The table was set, dishes and glasses placed equidistant around the table. The sun was on the verge of setting, its orange rays coming in through the large bay window, illuminating the table with its otherworldly hue. Two of the girls were already seated, Emily at one end, texting away at her phone, Jo at the other, playing with a loose strand of hair that had fallen in her face. Somewhere in between, all but invisible, was Geof, still struggling to be found.

After the events of the hallway, he had spent a few hours recovering from the pain. He was sure at least one of his ribs had been broken, but other than that nothing seemed to be that badly injured. Bruises, possibly a torn muscle, but nothing he couldn’t live through. Considering what had happened, knowing how feeble he was compared to these gods, Geof considered himself lucky.

The girls had then begun dinner, the kitchen coming alive with activity. He started to smell the delicious food, knowing full well that eating any of it would be nearly impossible. Perhaps he could dig around the garbage after though. That's what bugs did, right?

Eventually he reached a decision. He wasn’t going to be content with simply surviving off of his sister’s scraps. He needed to be found, and he figured the best time for that would be during dinner. All the girls would be looking at their food. If he could just get next to their plate one of them might spot him. Of course, he’d have to avoid being eaten.

The trek to the table had been exhausting. The house was a mess, clothing tossed haphazardly about, covering almost every inch of the floor. He found himself climbing over bras, squirming under his sister’s panties. More than once he found himself inside the toe end of a sock. It all smelled, it was disgusting, but it was what he needed to do.

After hours, he finally made it to the table, then managed to climb up one of the legs thanks to the intricate design that was carved into it. He reached the top, still in one piece, and that much closer to his main goal. All he needed to do was somehow reach the girls, and his ordeal would be over.

At least that is what he hoped. He still had his doubts about what his sisters would think about him in this state. Finding their micro brother, completely helpless, probably literally in the palm of their hand. They wouldn’t kill him, of that he was sure, but still.

He could remember a few years ago, back when he was still a little kid, when his sisters would gang up on him. They would make fun of him, call him short… sometimes they'd even pin him down and make him sniff their feet, asking him, “How does it smell stupid?” Just the thought was enough to send a shiver up his spine. What would their feet smell like at this size?

He shook himself then, knowing that such thoughts wouldn’t bring him anything good. He needed help, and being worried about things like that wasn’t going to do any good. Still, if given the choice he would want Jo to find him. So, without any more gruesome thoughts, he set off in her direction.

“How are things going in there?” Emily shouted, looking up from her phone for a brief second.

“Almost done. Just give me a second,” Erin answered from the kitchen.

“Hey, you guys hear anything about Geof?” Jo then asked, still fidgeting with that strand of hair, twisting it around her slender finger.

“Nope,” was Emily’s answer. “Who cares?”

“Well, it's just odd, you know? He doesn't usually come back this late. And shouldn’t he have at least called?”

“Maybe he died,” came Erin’s voice from the kitchen.

“Did you try calling him or something?” Emily asked, not really caring.

“Yeah.”

“He didn’t answer?”

“No.”

“Then fuck him.”

Jo rolled her eyes, biting her lip lightly. “Still. I hope nothing happened.”

“Oh, stop worrying,” Erin said, pushing through the door, a dish of steaming lasagna clutched in oven mits, the smell of it instantly spreading through the air. She quickly made her way over to the table, each step shaking it just enough to cause Geof to almost lose his balance. “He probably just got mugged.”

“Maybe raped,” Emily put in.

“Shot in the gut.”

“Near fatal car crash?”

“Knife to the spine.”

“Trapped in an elevator, slowly going insane.”

“Mauled by a bare?” It was so comforting to know how much his sisters cared about him.

“Whatever. The point is, he probably isn’t dead.”

“Yep. Now eat,” Erin said, plopping the still steaming tray of pasta in the middle of the table. “Well, actually, let it cool for a second. Here, I’ll get us the drinks.”

Geof was almost at Jo’s plate by this time, his legs burning with exhaustion, his lounges feeling as if someone was plunging a knife into his side with every exhale. But he was so close now, he couldn’t just give up.

A few moments later he reached her plate. Without giving the idea much thought, he leapt onto the high lip, using all of his strength to pull himself up onto the cold porcelain. “Jo!” he instantly started shouting, pushing himself to his feet. “Jo, look down. It’s me! I’m here! Down here!”

Minutes passed by without anyone noticing the tiny little thing on Jo’s plate. They started by nibbling on bread, waiting patiently for the steaming dish to cool enough to eat, the scent enticing and tempting them. Even Geof found himself wishing that he could have a bight of his sister’s delicious cooking. But, despite that, he continued to jump and scream.

“Hey, when's the maid supposed to come, anyway?” Erin asked, her eyes already devouring the burning dish.

“Not sure,” Emily answered. “A few hours, I think.”

“I thought she came on Saturdays?” Jo asked.

“No, it's definitely tomorrow,” Emily answered with a smile. “I remember because it's Geof’s day to jerk off. He has a bit of a thing for Ms. Anna.”

“Really?” Jo asked, clearly surprised.

