Gilly was interrupted from her daydreaming when she noticed blinking red lights flashing in front of her eyes, about a foot, from her perspective, from her nose. Squinting to focus on them, she noted that there were a lot of them, arrayed out in a sort of grid pattern before her. At first, she thought that they were helicopters, but they seemed much too small even to her, and she realised that they had to be unmanned drones fitted with blinking lights. Clever, she thought, rather than risking her getting a little too playful with occupied craft. Curious as to what the tiny mites were up to, she lifted her head up a little from where it lay on her arm, dragged her ginger tresses through the streets below to ensnare hundreds of helpless victims within. She felt an itch on her scalp, and scratched it idly. Before her pretty face, the drones with their bright lights moved, emitting red-tinted smoke, and moved this way and that in a coordinated pattern. Fascinated, she realised that they were writing a message for her in the sky:
‘WE WANT TO TALK’, it said.
“Do you now?” asked Gilly, amused. “And who is ‘we’?”
The flickering lights moved again, erasing the old message and writing a new one: ‘THE US GOV’.
Surrender, perhaps? It was probably too soon for that, even after her dramatic show of power. A negotiation seemed more likely, but what could they possibly offer to a goddess that she could not simply take? Still, the thought intrigued her, and got her quite excited again.
“Just a second, loves.” Gilly’s hand at her crotch delved into her still-sensitive nether lips, her breathy sigh buffeted the drones and blew away the words in the sky as her fingers pinched around the base of the broken skyscraper still within her. She eased it out gradually, cooing softly, its rectangular form and edges crushed into a more soft, cylindrical shape that made it look even more like a dildo.
“Can’t have this stuck in my vag in a top-level chat,” she said, grinning, bringing the ruined skyscraper, still dripping with her juices, to her face to admire her handiwork. Then, simply because she thought it was funny, she turned this cylinder of wreckage upright and planted its base directly onto a small park, without bothering to check if any tiny mites were there first. Giggling naughtily, Gilly twisted the base of her toy into the park, burying the bottom few floors in the ground, until it could stand upright without her holding it; this pillar of twisted metal, smashed concrete, and her sexual fluids, entombing the people who were trapped inside and sacrificed for her lusts, would be a suitable monument to the indomitable power of her sexy, huge body.
“That’s better,” said Gilly, grinning inanely, then turned her attention back to the drones and wondered what the operators were thinking when they saw her do that. “So, t’ American government wants to talk to me? Alright then, go ahead.”
The drones were a little slow in returning back to position, but Gilly could afford to be patient. Once again, the red smoke carved capital letters in the sky before her: ‘FOLLOW THE FLARES >’.
Not even a ‘please’, Gilly thought; she might have to teach them some manners when addressing their goddess. Her gaze followed the arrow drawn in the sky to her right, towards the sea, where a series of flickering red and green flares, most likely from yet more unmanned drones, described a long, straight path directly over the sea before curving back onto land a ‘short’ distance out in the countryside beyond the city limits. There, she saw more flares emitting red, white, and blue smoke amidst a wide open field that was close to a highway leading out of the city, apparently signifying the location of whatever negotiation team they had assembled to speak with their new goddess. It was clear that they wanted her to avoid further death and destruction by taking the longer, harmless route out to sea, which was a noble goal with one significant flaw.
“Look, I get you’re new at this,” she said, her voice petulant. “But let me make one thing perfectly clear. I don’t take orders from you tiny mites.” She emphasised this point by pounding an oversized Wal-Mart under her fist, leaving only a deep crater under her chin behind. The drones scrambled in the air to try to form new words, but Gilly wasn’t having any of it; if they wanted to speak with her, they would do it on her terms, not theirs, and they had to learn who was truly in charge now. Her massive hands swatted them out of the sky like midges, then she brought them down to the ground, once again erasing hundreds of lives under them, and pushed her mountain-sized body up from the Gilly-shaped canyon it had made in the city.
