamaged streets there), she had slaughtered 50,000 more people.

Liz was looking around and suddenly she smiled:-

“Ted? Am I allowed to take that skyscraper home? It looks so adorable and would look great in my garden?”

“Afterwards, darling, we have a job to do remember, at the airport?” replied Ted.

“You are going to let me take it home afterwards? Coooooool!”

With that Liz skipped off, in the way only cute beautiful destructive young celebrities can, towards the airport. 15,000 further casualties later, she was there, playfully stepping on the perimeter fence and the security guards………

“Nooooo, don’t do that, we need the airport intact”, shouted Ted.
This fell on deaf ears as Liz continued trampling the fence down.
“LIZ!” CRASH! “Oh, never mind!” Ted was angry but appeared to give up as Liz put her foot through an outlying hanger, catching some light aircraft as the structure collapsed squashing several members of staff as well.
For some reason this seemingly had the desired effect:
“Did you say something Ted? I was so enjoying myself that I didn’t hear you, and you’re so tiny.…..heehee”, giggled Liz casually dropping another light plane she had picked up as she sashayed towards Ted, again causing great craters in the ground. “Oh, she is sooooo sexy”, thought Ted and many others watching.
Liz stood by Ted arms folded across her chest and drummed her gloved right hand fingers on the fabric of the jacket on her left upper arm. She looked around and saw a multitude of people standing round and lots of TV and still camera equipment including helicopters for aerial shots.
“Now the person standing here needs no introduction”, said Ted, “and needless to say you will make sure she is well looked after, she is a star commodity, and you are to give her anything she needs”.
Liz posed and waved, “hiiiiiiii!”
She turned and bent down to speak to Ted, “I’m ****ing hungry, could you ask them to get some stuff for me?”, she whispered. “Sure”, said Ted, “what would you like?”
“Ooooh, burgers, fries, coke and erm…..”
“Any volunteers?”, Ted asked the assembled throng, “the princess wants something to eat. I will organise burgers, fries and coke, so over to you for the rest”.
The response was phenomenal. Starstruck men and women queued up as Liz sat on another hangar, which needless to say didn’t hold her weight, so she sat crosslegged, unwittingly letting her skirt ride up, giving quite a view of her panties and helped herself to the queue of people. Some screamed as she picked them up and popped them into her mouth, much to Liz’s delight, they were much more spicy tasting when they were fearful. Others just stood there in a trance looking at her beauty as she picked them up. When she had had her fill she played with the remaining people who hadn’t run away, pummelling them to paste as her gloved fist slammed down on them, and once finished couldn’t resist licking her goo covered gloved hand. One hundred people perished in all, of which a good half found their way to her stomach, Liz had a BIG appetite. By this time Ted had ordered the other food and it came in a fleet of heavy trucks which Liz with her accustomed impatience picked up, sometimes with the driver still in and tore off the back and poured the contents into her mouth. Big water tower sized vats of Coke arrived as well, which she downed the contents of, and those, like the trucks, were squashed and tossed away randomly onto various parts of the airport land behind her.
Wiping her mouth with her gloved hand she let out a discreet burp, “sorry”, before sitting for once quietly waiting for the shoot to start. There was a great deal of activity in front of Liz, much to her puzzlement, as the film/TV etc crew had to regroup and large amounts of equipment was brought to effect any necessary repairs.
The director then spoke. His voice was amplified through a very sophisticated PA system so Liz could hear. “What I need from you, Princess Liz, is for you to stand over here by the end of the runway so we can check our camera angles etc, OK?”. 
Eager to please Liz was up like a shot and walked over there. Unfortunately her path went right through the crew car park with the inevitable unfortunate results. There Liz stood, beaming, gloved hands on slim hips, wisps of blonde hair under her hat blowing in the wind.
“Now, darling, walk forward as if on a fashion show runway”. Liz, who had done this before many times, sashayed down the runway, hands on hips, hips swinging, the stiletto heels and the soles of her shoes sinking into the concrete at every step rendering the runway unusable.
“****!”, said the director, that wasn’t in the script, thank goodness for photoshop and special effects. He had a major reason to say it again when Liz clumsily bumped an airport lighting tower bringing it crashing down on a camera crew. “Ooooops, so sorry, clumsy old me”, she giggled.
“CUT!”, said the director, “we need to do this again”. Liz smiled, before retracing her steps, gouging more concrete and starting again. Again she sashayed, gouging more of the runway to ribbons.
“CUT! Don’t wave at the fans! However much you want to”. Liz goes back and sashays once more…….
“CUT! Get rid of that gum!”. Liz responds by languorously spitting the gum out, hitting the glass of the control tower, more things to replace… …and then Liz repeats, take 4…....
This happened another 3 times before it was just right. Liz, however, was getting restless:
“Bored now! When can I smash this ****ing place up and kill everybody”, Liz whined, much to the dismay of those involved in the shoot, there was much throat swallowing, while she wandered off, smashing one of the terminal buildings in a fit of irritation.
“Leave her be, she‘ll be back”, said Ted, “she is just having a teenage moment”. There was much holding of breath as the teenage moment became several minutes as she walked out of the airport and wrecked another city block and killing several 100 more people before slowly wandering back. 
Liz was all smiles again as she returned and saw the cameras again, and all was good again, to great sighs of relief all round. She was OK and that was what was most important. People were watching her every move. Even a tantrum and wrecking a large part of the airport before the shoot was half over didn’t lessen the enthusiasm of the crowd or the potential advertiser: to get the star of the Big Life to endorse their product was something special………
“Hiiii” she said again with a cute smile. “Now, where’s this ****ing plane I’m supposed to be holding?”, she said in her educated beautifully modulated tones. 
“Good”, said the director to himself, “she has understood the brief”, before speaking up: “we produced a replica plane for you to hold, we thought it would be easier for you”. He then pointed to where it was standing. Liz looked distinctly unimpressed but did her duty and went over to get it.
It was quite big, almost half of Liz’s 300ft, and was a faithful replica of an airliner operated by the advertiser from this airport, but Liz lifted it easily and cradled it in her arms as she walked back onto the shattered runway.
“Where do you want me?” said Liz to the assembled crowd, “here?” she ventured stepping forward, her shoe catching 2 people much too close.
“Yes, that’s great, darling, now stand with legs apart and lift the model airliner above your head as if in triumph. Liz did that exactly as instructed……CRUNCH! “Ooops!”, said Liz with a simper. She looked up and smiled. She had gripped the model a little too hard and her gloved hands had cracked it. “They don’t make airliners very strong nowadays”, she joked, as she tipped the model out of her hands to the side of the runway, unfortunately onto some of the watching crowds. “Now let’s use a real plane shall we?” she said in a mock firm manner, hands on hips, followed by a girlish smile, all bright teeth (she managed to clean her teeth of the blood and gore of her previous victims). Before anybody could say anything Liz had spied one parked at the other side of a couple of small hangers. To save time (time was precious in the filming world, lol) she walked straight across and the hangers became ruins as she put her feet through their roofs flattening them, and bodily picked up the airliner and cradled it as she walked back, further crumpling the hangers as she obliviously crashed through them for a second time.
She was almost breathless when she said: “got it! Now all we want are passengers!”
“Passengers?”, queried the director……
“Er, duuuuuh?”. Liz sounded so sweet saying that. For her it was perfectly logical.
“Plane? Passengers? Don’t the two sort of, like, go together?”
“It is only a shoot, it wasn’t meant to be a real aircraft”. And he knew full well what could happen….
Seeing Liz’s expression of puzzlement, even disdain, Ted then piped up, “you had better give that to her, you do want a successful shoot, don’t you? She only going to……”. Ted knew it would happen anyway but keeping Liz happy was top priority.
“Oh, OK”, said the director reluctantly.
Liz’ face immediately brightened up in a girlish grin.
“Any volunteers?” said the director hesitatingly.
The director couldn’t believe it, just as for her snack earlier, people were falling over themselves to volunteer, superstar Liz had such pulling power, and to be so close to her…….
Even Liz was open mouthed by the response as she put the plane down as lightly as she could and a full complement of 350 passengers and crew boarded. So many more wanted to do this, but there was no room. Liz helpfully exercised the cut-off point by gouging a deep trench with her sharp heel, so that no one else could come through, squashing many in the process and causing many to fall to their deaths as they fell down the chasm.
Once they were all on board, the cameras rolled. Liz then lifted the aircraft up, as if she were a weightlifter and lifted it above her head, moving her legs apart, her feet slamming down as she did so, as she did the lifting. The logo was in exactly the right place for the cameras.
The director and crew were delighted:
“Perfect! That’s great darling! Smile! Look this way! Etc!”
The rest of the shoot went exceedingly well, Liz turned it on for the cameras with commensurate skill, in many ways a long way above her tender years, maybe it was her breeding as a princess? She did exactly what was required. This is one reason why Liz was so sought after, apart from her looks of course, she is so professional.
Presently the shoot etc came to an end with the director’s call to wrap it up. Everybody was pleased and applauded Liz, with a 10 minute standing ovation, which Liz acknowledged, waving, flashing lots of smiles. The fact Liz was doing a shoot was broadcast round the whole world, and she knew it.
When the applause died down, Liz turned to Ted and spoke quietly:
“Can I eat them now, please? Pretty please?”, she pleaded. The way she looked while saying that was soooo difficult to refuse. So as the TV/film crew and other crews put everything away Liz sat down, cracked open the plane over her knee and consumed the contents. As the passengers went into her mouth one by one, the screams and the noisy crunching as she chewed had to be tolerated as equipment was put away, anything damaged had to be salvaged, and the footage filmed had to be edited into a presentation worthy of the 300ft tall tower of sweet gorgeousness. As previously once was full she toyed with the rest of the passengers, frequently ending up as paste under her gloved hands which again she enjoyed licking off, finishing with a few gulps from her outsize water bottle before she poured some out into a huge bowl and washed her gloved hands, then discarding the water, washing away some in the crowds leaving, much to Liz’s amusement when she realised what she had done.
Then the inevitable happened. Now the shoot was finished and she had finished her snack and she was free to go, Liz’s lust for the kill had free reign. The airport was completely obliterated, every plane was broken and there were another 5,000 deaths. Satisfied, Liz walked destructively home, slaughtering a few 1,000 more, leaving Ted to pick up the pieces and also a cool $100million compensation for the trauma to Liz of boredom during the shoot, payable by the advertisers with generous support from the city of LA.
“OMG, that felt so ****ing good!”, Liz said to herself as she pushed over her last building of the day and stomped another shopping mall killing almost all inside as the roof collapsed and walked the last mile home, “but I soooo need to do some more”. She was feeling all tingly and very tempted to put her gloved hand between her legs. It was getting late so a rampage through one of her employee settlements had to suffice. After a last snack of the survivors, she went indoors and the totally cute but murderous golden girl relieved herself sexually and otherwise, and generally unwound, and then settled down for a sweet satisfying refreshing night’s sleep, dreaming of her 12,000 kills that day.

