15
Moe, like the majority of the other dock workers froze and stared, slack-jawed and flabbergasted ludicrously heavy crates of oaken wood and steel they had laboriously strained to move and carefully stack in neat, blocky rows in the spacious waterside warehouse began at first to shudder and then bounce excitedly. Their astonishment darkened to fear and panic when the yellow lights began to flicker and a raucous, uneven thunder began to echo through the salty, stagnant air.
It droned ever closer and the boxes and containers hopped higher and higher as it grew in volume and apparent proximity. They fell back down haphazardly and crooked. The once neat rows began to shift and lean, throwing droves of workers into sudden sinister shadows. They began to bolt for the exits, screaming for their lives, too late for the most part. The boom was a deafening roar now. Crates and boxes tumbled over enmasse and threw themselves ruthlessly upon the cowed laborers.
Moe stopped mid-sprint as he heard, under and around the roar, a tell-tale creaking behind him. He peered, cringingly upward and saw a wall of cargo falling towards him. He was reminded of losing at Jenga. He had never been any good at that game. He threw his meaty arms up and screamed. Suddenly he took a sharp blow to his side and tumbled to the ground.
He became entangled with a bleary-eyed co-worker that had, in a blind panic slammed into him. Two more men tripped over them as they struggled and also fell prone and helpless beneath the plummeting crates. The heavy boxes crashed over them with a sickening wet squelch and shattered themselves. Their contents spilled out and suffocated any that might’ve feebly survived the initial trauma.
Seconds later, Pan’s foot smacked down on the warehouse’s wide, corrugated roof and pressed cruelly as it bore her weight. The building popped beneath her like a balloon. Its final breath was an ear-splitting metallic screech to the surviving crew desperately trying to escape their gruesome fates. Pan giggled. To her this wretched cacophony was merely a tinny crinkle, like a crunching beer can. Her foot flattened out and her toes flexed and fanned, pressing the roof crackling into the concrete floor, grinding all the goods and trapped workers into a messy, bloody pulp. The walls bulged and exploded spraying jagged debris. Fleeing workers fell injured and dead as the deadly shrapnel battered and flayed them.
Another skip, then Pan landed with both feet. A dusty geyser of splintered wood and doomed, crying people burst into the air as her exaggerated landing crushed docks to tinder. She hunched down, her feet pressing deep pulverized littles into cool, wet sand. The lean muscles of her legs tensed and rippled in their work , and she launched suddenly into the air. She folded them into her bosom and wrapped her arms around them and she playfully held her nose, thrusting her posterior outward “CANNNNONNNBALLLL!,” She laughingly bellowed as she soared over the water and her shadow fell over a cluster of tiny boats.
Fisherman, sailors and middle-aged boating enthusiasts jumped overboard and harried, fear-heightened cries of “ABANDON SHIP!!!,” sounded from her quickly darkening shadow as her rounded bum whistled towards them like a falling warhead. It met the water with a thunderous clap.
Many desperate swimmers were killed instantly by the force and trauma generated by her unprecedented ‘buttbomb’; their bones shattered, lungs collapsed and hearts stopped by the concussive force. Several of the smaller fishing boats likewise exploded into kindling against her firm rump.
Other boats and persons were trapped beneath her uncompromising weight as she speedily sank into the harbor. Her buttcheeks pressed them into and crushed them against the mucky seafloor.
Water shot up in powerful fountains around her and carried little ships and flea-sized people high into the air. They fell tumbling head over heels in the air. Many bounced off or slid against her monolithic young body. Several came to rest upon her; marooned on her ample curves and warm, slippery skin.
The rest of the people and ships rolled disoriented and helpless in the tumultuous waves produced by her childish bottom-first dive. Many were pulled to drowning deaths by vicious undercurrents. They perished soundlessly; their final screams trapped in frantic streams of bubbles racing to a world they would never see again.
Torrential towering tidal waves; veritable monsoons rippled from her and pounded at nearby docks and shorelines. They lashed at sea-side buildings and cast clumsily reeling ships, wreckage and people smashing against them. Salty green water flooded sidewalks and streets, washing away more screaming masses and cars. They finally washed themselves to shallow ends deeper within the surrounding cityscape, but left millions of dollars of damage, injuries and death; literally in their wake.
Pan let out a chuckling yelp as her bottom smacked against the soggy ground. It seemed the harbor was not as deep as she had hoped. In her current sitting position, the cool water lapped against her belly-button, hips and long, arched legs. It felt wondrous as it kissed her previously sun-beaten skin.
Pan plunged her hands into the sea with a great splash, cupped them and held them before her freckled visage. Her wicked smile returned as she saw tiny people bobbing amongst the flotsam and jetsam and broken vessels trapped in the pool of water she had seized.
Most of them floated limply, either dead or unconscious, but some stirred in exaggerated, spastic movements, clearly still alive and struggling to remain that way and absolutely terrified of her. Her arrogant, bellowing laughter smothered their mortified squeals and inconsequential pleas for mercy and aid.
She closed her eyes and splashed the water over her boilingly hot face and chest. She reveled in the water’s cooling embrace and giggled as little bits of debris and tiny victims tickled her nerves as they spattered against her.
Pan did this with several more handfuls of water until her whole body was sopping wet and cool. A sigh of relief escaped her sumptuous lips and she leaned back a bit. Her beautiful hands dipped into the churning sea behind her. The soft, finely-lined skin of her palms and fingers crushed more ships and people into the seafloor as they crashed down to support her.
Her feet played excitedly beneath the water’s glimmering surface. They dug back and forth against the harbor floor and splashed in and out of the revitalizing water.
Pan’s cute, ever-wriggling toes cut through the water like sharks’ fins before slinking beneath the surface. They battered and broke boats in their path and buffeted them with unrelenting waves. Sputtering swimmers became ensnared in the pungent crevices betwixt Pan’s squirming pink monstrosities. They popped and crunched as she playfully scrunched up and relaxed her pretty, pedicured digits and crushed the hapless little bugs to death.
Her heels plowed through and carved cavernous trenches into the seafloor. Her foot’s path brought it crashing into, over and through the meticulous ongoing excavation of the famous, timeworn wreck of a peerless, one-of-a-kind ship; a venture of pronounced historical significance and value, and the carefully-selected team of divers, scientists and historians working on it. Her graceful, delicately-furrowed sole uncaringly smashed them to unsalvageable ruin and ground them into formless oblivion.
Pan’s gaze slinked appreciatively over the length of her own reclining form. Her thin, sopping garments clung to her like ceran-wrap, and in their dripping semitransparency, revealed in tantalizing detail nearly every delicate nuance and lustful curve of her shameless, sinuous figure. Her radiant, sopping skin shimmered alluringly in the afternoon sun. A dusting of tiny ships, wreckage, and sputtering little people adorned her luxurious, summer-glazed form like sprinkles topping a rich confection. Pan’s mouth watered at the analogy and a familiar grumble resonated from her softly heaving tummy. A small, anticipatory sigh escaped her expectant, salivating mouth as she began to scrape and pluck the tiny treats readily stranded on her velvety skin.