Staggering to her feet, Gilly stretched her arms up to the sky, dispersing the clouds that had gathered above with her fingers, and then walked in a bee-line straight towards the red, white, and blue flares. The brief respite from her rampage the city had enjoyed was now over, and after that little insult Gilly was eager to make up for it. The direct path she took was straight through a previously undamaged part of the city, and she stomped merrily through it. Entire city blocks vanished in seconds under her feet; towering skyscrapers hundreds of feet tall were flattened instantly and thousands more lives were lost with each step, and she revelled in the sensation of everything being crushed under her divine soles. On a whim she looked down at what she was about to step on, and noticed that she was straddling a typically American, wide freeway carving its way through the suburban sprawl she was decimating with her feet, out of the city and into the wide open countryside beyond. It was absolutely filled with dots, all crawling at a snails’ pace away from her; an evacuation effort of some sort, she reasoned. Playful, evil giggles filled the air as she lifted her right foot and traced her big toe over the long winding path, leaving a deep channel where thousands of refugees packed into lorries and in family cars or even on foot were in desperate flight to leave had been.
Gilly carried on, now targeting her footsteps for maximum death and destruction; she would show the tiny fucks the folly of trying to boss their goddess around. A Costco disappeared underfoot, along with its sprawling car park and dozens of family homes nearby, then after that a leisure centre. Anything that looked remotely interesting or heavily populated, skyscrapers, tower blocks, offices, and hordes of tiny, scurrying specks, she just stepped on, so long as it wasn’t too out of her way. A few steps and a death toll exceeding six digits brought the towering goddess to the city’s edge, where the gathered negotiation party could only watch in stunned horror as she rejected their polite request in the most horrific way possible. The wide grin on her face indicated that, as with everything prior, she was enjoying herself immensely.
“Here I am!” she said cheerfully, standing before them with her hands on her hips and her feet covering many blocks of expensive suburbia. From up there, she could hardly see them amidst the pale green fields, only the coloured smoke signalling their position. She had no idea how this was going to work at all, but she reasoned that however they were going to make their worthless little points to her would have to involve her getting as close to them as she dared without squishing them. That, she thought, was going to involve being as careful as she could manage.
“And here I come!” warned Gilly, not that it would do anyone much good, as she began to lower herself down as gently as she could possibly manage. Her knees dropped onto the ground below, flattening dozens more little houses and sinking into deep craters, then planted her hands further ahead, likewise atop more homes. With the aim to lay on her front over the suburbs, with the delegation under her face, she began to lower herself down upon scores of fragile little houses and even more fragile little people.
***
James had survived. He was exhausted, his legs burned with the exertion of walking, and he was fairly certain he had shit himself in terror. He had no idea how or why he was still alive; his memory of that was very blurry, but somehow he was spared being stepped on by Gilly’s gigantic foot. By sheer blind luck, he thought, he must have found the one safe spot in the street, for once the dust cleared and the ringing in his ears had ceased he found himself in a barren, deserted street with huge, swimming pool-sized footprints stained crimson with blood and gore. In the distance, he saw Gilly’s huge, sexy form walking away from him, her stunning rear end wobbling with each cataclysmic step.
Numb from the shock, he barely registered that he couldn’t find Pat. For all he knew, his friend had just been crushed by his girlfriend, most likely unknowingly, and so, with no other option, James picked a direction and started walking. He had carried on walking while Gilly proceeded with her deadly, indulgent rampage, with the horrific sounds of her rumbling footsteps and the crash of concrete and the screams of her victims behind him, never looking back. As long as it was away from her, he reasoned that he would be safe; and then what? How could he, or anyone else caught up in this, return to a normal life after what he had just been through? He tried to ignore those thoughts, for they were something to deal with later. Others joined him in his exodus, likewise stunned, shocked, terrified survivors stumbling away on foot through streets clogged with the worst traffic jam in the world.