The Gift

***

Not many could get away with the things Liz did. She was a walking natural disaster. She treated everyone around her like cheap, disposable commodities, tossing their lives away as soon as she was done with them, or got bored. But the night of the Emmy's had been a new high, or low, for her destructiveness. She had stomped her way across the freeway, like a Kaiju in high heels, crushing as many cars as she could. After they had the nerve to give the award for best reality show to Kim Kardashian, and not her, she rampaged her way through the Emmy's. 

She brought down the house, rather literally, and the collapsing Emmy building took most of the audience members with it. Liz, always the rap fan, had decided to use her idol, Kanye West, as a dildo. Unfortunately, he was a too small for her, and rather quickly fell out. It was well over a hundred feet from her crotch to the floor, and Kanye had a very hard and very wet fall. Later that night, Liz met up with an actress by the name of Joan and had a drunken night out on the town, causing far more destruction. The national guard made the mistake of firing on them, and after Liz promptly slaughtered the unit, there was public outrage about the army targeting such a beautiful young woman.

But it wasn't the rampages across the town that caught the public's attention. It was the Emmy's. That was where she had crossed a line. All the other times, she had killed everyday, obscure, unimportant people; the kind whose deaths, on their own, might get a few moments on the local news. Their deaths were only considered newsworthy in aggregate. But at the Emmy's, she had killed famous people. Rich people. People who could get a spot on the news for attending a basketball game. People who mattered. 

And so, for the first time in her life, Liz found herself on trial. Liz found herself squeezed into a courthouse that was much too small for her, with a judge and jury members who barely came up past her big toe. She had been granted diplomatic immunity from prosecution, but not from civil suits, and so the families of those killed at the Emmy's disaster tried to sue the princess. They stood to win a (small) portion of the princess' allowance for that week.