When she grew to her new impossible size, which made her old height of eight hundred feet tall seem puny by comparison, he carried on walking. There was no point anymore, to anything, really; either he would make it out alive or be stepped on, and, as before, it was purely a matter of a roll of a die whether or not he would find himself under her colossal feet. Yet now she was headed his way. James finally stopped in his walk, as day turned to night and he looked up to see the sky had turned into the biggest and sexiest pair of breasts that he had ever seen. With her gargantuan stature, they looked close enough for him to reach out and touch, though he knew they were many hundreds of feet above him, pendulous and swaying with every slight movement of her vast body, thick, engorged nipples pointing down mockingly at his puny form. As he stared dumbfounded at them, he remembered how just that morning, before she grew, how Gilly had pressed her perfect breasts against his slim body, and how warm, inviting, and big they felt. It would be apt, he thought, to be crushed beneath them, to feel them again one final time before they crushed the life out of him, even if only for a fraction of a second.
All around, people ran from Gilly, but he barely noticed until a woman with tears streaking the mascara down her face accidentally knocked into him, sending the both of them tumbling to the ground. They clung to each other as they rolled across the hard tarmac, and then came to a stop in a close embrace. Unable to stand and run or even move, James and this rather pretty woman clung to one another, and gazed up as the sky fell upon them. Closer and closer, until all was drowned in darkness. Finally, he clenched his eyes shut in anticipation of the end. His ears were filled with the sounds of a tremendous crashing and rumbling, as though the gates of hell were dragged open, which silenced the agonised screams coming from all around, and then all was still once more.
James opened his eyes and found that he and the strange woman were alive somehow. Ahead of them, Gilly’s massive bust smothered the suburban streets they had just walked through, and tilting their gaze up they followed her torso up to the curve of her neck. They had been spared, again by pure, blind, dumb luck, and the two of them embraced one another fiercely under the presence of their massive goddess.
***
Gilly thought she had done a good job. Granted, thousands were still crushed under her huge, sexy body in the process of her lying down, but the small group of people she wanted to spare, for now at least, seemed unharmed. She lay on her front, with her body stretched out over a mile long over the suburbs and her massive breasts forging deep craters in the pliant earth beneath her. Trying to get as close to the flares as she possibly could, she folded her arms and rested her chin on them, and peered down at the specks below. There were a lot of them! Standing amidst the still smoking flares, she saw perhaps hundreds of them packed into a space no bigger than her palm, which she mused would make it easier for her to express any displeasure at the way the ‘negotiations’ were going. Amidst the mob, she saw specks of a slightly larger size, which she took to be all manner of vehicles and equipment, but the disparity in size made it almost impossible for her to discern any kind of detail even at this ‘close’ range.
Still, nothing was forthcoming from the specks, who must have been reeling from her refusal to play by their rules, so she thought to encourage them.
“Well?” she said, her voice all but blasting the tiny people below her face. “I’m here now!”
Still nothing. The specks moved a little, but otherwise nothing useful came from them.
“It was really brave of you to bring me over here, little bugs,” she said, biting her lip. “But whatever it is you want you’d better hurry up, or I might get bored and, oh, I dunno, lick you all up off the ground.”
Gilly was considering making good on her threat, until a voice, thin, tinny, metallic, but instantly recognisable stopped her. It was one that she hadn’t expected to hear ever again, and to hear it now shocked her. “Gilly, pet, it’s Pat here.”
***
It had taken a considerable amount of urging from his handlers, mostly by pointing their guns at him, to encourage Pat to finally speak to his gigantic girlfriend; when offered amnesty and fair treatment for his apparent but unwilling involvement in her insane crimes in return for helping them try and talk some sense into her, he had readily accepted out of a lack of any other options. Yet when he came face-to-face with her, so to speak, with her face filling his vision above, the words struggled to come. She was still unmistakeably Gilly; he knew that cute button nose, her green eyes that seemed to shine whenever she was aroused (which was seemingly all the time), every freckle on her pale cheeks, and her plump, full lips, spread into a smile, which that morning had been wrapped around his cock in that dingy motel room. In truth, he was frozen in awe of her astonishing beauty, which only seemed enhanced after her growth, that he could do nothing but stand and gape uselessly at the impossible sight above him, with his erection tenting his trendy slim-cut chinos.