The facility lacked proper seating for a person of Liz's stature, and so the princess made due, and the jury quickly found themselves squashed under her behind. The judge, angry at her disregard for human life, made the mistake of yelling at Liz, and ended up crushed under her designer heels. The next judge and jury ended up the same way, as did several after that. Finally, a supreme court judge traveled in for the case. But the supreme court judge was also a giantess, and was understanding of the princess. The judge stated that because of her privileged upbringing, Liz couldn't be expected to know the consequences of her actions. Instead, she declared that Liz would from then on be immune to both criminal and civil charges, and forced the families of the deceased to pay a stipend to Liz for hurt feelings.

Liz took her new found immunity to heart. She decided to embark on a series of escalating rampages that destroyed much of LA. Ted kept track of the body count, or tried to, but it was far more work than one man could be expected to do. By all accounts, it was easily in the hundreds of thousands. She stormed through downtown LA, snapped airliners at the airport, and did the kinds of things that only a spoiled 300-foot tall princess can do.

With more destruction came more infamy, and thus more fame, and thus more money for Liz. In addition, it meant plenty of good footage for her reality show, and her upcoming documentary film, Cloverfield 3. Unfortunately, the movie, as well as the new reality show, have yet to be released. News coverage of Liz's destruction is also lacking, due to Liz destroying many of LA's news reporting agencies, there's little accurate information about the details of these rampages. However, one amateur historian, calling himself, 'uvwxy,' set out to write an account of Liz's quest to increase her body count. The accounts, if sometimes questionable in terms of accuracy, are always entertaining. Bloody good reading, one might say. 

***

"So Ted, what's behind the curtain?"

Ted, stood next to the base of Liz's high heel, which he was dwarfed by. Liz was standing there, wearing her nicest heels and accessories with short cut-offs and a ratty, too-tight T-shirt. The two of them stood in front of a huge red curtain, one that looked fit for some Wagnerian opera. Behind the curtain was something about the size of a two story house, though neither of them could tell what yet. Liz could have looked over the top of the curtain, had she wanted, but she made a point of not doing so. After all, that would ruin the surprise, and Liz loved a good surprise.

"Oh my god, Ted, is it a car? I've always wanted a car that I can fit in. Wait, no, I guess it's not big enough for that. Is it a giant go-cart? That would be pretty cool too, but I guess it's not big enough for that either. Maybe a giant skateboard..."

"Well, I guess it's about time for you to find out." Ted pulled out a small remote control. He pushed a single button, and the curtain fell down, revealing the new invention. "Go ahead, guess what it is."

"It's... a big metal box, with a glass front, with a bunch of Mexicans standing on top of it?"

Indeed, it was in essence a big metal box, about the size of a three story house, with a glass front. It looked a bit like a microwave, but taller and skinnier, and with some kind of metal object in the middle. There were some large glass cylinders on top, which appeared to be some kind of chemical storage tanks. And there were in fact several dozen people standing on top, all of whom looked Hispanic. Men and women, they were dressed in a variety of shabby clothes, and looked tired and confused.

"So what does it do?"

"Liz, I have some great news. Some time ago you came to me with a request for an unusual custom nail polish recipe."

"I don't remember asking for that..."

"You were a bit drunk at the time. Our engineers have been working on a device that will allow you to mass-produce as much of that specialty nail polish as you could possibly want. Now, there were some... difficulties in getting this device made, but it's now finally complete."

"But how does it make nail polish?"

"Watch and see."

Ted pushed another button, and the machine revved up. The chemicals from the storage tanks were injected into the glass cylinder. "First, the buffering agents are added... Then, the red dye..." A trap door on the top of the machine opened up, and the crowd dropped into the huge glass case.

"Okay, so it's a bunch of Mexicans sitting in a bunch of weird goo. I still don't see how this is supposed to give me nail polish."

"Hold on. The machine's still gotta work its magic." The machine started to hum, louder and louder. The crowd inside the machine got on their feet, increasingly worried, some of them trying to escape. "Wait for it..." In a moment, it became clear what the machine really was: a blender. The giant blade started up, and in an instant, limbs were flying around in a whirling tornado of red. A few seconds later, and the blade stopped. There was nothing left but a thick red goo. The goo drained down into an unseen chamber below the glass case. A moment later, there was a 'ding' sound. A robotic arm slowly lowered down a bell jar, about the size of a beer keg, filled with red nail polish. 

"That's all? Isn't that kind of wasteful?"

"That's the best part, Liz. 99% of the human body, as it turns out, is completely unsuitable for nail polish uses. The system drains out all the extra stuff, all the gross brains and guts and stuff, creating the purest, smoothest nail polish possible. And then the extra odds and ends are mulched into fertilizer. So it's eco-friendly!"

"Yeah? That's pretty green, I guess... But isn't it, I don't know, like, wrong, somehow, to use people for nail polish? I just hope there aren't any laws against that."

"That's why I used illegal immigrants, Liz. They're criminals. There's no law against killing criminals. I mean, I assumed they were illegal immigrants, anyway. I found them standing down at the corner by the home depot, holding farm tools. Really, how obviously illegal can you get?"

"Oh Ted, you're such a joker." Liz unscrewed the top of the jar, which revealed an applicator about the size of a broom. To her, it was smaller than a toothpick, yet she carefully picked it up between her fingers and applied the polish. Liz started to paint the nail polish onto the fingernail of her right index finger. After a few dabs, though, it became clear that there was nowhere near enough of the nail polish. After a moment, the bottle of nail polish was empty. Her nails were bare, save a small, crimson dot on her fingernail.

"Oh my god. Ted, I love it! This is. The. Sexiest. Color that I've ever seen! I want to wear this every day! But we'll need to make a lot more of it. How are we going to get enough people to use for all that nail polish?"

"That's the best part! You see, the great state of Arizona has a bit of a Mexica-- I mean, Latino-- I mean, illegal immigrant problem. Their jails are full of Mexica--err, illegal immigrants. Most of them were were pulled by cops in, umm, completely random checks, and were jailed because they didn't have any government ID with them. So I've arranged a little deal with the governor. Basically, we supply the vehicles to take them away, and he lets us drive them off by the van load, no questions asked. Pretty sweet deal, right? And maybe a dozen or so van loads per day doesn't sound like all that much, but you'd be amazed how many of them you can cram into the back of a van. Seriously, that's like their talent, as a people. But at any rate, we'll have plenty of them."

"That's awesome! They'll look great on my nails. Mexicans are the best nail polish! But... I've been thinking, and... I'm not, like, a bad person, am I?"

"What? No Liz, of course not! You're one of the most beautiful, caring people I know!"