A threat from one of the many masked men with guns to shoot it off for him finally snapped him out of his stupor, and he spoke into the microphone provided. His voice, amplified by stadium speakers erected in front of him, seemed to have the desired effect. Gilly’s gleeful expression instantly changed to one of shock, as her great eyes widened and her mouth hung open to reveal a dark cave framed by white teeth the size of buildings.
“Pat?” she said, and he was grateful for the ear defenders the government had provided for him. Every word from her lips was like a hot gale blasting him full in the face. “Oh my god! Pat! Is that really you? What are you doing down there?”
He looked at his handlers, dozens of men in body armour and carrying submachine guns, as if those would be of any help if the gigantic Gilly decided to swat them all like tiny bugs. Next to him was a laptop perched atop a stack of boxes, and the image of the President, the most powerful man in the world, stared back at him expectantly. This was all beyond him; they expected him to somehow talk her down, after all of the horrific and cruel things she had done.
“Yeah,” he said, finding his throat dry all of a sudden. “It’s me. T’ American government picked me up and asked me to talk to you.”
“Oh.” A deep frown furrowed her brow. “They better be treating you right, or I’ll have to sort them out.”
A man with a gun grunted at him and nodded. “I’m fine,” said Pat, feeling far from fine. There was a jackhammer pounding inside his skull and nausea writhed in his stomach. “Gilly, they have your parents and Gina.”
Gilly was silent for a spell, though doubt and confusion was more than evident over her huge face. The tension was becoming almost unbearable for Pat, so in spite of himself he carried on speaking to fill the silence. “Gilly, what you’ve done… I can’t imagine why you would. But for their sake you have to stop, pet.”
“They wouldn’t dare,” said Gilly, her normally chirpy voice curiously level and flat. “I’m a goddess now, but you and my family are the only connections I have left with humanity. T’ whole world just saw a little bit of what I’m capable of; just imagine what I would do if they removed any reason for me to hold back.”
“Gilly, pet.” Pat paused, the words struggling to form; his girlfriend was not only a monster, she had lost her mind. “Do you really think you’re a goddess?”
“Pat, fucking look at me and tell me I’m not.”
It was hard to argue with that, from his position under her omnipotent gaze. “You want people to worship you?”
Her cheeky grin returned; she always had a fun smile, but at hundreds of feet wide it was downright terrifying. “They can, if they want. Some already started, but it makes no difference to me whether they do or not. I might have a little cult already!”
“Ask her what she wants,” said the President on the screen. “What are her demands?”
Pat nodded and swallowed hard. This would be the tricky part; he knew how to negotiate business deals on behalf of his company, but his mile-tall girlfriend was another matter entirely. “T’ President wants to know your demands.”
“Oh?” Gilly’s huge head tilted to one side in curiosity. “T’ President of the United States of America? Is he there with you?”
“He’s on a video call.”
Gilly snorted, which buffeted Pat and the entire area with a blast of her gale-force strength breath. “Figures,” she said. “It’s not nice of him to get you to ‘negotiate’ for him. I’ve half a mind to go and see him in person, but if he’s worried about losing his job now there’s a new goddess around then he can keep it. I’m going to need people to look after all t’ boring stuff while I rule the world.”
“Is… is that what you want?” It was insane, but as he stood there, an infinitesimally tiny speck beneath Gilly’s face, he thought she not only might do it, but also deserve it. “World domination?”
“I mean, yeah, what else is there for me?” Gilly made her obnoxious giggle. “I’m, well… actually, can you ask him how big I am now?”
Pat relayed the question, and though he expected a ridiculously high number, he was still floored when one of the men in dark suits standing next to the President on the screen provided the answer with startling accuracy. It was impossible, no one could be that size and still move, yet here was Gilly, defying all laws of sense, physics, and morality by merely existing.