"You're sweet, Ted, and you're right, of course I'm a good person. But... I don't know... I was just looking at one of those T-shirts you made me a while back, and... What did it say on it, '300,000 kills and counting?' The stupid thing doesn't really fit anymore, because my stupid tits have gotten bigger, but I was looking at it, and... Well, a while back, Richard Dawkins was on TV, and he said that some of my actions were morally questionable. He got booed from the talk show, but still... And then, I was watching Ratatouille the other day, and I was thinking about the evil critic who wrote those mean reviews, and made everyone sad. Am I being like that critic, going around and hurting people? Ted, tell me honestly. I'm not a jerk, am I?"

"Of course not, Liz. You know what it is? Californian liberals. They hate success. The minute anyone gets successful, they say, 'hey, you, stop being successful! Give up your money! It's everyone's now! Give it all to the poor!' And if you say, 'no, I want to keep my money, instead of giving it to a bunch of minorities,' they call you a jerk. Or say you're three hundred feet tall, and you kill a few hundred thousand people, because you felt like it. Well that's what you get to do when you're three hundred feet tall! Maybe if those little people had worked harder, they wouldn't be so little. They should have pulled themselves up by their bootstraps, and become three hundred feet tall too. You're a real American, Liz. You're a job creator. You create tons of jobs. Just look at how many interns we go through in a given week!"

"I know you're right, but... sometimes, it just... feels wrong, somehow. I was thinking about maybe cutting out the killing, and the drinking. I could try and... be nice to people. You know, help them."

"Liz, I know what you're thinking. You want pull an Angelina Jolie. Clean up your image, do a reinvention as some kind of celebrity Mother Theresa, adopt some African kids, become a U.N. Goodwill Ambassador, the whole nine yards... It's a savvy idea, in theory, but the timing's all wrong. You want to do that later on, maybe in your forties, when your career is flagging and you need some extra media exposure. But now, the you don't want to mess up a good thing. Your paradoxically innocent bad girl act is killing right now. You're all over the media, your show's ratings are through the roof... If anything, I'm thinking you should maybe try and go on a bigger rampage..."

"I need a break from rampaging!" Liz stomped her foot hard against the ground, as her heel tore into the pavement and sent a shockwave through the ground. It registered as a 3.2 earthquake on the richter scale. "Let me just try to be a good girl for one day. I'll stop drinking, stop cursing, and I'll even stop killing people. Just for a little while."

Ted, knocked down by the shockwave, staggered back to his feet. "Okay, you've got it. One day. One day. I'm sure this will go great. By the way, I almost forgot to tell you. You got some kind of a gift from your Mom earlier today. She shipped it over by boat, it just arrived at the L.A. harbor. Sounds like it's something big. But I'm afraid you have to go through downtown to get there... It might be hard for you to get all the way down there without hurting anyone, so maybe we should just wait until tomorrow to pick it up..."

"A present! Oh my god, I'm so excited! I can't wait, let's go right now! I'll try and be careful on the way over..."

Walking Softly

***

Liz made her way through downtown Los Angeles, trying hard not to hurt anyone. But this was Liz, and it was rush hour in LA, so this was easier said then done. Surrounding the princess was terror and gridlock. As soon as drivers could saw her, they'd try to speed away any way they could. The cars swerved and accelerated as fast as they could, plowing through pedestrians and fire hydrants, until they inevitably crashed into another car that was also trying to speed away. The result was complete chaos. The streets around Liz were littered with huge pileups and high speed crashes. 

People from surrounding buildings fled onto the streets, hoping to escape the doom that was shashaying towards them. Pedestrians tried to push their way through the dense wreckage, but there were too many of them. The crowds of panicked people ran this way and that, bumping into each other, and all too often trampling over each other. Cars plowed through entire crowds of people, desperately trying to get away. Yet in the end, whether they lived or died came down entirely to chance.

Liz looked down at Ted. He was wedged between her cleavage, safetly nestled between her impossibly huge C-cup breasts and the front of her bra. Liz had purposefully ripped the top of her T-shirt in half to give Ted a view so he could see what was going on below. "I'm doing pretty good, right? I feel like I'm not killing too many people."

Ted looked up at Liz from between her cleavage. "I haven't been paying that close of attention, Liz, but I think you're doing pretty good. If we're talking in terms of actual deaths you directly caused, by stepping on people, I'd say that at most you've caused a few thousand deaths, and maybe even less! Of course, if you count indirect deaths, the total's got to be way, way higher. In the tens of thousands, at least. Car crashes, buildings collapsing from structural damage, people trampling each other, fires... it's easy to forget about, but all that stuff adds up fast. Then again, I've never counted indirect deaths in your total; it always felt like cheating. It would artificially inflate your total kill count, and I know how much you like to brag about your count. Or did, at least."

"Guess who's technically only killing a few thousand people today! Everyone, say hello to the kinder, gentler Liz! Woo!"

Liz jumped in the air with joy, leaping as high as she could and throwing her hands up into the sky. When she landed, she came down with incredible force. A shockwave rippled along the ground, rupturing the pavement into jagged, spiky formations. Dozens of nearby office buildings collapsed without warning, causing bricks and concrete to rain down upon the panicked crowds. A natural gas pipeline below the road snapped, sending a jet of fire through the cracked pavement and roasting a crowd of people. The mass of people tried to flee, even as the very earth erupted around them. The upturned pavement slanted around chaotically, sending cars rolling this way and that, until the slammed into the ground or onto pedestrians. Cars and people alike were wedged between the earth, never to be seen again. In a moment, thousands surely perished.

"Oopsie... Those deaths were all indirect, right? So they don't count, right?"

"Lets say you're still at about three thousand. Don't worry so much about the tally, though, Liz. Just worry about having fun, and remember that the sooner you get to the docks, the sooner you can find out what your new present is!"


***

Liz made her way towards the shipping yards, weaving around crowded streets, trying not to step on too many people. But everywhere she went, there were countless people and cars and buildings. One of her high heels was wide enough to take out two lanes of traffic, and long enough to take out a full-size bus. She tried to step in the gaps between the cars and crowds, but few of the gaps were as big as the bottom of her heels. Here, she skewered a man like a shish kabob on the rail-thin tip of her heel; there, she squashed a crowd of fleeing pedestrians under her toe. Here, she flattened a bus full of NFL players; there, an ethnic food truck, along with the ever-polite Vietnamese couple inside. And so it went, until she came onto a street that was very much unlike the ones before. 

The street was cordoned off, with a tall barbed-wire fence running along each side. It was easy to see why. On either side, as far as one could see, it looked like a disaster area, destroyed and deserted. Cars littered the broken streets, barely recognizable sedans and sports cars and buses, crumpled up like tissue paper. Debris was scattered about, bricks and signage and trash. Buildings had toppled into arbitrary piles of concrete and broken girders. There may have still been bodies there, or not; if so, they were destroyed beyond recognition, scattered with the rest of the debris. The city hadn't even tried to close the street off. They were too tired, too desperate to bother, so they just put up a wall on either side and hoped that the city would forget about those who were lost.

"Oh. My. God."

"What is it, Liz?"

Liz stared at the single building that was left standing It was a strip club, with a giant sign that read 'Cheetah's.' It was somehow untouched by all the carnage, as if some mad god of destruction had decided that Cheetah's, of all places, was worth saving.

"I... I did this... All this destruction... It was the night of the Emmy's." Liz stared out into the distance for a moment, deep in her memories.

"Ted, I remember that night like it just happened. Me and Christina Hendricks rampaged drunk through the streets. All that chaos, all that death, all that destruction..."

"Liz, it's okay. I know you're trying to put that part of your life behind you now."

"Best night ever!"

"Huh?"

"We got so schwasted that night! Christina is a blast to get crunk with. There's a Bacardi rum factory down the street--well, there used to be--and me and Christina were doing shots from all these tanks of Bacardi Gold. And then we tried to walk down the street, but we were stumbling everywhere, back and forth, taking out buildings left and right. 

'We had a contest to see how many people we could swallow at once. I won that one, easy, got like thirty in one gulp. Christie's tiny, she's not even a hundred feet tall, so she couldn't swallow more than a few at once. Then we played this hilarious game where we stuffed a bunch of people between each others cleavage, and then saw how many people we could squish all at once. Christie destroyed me at that one. She's... Umm..."

"Absurdly well-endowed?"

"Heh, yeah. That." Liz blushed. "And then we played this prank where Christina destroyed part of a building, and everyone came running out the front entrance. But there I was, lying on the ground, with my tongue right under the front porch. So a bunch of them run out, right into my mouth, running up my tongue like its a ramp. And I roll up my tongue and swallow like ten of them at once! It was awesome! And then the stupid army comes up and starts shooting at us, and we just went crazy and stomped the hell out of everyone. It was awesome. And then we finally went down to the waterfront together, and then we... Well... Yeah. What an amazing night...

'Hey, look at that!" Liz pointed at an object near her feet. On top of a flattened 1070s VW Bug was a dull, dirty lump, nearly as big as the car itself. The lump was covered with dirt, but underneath you could still tell it was a pale red. "That was Christina's gum... The piece she was chewing that night. She kept playing with it... She'd put a few people in her mouth, and roll them around with her tongue, until they were all caught in the giant ball of gum! And then when they were all stuck inside the gum, and they couldn't get out, she would bite down and chew the gum, and squish all the little people into goo! It was so funny! And then, I bet her that she couldn't spit the gum out and have it land on that VW bug, and, well, she won.

Liz bent down to pick up the gum. She pried off the VW bug, and picked up the gum in her hand. "Ted, is it weird... Would it be weird if I kept this? Like, as a memento?"

"Liz, you can keep whatever you want, but it is a piece of gum."

"Whatever. I'm keeping it." Liz opened her left pocked and gently placed the gum inside.

Liz's attention returned to the world around her. For miles around it was chaos, pandemonium, carnage. Honking horns and sirens and screams rang out in the distance. The carnage reminded her of that night. It reminded her of Christina.

Liz continued towards the docks, making her way to her new present.

Withdrawal

Liz was getting closer to the shipping yards, though they still seemed a long way off. She had wandered her way onto a residential back street, far from the rush hour chaos that sprawled over most of the city. Here, she could travel around while causing minimal destruction--well, minimal by her standards, anyway. Sure, her heels went through the pavement, and sent huge cracks through the now uneven streets, and maybe she knocked over a few cars and broke a few fire hydrants here and there. But Liz had gone well over half an hour without killing anybody. And for her, that seemed like a record.

"Oh my god, I haven't killed anyone in like half an hour! This has got to be some kind of record!"

"I'm very proud of you, Liz."

"And not only that, I've only killed a few thousand people all of today! I'm being such a good person! Hello you, fellow citizen! You, trying to hide behind the picket fence! I will not step on you today! Enjoy going about your day in peace!"

After a few minutes, people started to tentatively approach Liz. Realizing they were in little immediate danger, people started to come out from their houses to photograph Liz, and marvel at the goddess in front of them. Soon the sidewalks were lined with excited people, looking up at Liz, smiling and waving. Liz didn't look at them. Instead, she stared hard at the empty street in front of her, biting her lip.

Ted looked up from between her cleavage. "So how do you feel, Liz? Is being a gentle giantess everything you thought it would be?"

"Yeah... I like it, I guess..."

"Yeah? It sounds like you're having mixed feelings. Kind of like I said would happen..."

"Well... It wasn't so bad just a little earlier, when nobody was around, but now that there are all these people staring at me... I'm getting all these... urges..."

"Urges? What kind of urges? Let me guess, the violent kind?" 

"Well... It's kind of embarrassing... I have this weird tingling sensation... I just really want to... It feels like it's been so long now. All those little people, I just want to do terrible things to them..."

"What kind of things?"

"All kinds. I want them so bad. I want to crush them to goo under my feet and swallow them and squish them between my tits and stuff them up my cunt and sit on them and everything else all at once. It's so hard to resist, looking at their tiny, weak little bodies... I could swallow them by the dozens, or step on all of their little bodies like the bugs they are...

'Would it be bad if I just stepped on a few? Just one or two of them? Would anyone even notice one or two people? I mean, I guess they would, but one or two seems like such a tiny body count. Who cares about two people? Can I just stomp on one or two? Can I Ted?"

"I thought you were going to try and be nice to them for a while? It's almost like you're destructive by nature, and you just need to accept that about yourself..."

"But I need it... I need it so bad... My whole body is aching... I want them all inside me, and under me, and I want to turn their fragile little bodies into blood and guts and nothing... Can I tell you something? A part of me wants to kill you right now. Not because I don't like you--of course I like you-- but because it would get me off to crush your little body. It would be so easy right now. All I'd have to do is push my tits together... I'm sorry. Is that fucked up, Ted?"

"I've heard worse... Although maybe it would be good for you to have your way with the crowd, just to get a little violence out of your system."