“You’re six thousand three hundred and thirty seven feet tall,” he said. How they arrived at that precise number was something of a mystery, but he supposed they must have had some scientific way of figuring it out.
Gilly let out a small, impressed whistle that would have still been deafening were it not for his ear defenders. “More than a mile, nice! I think I’d have liked six thousand nine hundred and sixty nine feet just for t’ memes, but this is just so fucking cool! T’ biggest building in the world won’t even come up to my crotch.”
While Gilly was getting excited by a four digit number, the President barked at Pat to get her back on track, which was a tricky enough prospect even before she was too big. “Gilly,” he said into the microphone, “t’ President would like to know your demands.”
“Well, I could make governments submit to me, but that’d just be a formality. Pat, love, is t’ President actually listening to me on the video thing?”
He looked to the screen by his right, which showed the ashen-faced President sitting in grim silence at his desk, then back up at Gilly. “Yes, pet, he’s listening.”
“Good, now pay attention, Mr President.” Gilly cleared her throat, which sounded like a near thunder. “My name is Gillian Murphy, but you can all call me Gilly. I am now the goddess of the earth. I am fucking huge; I cannot be stopped or controlled, so don’t even bother to try it again or you’ll see just how much bigger I can get. If you think you can use my family against me like that you are wrong. Any harm that comes to them or Pat here will be repaid by t’ destruction of every single one of your cities; none of you will be safe and I will have so much fun doing it. You are all nothing but tiny mites before me, mine to do with as I please, and your best chance of surviving my new world order is to do what I say.”
She let the impact of her words sink in, until she broke into a mad grin and giggled as if at a private joke. “Oh wow, I think that came out well for something I just made up on t’ spot. I think I got the point across, right Pat?”
“Yes, dear.” Pat looked at the screen, where the President had turned an unhealthy shade of white and green.
“Cheer up, Pat, your girlfriend’s a goddess now! You were always an ambitious chap, and I’m going to need someone to organise everything between me and t’ governments once everything’s settled down.”
“I…” It was pointless to argue with her, Pat had quickly realised that by now, and judging by the stony silence he was getting from both the video link with the President and from everyone else around him he wasn’t alone in that revelation. Trying to speak sense to the living proof that absolute power corrupts absolutely was beyond his meagre abilities; he was used to presenting products and tech to investors, not explaining to his gigantic girlfriend that stepping on people is wrong. Where was he supposed to even start with that? He looked to the screen again, and the President, looking as forlorn and exhausted as much as he probably did, nodded his head gravely.
“Thank you,” said Pat finally, with the feeling that he had just accepted a poison chalice. But if not him, then who else? Perhaps, he thought, he might be the only person who could rein in the worst of Gilly’s excesses even to a modest degree. The nausea in his gut only got worse, and though he hadn’t eaten all day he felt prepared to vomit.
“Anyway,” said Gilly, “it was nice chatting with you, and say ‘hi’ to James for me if he turns up somewhere. He’s a clever little guy, and cute, so he must have made it out, somehow. I’m sure you’ll need an assistant or something in your new job. You’re going to need an official title, so you go and think of something while I’m gone.”
“Wait!” shouted Pat into the microphone. “Where are you going?”
“I’m still on holiday, love, so I’ll do some more sight-seeing, maybe. I feel like a nap, though, you know how I like to doze off after a good fuck.”
“Just try not to…” He trailed off, struggling to find the words to describe the disturbing, horrible, and, as he only dared to admit in the darkest reaches of his own psyche, sexy things he had watched Gilly do all day. “Try not to harm anyone, alright? You had your fun.”
“Oh, Pat.” Gilly sighed with a fond, cute little smile on her pretty face. “I thought I made it clear with my speech! I guess it’s hard for you to get your tiny little head around it. No one can tell me what to do anymore. I can do whatever t’ fuck I want, and no one can stop me. I’ll leave you and t’ President to talk things through, and I’ll see you… well, you’re too small for me to see, I’ll hear you again soon.”
“Wait, Gilly!”