"No! I can do this I can do this I can do this..."

***

And to both of their surprise, she did. Half an hour later, Liz was nearly to the shipping yards. The crowds had grown thinner, and then dissipated entirely, as she left the residential neighborhoods and entered an old industrial part of the city. She continued on towards the docks.

"I made it! I went over an hour without stepping on anyone. I'm almost there!" But as Liz took another step, the usual crunch of crushed concrete was joined by a few other sounds: a squish, a yelp, and a scream.

A high-pitched voice called out from below. "Aah! Oh no, not Hodor!"

Liz lifted her foot up and examined the ground. "So close... Oh well, stepping on just one person isn't so bad."

"Don't worry, I'm pretty sure you just stepped on someone's dog."

"What? Oh my god, I stepped on a doggy? Is he okay?"

"I mean, no, you just stepped on him. You do weigh about a hundred tons..."

Liz looked at the underside of her foot. Dripping from the bottom was a small piece of dripping red goo. It wouldn't have been recognizable as a dog, save for the leash that was still attached to what was left of it.

"Oh no, I can't believe I killed a cute little puppy dog! I'm a monster?"

"Why are you suddenly freaking out over a stupid dog?"

"A stupid dog? How can you talk like that, Ted? Do you not have a heart?"

"Liz, the last time I checked, you step on people all the time. Why do you care about a dog?"

"But those are just people, Ted! People aren't cute! That poor little doggy must have been so cute and innocent, with his big little eyes and his cute little smile... I've never killed an animal before. I feel terrible..."

"Umm, Liz?"

"What?"

"You've definitely killed animals before."

"What? When?"

"All the time. Like, by the tens of thousands. Hundreds of thousands, maybe. Dogs, rabbits, cats..."

'Liz was on the verge of tears. "All this time I've been killing cute little kitties... With their big adorable eyes... Oh my god, this is horrible. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think you'd care. I mean, they're just cats and dogs, Liz..."

Liz was furious. "Just cats and dogs?! Do you not have a soul? How can you not care about them? You're a bad person, Ted. You hate animals, don't you? 

'You know what, I should have known. I got all those dogs as a birthday present, and then one by one, you just gave them away to some farm, without even asking me first... Why would you do that unless you hated animals? What kind of farm needs that many chihuahuas anyway?"

"Umm, Liz..."

"Yeah?"

"I have to tell you something. Something you might not like. There wasn't actually any farm..."

"Yeah? So where did you send the dogs away then, huh? I don't know where the lies end with you."

"I didn't send them away anywhere, Liz. I just told you that because I didn't want you to know that... You had stepped on them."

"Oh my god... What about little Chewie?"

"I found him on the bottom of an old pair of pumps. Liz, this really isn't that big of a deal."

"How could you say that? I'm a monster! All those poor little animals! And their poor owners, they'll be all sad now... Well, the ones I didn't step on..."

"Liz, they're a bunch of stupid dogs! It really doesn't matter!"

"'Chewie doesn't matter?' 'Chewie is stupid!' Okay, that's it. I don't like you anymore! I can't believe I used to have a crush on you. You're like practically forty, and you're not even that good-looking..."

"Liz, I--"

Liz lightly pressed her breasts together. "Don't talk! Don't even talk right now! Do you want to be smooshed between my fucking tits, because that's what's going to happen if I hear one more word right now!"

Ted said nothing. He looked up fearfully at Liz's face, then slowly lowered his gaze. 

***

"Come out little guy, I'm not going to hurt you!"

Liz, heartbroken about the Chihuahua who was now a stain on her foot, searched for the dog's owner. He couldn't have gone far, but he was nowhere to be found, so Liz decided that he must be hiding behind something. She searched the streets below her as best as she could. Her height was a mixed blessing when it came to finding people. On the one hand, her height gave her a natural bird's eye view of the world, letting her see far more than a normal person ever could. On the other hand, it was hard to make out people from three hundred feet above them. From Liz's perspective, cars were hard enough to see, and people often seemed as small as ants. 

Liz tried to get a closer view of the ground. She bent over as far as she could, until her breasts were a mere hundred feet from the ground. As she bent down, her ass swung back like a wrecking ball in tight-fitting jeans, flying across the narrow street and knocking down part of a warehouse behind her. Liz barely noticed the destruction, or the screams that came as the building toppled upon the workers inside. She did notice that Ted struggling not to fall out of her cleavage. But as he clung to her bra for dear life, she ignored his plight.

Liz scanned the streets below her. A parked car, a few garbage cans, a dumpster, some empty barrels, and the assorted detritus of L.A.'s industry. Then she saw movement: a man raised his head from behind a dumpster to sneak a look up at her, then timidly ducked back behind.

"Hey, little guy, I see you. Don't be scared. Come out, so I can pick you up..." 

The man stayed firmly behind the dumpster. Liz, never much for patience, decided to pick him up anyway. She scooped her hand under the pavement, which crumbled in her palm like sand. In her palm were the man, a dumpster, and crumbling concrete, which she lifted up to her face. Even now, in the palm of her hand, the man was trying to hide behind the dumpster. She carefully nudged the dumpster off of her hand, sending it careening to the ground below. Finally, Liz could see him. It was a nebbish, nerdy-looking, bespectacled young man, wearing a wrinkled Polo shirt and jeans. 

"Oh god oh god oh god please don't kill me--"

I promise I won't hurt you. So, what's your name, little guy?"

"I can't believe this is happening, I mean... Brian. My name's Brian. Oh my god, you're Liz! From the TV!"

"Yep, that's me!"

"My god, you're so... big! You're like a skyscraper! And you're a princess, right?"

"Yep. Listen, though, I wanted to tell you... I'm sorry about your dog..."

"I can't believe I'm talking to a princess!"

"Brian, aren't you all sad about your little doggy?"

"He was a cute little thing, but it's not my dog. I was just walking it to make a little money. "

Ted, who was still trying to climb back into Liz's cleavage, finally piped up. "See, it's not even his dog. Can we ditch this loser and get on with things?"

Liz shot back. "Shut up, Ted! I don't even like you anymore! I'm trying to get to know my new friend."

"Oh god, you're not seriously going to try and be friends with Comic Book Guy here, are you?"

"I'm going to do whatever I want because YOU DON'T OWN ME TED! You're the loser! If I say Brian is my new best friend, he's my best friend. And he is. So, best friend Brian, I was going to go and see what I got for my new present. Do you want to ride in my cleavage?"

"Umm, sure, that sounds good, I guess."

"You sound kind of nervous..."

"Well, it's just that, umm... Yours are really big, and... I've never touched a boob before..."

"Oh, well let's make up for lost time!"

Ted who had finally climbed back up between Liz's cleavage, had an irritated look on his face. "No, I'm just going to go ahead and veto that one. No way is this guy riding next to me. I don't want to catch his virginity."

Liz flashed a mischievous smile. "Oh, he won't be riding with you. You're going to be riding elsewhere."

"Aw, Liz, seriously, don't put me in your pocket again."

"Oh, you're not going to be riding in my pocket. You've been bad. It's time for your punishment."

Liz hastily plucked up Ted from between her cleavage, before reaching down into the back of her jeans. It took Ted a second to realize what she was doing.

"Oh god, no, Liz, please! Don't put me there! Remember what happened when you got drunk and put those frat guys back there! Please, Liz, I don't want to mmph mpph mummmummph mppph..."

"Hope you enjoy your ass time, Ted. If you don't try and escape, I might let you out when we get to the docks."

Ted was now wedged firmly between Liz's butt cheeks. She had used 'ass time' as punishment before, for paparazzi and lesser employees, but never for Ted. Liz imagined he'd be okay; after all, most of others had survived. Ted should be okay, as long as she didn't flex her butt too much. Then again, Liz always flexed a lot when she walked...

"I'll try not to flex too hard and crush you between my tight little ass cheeks. After all, I'd hate to stain my jeans with your gross jerk blood! Oh, and I forgot to mention, but I did have some Mexicans food, I mean, Mexicans, earlier for lunch..."

"Now Best Friend Brian, it's time for you to take your rightful place between my tits. Stand still..."

Liz carefully picked up Brian from between her thumb and index finger. People were such tiny, delicate things to Liz... She tried her hardest to be gentle with them, but all it took was one little mistake before she heard that familiar crunch. Liz gently set Brian down in her cleavage, facing forward. Brian, wedged firmly between her mountainous breasts, stared up at Liz with a look of wonder.

"How do you like your new seat?"

"This... is... incredible."

"Glad you enjoy it. Now let's go find my new present!

"Oh. My. Fucking. God. I have the best Mom ever. It's a car!"

And what a car it was. Straddling two cargo ships was a gargantuan Hummer H2, scaled up to Liz's colossal size. The truck was a beast, lifted and modded with gigantic monster truck tires. It was bigger than the superdome,  and painted bright pink. Liz had never been happier in her life.

"I've always wanted a car! I mean, one that's my size. Every birthday since I turned 16 I've asked my Mom for a car, and all I ever got were these little Porsches that were like toys to me. I mean, it was still fun to stomp on the tiny cars while my servants tried to drive away, but you smash them once and you're done... I never thought I'd actually be able to drive a car. This is the best day ever!"

Liz gleefully made her way to the car, shimmying along the edge of a cargo ship. She walked along ship with her characteristic clumsiness, toppling over stacks of shipping containers and crushing dozens of crewmen underneath. The already overburdened ship rocked precariously in the water, and seemed ready to crack in half as Liz opened the car door and climbed into the Hummer's driver's seat.

Liz noted a letter on the dashboard. "Hi Liz, Happy Birthday! Sorry your present is a little late. The better part of Mandarin-speaking China has been working to assemble this thing for years. It was supposed to be done months ago, but you know how lazy those Oriental are. 

Everything was specially built and scaled up to your size--well, a bit bigger than that, actually. i figured I'd leave some room in case you grow bigger! i made sure they left it with a full tank. The frame is made from a high-tech, space-age steel alloy, so it should be able to withstand your weight. (Speaking of which, do you need a gym membership? I've seen some of your cute little show on the Television, and you've been looking a bit soft.)

I hope you're having fun! Just enjoy yourself, and don't worry too much about what other people think. Those Americans don't deserve to be so much as a stain on your heel. And don't worry about getting in trouble with Mr. Obama, either--I've got his balls in a vice. These Americans are so wonderfully naive, volunteering to give up their nuclear arsenal because it's 'the right thing to do...' Well I still have mine! If he so much as tries to lay a finger on you, I'll nuke the East Coast so hard even the rubble will be in rubble. 

Love you honeybuns! --Mom"

***

"Oh Mom, she's so sweet..." Liz grabbed the key off the dashboard and switched on the ignition. The engine roared to life.

Faint, muffled screams came from under where Liz was sitting. "Mmpph! Let me out! You'll crush mmphh!" 

"Oh god, Ted, will you shut up! These seats are soft, you'll be fine under there. Probably." Liz fumbled around with the dashboard as she figured out how to turn off the Emergency Brake and put the car in gear. "Guess what time it is? Joyride time! Let's take this thing through L.A.!"

Brian, nestled between Liz's cleavage, timidly looked up at his newfound friend. "Umm, Liz?"

"Yeah, Brian?" Liz smiled sweetly.

"So, I was thinking, weren't you trying not to kill so many people?"

"Yep! I'm trying to be nicer."

"Well... Won't driving your gigantic death car through the city kill a lot of people? And animals?"

Liz looked concerned for a moment, before the look washed off her face. "I mean... Yeah, I guess, but... I really need this, and... Come on, I got a new car! Come one, just this once, I've gotta go on a joyride! It's gonna be so much fun!" With that, Liz stepped on the gas. She slammed her foot down hard, pushing the pedal to the floor. The wheels spun on the tarmac of the twin cargo ships, spinning idly for a moment before they got traction. The wheels got traction, sending the gargantuan vehicle shooting forward and splitting the cargo ships in half. Liz didn't look in the rearview mirror, or she would have seen two of the world's biggest cargo ships going down in flames, along with the better part of their crew.

***

Liz turned on the radio. Barbie Girl was playing; Liz cranked up the radio as high as it would go, and started to sing along. Every window in a ten mile radius immediately shattered. Only Liz's car windows, which were made of a space-age polymer, stayed intact. "Woo! Let's smash L.A.! Going to take a joyride on the highway!" Liz screamed out with joy.  The bright pink Hummer roared into L.A., crushing everything in its path with its huge monster-truck wheels, each nearly a hundred feet wide.  

"I'm a Barbie Girl, in a Barbie World!" She made her way onto the freeway, not that her new hummer was going to be confined to something as puny as a highway. Liz drove so her right tire was on the freeway, her hundred-fifty foot-wide tires just wide enough to crush all six lanes of traffic. Her left tire, meanwhile, smashed it's way through a series of neighborhoods, cute downtown shops and boutiques.