She didn’t hear, or rather she just ignored his plea. The living mountain before them lifted herself off the ground, rising higher and higher and far faster than anything of that size had any right to. A wave of vertigo struck Pat as he watched his girlfriend, though whether he could still call her that remained in the air, stand up to her full goddess height, disrupting a few white, puffy clouds in the process. She stood there with her stance wide atop the curvy canyon her body had made atop suburbia, hands on her hips and peering down between her hill-like breasts, letting him and everyone else in their delegation drink in the sheer magnitude of her size for a few good moments. Then, apparently satisfied that their puniness had been thoroughly impressed upon them, she lifted her right hand, waved it a few times, and then stepped over them.
Pat craned his neck back, looking up at Gilly as she passed overhead. Her foot landed half a mile behind him, and he heard the deep ‘boom’ and felt the reverberation through the ground moments after her sole had made contact with the yielding earth. Staring up, he followed the line of her seemingly endless legs up to heaven, her pussy, which he remembered fucking in far happier times, was visible where her thick thighs met. His view of her glorious vulva was quickly obscured by the sole of her other foot sweeping rapidly overhead, which along with its partner had claimed so many lives that day, and the goddess strolled on into the wide open countryside.
As her gargantuan form receded to the horizon, and the rhythmic tremors through the ground beneath him became less and less noticeable, Pat turned to the still-silent image of the President on the screen. Absently, he let his arms fall by his sides, dropping the microphone to the ground by his feet. “We’re fucked, aren’t we?” he said, and quickly added a “Sir”.
The President could only nod in agreement.
***
One year later
The staff of the local S-Mart supermarket gathered in the break room, save for the skeleton crew still serving customers out front, and watched the TV, tuned to the local news channel.
“Gilly’s current location is approximately thirty miles west of Fairfax. She appears to be heading in a southerly direction, but it’s difficult to predict her intentions. The Department for Giantess Affairs has yet to put out a statement, implying that this is another unplanned visit by the goddess, but we anticipate one shortly. Meanwhile, residents in the area are advised to seek shelter immediately. If she should visit your town you are reminded to follow her instructions promptly and without delay.”
The TV showed a map of the county, with the location of where their state capital used to be marked out in red, where Gilly had sat on the entire city just a few months ago in a fit of pique. It had yet to be rebuilt, and people wondered what was the point of building anything if she was just going to destroy it for fun. Her location was illustrated with a cut-out of her smiling face, and it was not lost on the assembled staff that she seemed to be heading in their direction.
“Enough of that shit.” Gary, the manager, turned off the TV with the remote. “She ain’t coming here, so get back to work.”
“Are you insane?” blurted out Jeff, a teenaged bagger. “You heard the news, we need to find shelter.”
“Yeah, you think that’ll protect you from her?” There was no response, no one was under any illusion about their chances of survival if caught under her feet. No man-made shelter could possibly withstand the goddess’ might. “That’s what I thought. Corporate says we stay open. People in this town need their food rations, so get back to it.”
There was a collective grumble among the assembled staff, but they nevertheless slinked off back to work. As the break room emptied, Jeff let out an exasperated sigh; someone had to be the hardass jerk to motivate them to do their jobs, and it fell upon him. In spite of the strange and appalling events of the previous year, with the sudden appearance of this gigantic woman who called herself a goddess, life carried on. It had to. There was no other choice.
The world had reached an equilibrium of sorts with its new goddess. Her existence was impossible and unexplainable, but she was as real as the barren footprints she had left where teeming metropolitan centres once thrived. An entire global economy was created to keep this ditzy, horny giant woman occupied for long enough for her not to make her own entertainment at the expense of any local population centres, while the rest of the world scraped by. It worked, mostly, and after a world tour that had a death toll that could only be estimated by adding up the last known population statistics of cities and towns she destroyed - London, New York, Dubai, and others he couldn’t remember, things had finally settled down. “I don’t want to rule over a lifeless ball of mud,” she had infamously said, addressing the UN building she held in her deep cleavage, before turning it into rubble between her massive breasts, as she sat atop the ruins of Manhattan.
Yet for the small, unremarkable Mid-Western town of Upminster, life carried on with deceptive normalcy, and Jeff was determined to keep it that way; the goddess couldn’t possibly be interested in their tiny little town. He followed his team out into the corridor, and nearly bumped into Bob, his assistant manager, who was trying to grab his attention.
“Gary!” he said, waving despite being in his face. “Security picked up a shoplifter.”
Gary glared at the short, middle-aged man. “So? Let them sort it out.”
“He’s refusing to pay for it, and, uh, he’s a little weird. Says it’s not going to matter soon.”
Gary stared at Bob, then realised his assistant manager wasn’t about to let this go. “Fine, I have to do everything myself around here.”
The two slipped into the shop floor, past aisles filled with customers, to the front where a dishevelled man in his early 20s, wearing an unironed shirt, jeans, and a waistcoat, stood by the door under the watch of a burly security guard. He was tall, though he hunched, bald, and had a scraggly beard that hadn’t been combed in a while. The guard held the attempted stolen goods - a six-pack of cheap beer.
“Alright, what’s this about?” demanded Gary.
“He just tried to walk out with it,” said the security guard. “Straight past me. Didn’t even try to hide it.”
Gary turned to the dishevelled man. Something seemed very familiar about him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. “Is that true?”
The man shrugged. “Yeah, why not?” His accent was strange, some sort of British, Gary thought.
“You need to pay for it.”
“Trust me, that won’t matter very soon.”
“Oh?” Gary folded his arms in annoyance. “And just why is th…”
His words trailed off when he noticed that he could hear people screaming from outside the shop. Instantly, his blood ran cold when he figured out who was trying to steal beer from his shop and what that meant. The floor under his shoes trembled slightly, but it did it again, and again, heavier each time.
“I can’t bloody escape her,” said Pat, mostly to himself. “Can’t even have a day to myself like a normal person.”
Gary barely heard Pat’s lament as he walked outside into the parking lot, and with similarly stunned customers there he looked to the northern horizon to see it dominated by a colossal female figure, walking in their direction.
The most feared, hated, and lusted-for woman in all of human history was heading straight for them. More than a mile tall, she seemed to get bigger with every step closer. She was nude, as ever, except for a strip of chain around her broad hips from which hung a tarpaulin bag containing various supplies for her and her entourage. Around her neck was a length of cable, and from this makeshift necklace the Statue of Liberty hung like a pendant between her massive, swaying breasts; the suspension bridge she had taken the cable from lay at the bottom of the river, along with everyone who had been caught on it trying to escape New York, only because she wanted a necklace. Her expression was serene as she looked down upon the town as she approached.
“Oh, shit,” said Gary, a sentiment that was shared by everyone. The day they had dreaded for a year had finally come; the goddess had come to visit.
Gilly’s lips moved, and a few seconds later her powerful voice reached them. “Oh, Pat? Where are you?”
Pat and the security guard joined them in the parking lot. He reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out a cellphone, and spoke into it. “I’m here, in t’ town that’s directly in your path, by t’ supermarket. Please be careful with it, pet.”
Gary watched as Gilly absently touched her ear, where the earpiece that allowed her to communicate with at least a few of her favourite subjects was. “Oh alright, love,” she said. “It’s so small.”
He certainly felt small, as Gary continued to watch her approach, having to start tilting his head back to see her pretty, cute face. Others in the parking lot watched with a similar sense of awe and hopelessness, almost too exhausted for fear, though some broke into hysterical sobbing. A few had even fallen to their knees in worship of her.
“Here.” Pat offered Gary a can of beer from the six pack he had stolen, having lifted it from the shell shocked security guard seemingly rendered mute by the sight of Gilly.
“Thanks,” said Gary, accepting the drink. They opened the cans and drank together, and watched the goddess of the world reach the outskirts of their small town until the earthquakes from her steps made it difficult to stand. Like Pat had said, it wouldn’t matter very soon.
End.