"I'm made of plastic, it's fantastic!" The cars in the Northbound lane tried to outrun Liz's car, but it was no use. As huge as the Hummer was, Liz could do 200 MPH without even trying. The southbound lane quickly became a mess of nasty pile-ups as cars tried in vain to stop or swerve away from the highway. But the huge wheels came down upon the traffic like gigantic steamrollers, smashing everything in their path to dust. Cars were flattened like tinfoil, and the pavement was mashed deep into the ground. One freeway overpass after another toppled under the enormous wheels. On the other side, countless homes and shops were flattened as people tried in vain to escape the oncoming doom. 

"Oh my," said Brian meekly, "you seem to be running over a lot of people..."

"You can touch my hair, undress me anywhere!" Some of those she drove over were lucky enough to be between the tires. They watched in awe as the car's chassis passed overhead like some enormous mothership. But they didn't survive for long; the hummer shook the earth below it like a powerful earthquake, toppling even the sturdies buildings and rupturing the very earth itself. Wide cracks opened in the ground, swallowing cars and homes and people. 

"Imagination, something-something station!" Liz headed towards a business district, where towering skyscrapers stretched up above the skyline; a couple of them were even taller than Liz's car. Liz made a bee-line towards some of the smaller structures, smashing one building after another into the grill of her Hummer. Thousands of cars and pedestrians were smashed into nothingness under the unyielding power of the tires. Then she made her way towards the taller skyscrapers. It gave way in a moment, toppling over and smashing down upon the ground. Cement and steel rained down upon the streets, and a thick cloud of smoke rose through the air. 

Brian muttered to himself, "Oh dear, that probably killed a lot of people... Hundreds of thousands, I bet..."

"Come on Barbie, let's go party!" She started to do donuts, whipping in circles and destroying everything below her. Entire city blocks were smashed into nothingness below her car, one after another, and the city for miles around was destroyed by the earthquake her car caused. 

The hummer spun in tighter and tighter circles, rupturing the ground more and more, as Liz stepped on the gas. The engine purred as Liz pushed the engine to it's limits. "Mmm, I really like that vibration..." 

Liz stomped down on the gas pedal. The hummer suddenly spun out out control. The car flipped over violently, wrecking dozens of city blocks as tumbled around before coming to a rest on its side.

"Woah..." Liz, disoriented, but no worse for the wear, looked around to get her bearings. Then, suddenly, she yelled, "That was fun!"

“God, I hate beauty contests. Really who cares about that shit, it’s all such meaningless bullshit… A bunch of idiotic bimbos dressing up like sluts so some gross old man can decide who’s the hottest… And they never even pick me! The last time I competed in one, they gave this skinny little bimbo first place, can you believe it? So I took all the judges and stuck them between my tits, so they could see what a real woman looks like. And then I pushed my tits together, until those idiots turned into goo, and then I ripped off that little bitch’s head and… wait, I’m not boring you, am I Brian? Going on about the tedious details of my day-to-day life?”

Brian looked up at Liz, red-faced, a tiny speck buried between her cleavage.  “No, that was definitely an… interesting story. It’s just that, well, I was wondering… Why are you going to a beauty contest if you hate them so much?”

“Well, usually I just go to them so I can kill all those stuck-up bitches, but today I had another reason… I wasn’t going to tell you just yet, but… You know how earlier, you told me about how you’ve never had a girlfriend before? Well I felt so bad about your dog, I figured maybe if would make you feel better if you got a chance to, well, lose your v-card. And what better place than a beauty contest?”

Brian was blushing. “Oh, geez… Elizabeth, I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea… I mean, I’m kind of shy, and I don’t know if that’s such a great idea anyway… I mean, how is a guy like me supposed to get with a beauty queen?”

“Oh Brian, you just wait and see, I’ve got it all figured out. Now Brian, do you mind if I set you down for just a minute? I’ve got to run to the restroom really quickly…”

“Sure, I guess that’s okay, but…” but before he could finish his sentence, Liz set him down on the sidewalk below.

As Liz walked away, Brian was suddenly reminded of the immensity of what was going on. Liz’s footsteps shook the ground, so much that he had a hard time standing up. Her careless steps smashed through buildings and came down upon people and cars. Cars swerved and people ran for their lives and chaos followed in her path. People ran, terrified past Brian, trying to get themselves as far as possible from the walking natural disaster that had been so sweet to him. One man stopped and stared at Brian, an awestruck look on his face.

“She… She let you go? Liz, the Destroyer?”

“Yeah, of course she let me go. She said that she had to use the bathroom...”

“The bathroom? Oh dear god, I was going to meet my family at a restaurant!” Without another word, the man spirited away.

“The destroyer,” Brian muttered to himself, “that seems a little harsh… Although I guess to be fair, she does destroy a lot of stuff… But she can’t really help it, at her size…” It wasn’t more than five minutes later that Liz came back. She made her way back down the same busy street she’d trod on earlier, making a point of stepping on the cars and people she’d missed before. When she got close to the building Brian was standing by, she knelt down and squinted, looking closely at the some people nearby him.

“Brian? Brian, is that you? Damn it, all you little people look alike.” She picked up an old woman, inspecting her. Liz quickly realized that it wasn’t him, and flicked her away with her index finger, sending the screaming woman flying several blocks through the air. “Brain? No…” She was just about to pick up an obese man, before realizing it wasn’t him, and nonchalantly flattening his body against the ground with the tip of her pinky finger. “Brian? Where are you?”

“Oh geez, it’s me, Elizabeth, I’m over here! You didn’t have to hurt all those people…”

“Oh, who cares. God, I feel about five tons lighter. Literally.”

“Where does a girl like you go to the bathroom?”

“That reminds me of an old joke… Where does a 300-foot tall girl sit? Wherever the fuck she wants to! But for serials, I usually just find a nearby restaurant. They have signs on the front door that say, ‘public restroom…’ So I figure that means I can use it as one…”

“A restaurant? So why not just use the Taco Bell across the street?”

“Eww, gross, I wouldn’t be caught dead taking a dump on a Taco Bell! So dirty! No, I like to find a nice, trendy, upscale place, someplace classy… That way I can go to the bathroom on all those pretentious fucking yuppies! Man, I can just picture the looks on their little faces, just before you drop a big one on them… It cracks me up, every time. And there are always plenty of bystanders to use as toilet paper… But look at me, talking about all this gross stuff. Not very ladylike, is it? Let’s fucking get you laid!”