“Yep. When he was thirteen he once tried to get a picture of her, all sneaky like. See, she was wearing a skirt, and well, you can fill in the rest. I’m pretty sure he still has it on his phone.”

“Gross.” Jo lowered her eyes, thinking over that last bit of news. That was probably more than she needed to know. Then she saw something moving.

“Jo, yes!” Geof shouted, his eyes meeting with his girlfriends, his hopes lifting. They were dashed when her face turned to one of disgust.

“Great, a bug,” she silently whispered, her hand reaching forward, her forefinger pressed against her thumb. Suddenly fear gripped every inch of Geof’s body as he realized what was happening. He was so small she thought he was a bug. Perhaps that was true.

“Jo, please-” he said lightly, his words cut off as his giant girlfriend’s finger crashed into his already destroyed midsection, sending him flying.

He felt his back land on something giving, felt his body sinking slightly into the mystery substance, the thick aroma of the meal multiplying in intensity. Then he felt the heat as fluids spilled out and onto his exposed body.

“Ahh!” he screamed, jumping up and away from the burning liquid, his broken ribs screaming in response to the sudden movement. He managed to slip his feet beneath him for just long enough to walk out from the crater his fall created, the uneven surface soon causing him to fall back down.

Where was he? That was a question he needed answers to if he expected to survive. There were many places on the table that could prove deadly. On one of the girl’s plates, perhaps in the bowl of a spoon, a coaster… the deadly possibilities were endless.

He pushed himself off of the odd surface, attempting to understand what had happened. It was white, tinted yellow. Mushy, folding under pressure. Smelled delicious, was hot to the touch.

“No,” Geof whispered as realization dawned on him. He looked up, seeing white, porcelain walls, the girl’s faces high above and beyond. He had fallen into the dish of lasagna. Hurriedly he pushed off, rushing to the edges of the dish, hoping that he wasn’t about to become the main course.

“Think it's ready?” Emily said, unaware of the tiny speck desperately running across the food she so greedily lusted over.

Eren shrugged. “Probably. I don’t care anymore. I’m hungry!” She grabbed a knife, holding it menacingly over the food.

“Wait, Eren!” Geof shouted yet again, and to the same effect. His pleas were ignored, totally and completely, Eren plunging her knife into the dish soon after. Instantly steam erupted from its insides, the smell increasing ten fold.

Geof could only watch in horror as his giant sister cut a section away, lifting it up, then dropping it onto her plate. Then it was Emily’s turn. With vigor, she grabbed the knife and stabbed at the pasta, quickly cutting away a section for herself. It was Geof’s misfortune that it happened to be the piece he was trapped on. He could only scream as his body was rocketed into the air, soon to be dropped along with the rest of her food onto her plate.

“Emily, I’m down here!” he screamed, watching as his massive, god-like sister grabbed a fork and knife, licking her lips in anticipation of the meal.

Geof couldn’t fathom how any of this was possible, how he managed to be trapped on the plate of his giant sister’s food, helpless and weak, about to be devoured, and with no way out. Her fork plunged into the piece, her knife soon following.

There was nothing Geof could do to reach his sister. She was too consumed by the delicious taste of her food, the pleasant taste that danced across his tongue with every bite. She wasn’t looking for a tiny bug on her plate, and she would never notice her tiny brother.

Dinner continued as it normally did. The girls talked, the conversation turning from one thing to the next, the topic of their missing Geof never surfacing. Time and again Emily’s fork lowered onto the plate, and each time it left the food in a messier condition than when it came. Soon Geof found himself almost swimming through a sea of pasta, meat, cheese and sauce. All his efforts went to escape as he was forced to watch his giant sister almost scoop him up time after time, the sight of her teeth coming down, squishing her food, enough to make him gag.

He knew that he couldn’t survive forever. With each bite the amount of dinner decreased, his chances of being accidentally scooped up rising drastically. Every time the fork came down he pictured his tiny body caught, his sister then shoving the fork full into her mouth without a care. Would she feel his body when she bit down? Would she know something was strange? Would he be swallowed alive, doomed to a slow death inside her stomach?

It seemed his questions were about to be answered. Emily lowered the fork to the plate, its prongs digging into a section barely any distance from her tiny brother. She lifted up, Geof’s body still trapped in the mass of sauce and pasta.

Desperately he screamed, “Emily, don’t eat me!” but she didn’t hear. She was simply too powerful, too much of a god to hear the tiny screams from the mortal she was about to devour. Her lips came into view, plump and red. Then her mouth opened, a great cavity of horror that Geof knew he would never escape.

He almost gagged at the sight. Spit covered the entire interior, some strands even bridging the gap from the roof to her tongue. Her massive, perfectly white teeth were the next thing Geof noticed. Each one was large enough to crush him, his body turned into mush. Then their was the tongue, an appendage more powerful than his entire body.

The shadow fell over him as Emily passed the fork into her mouth, her lips coming down on the end. “Please, Emily!” Geof begged, on the verge of tears as she started pulling, the pile of food slopping off of the silverware, tumbling on her tongue. He felt her jaw widen, her tongue pushing around the food just a bit, moving it into position.

Her first bite was torturous. Though it didn’t come down on little Geof’s body, the sound was enough to make his stomach churn. It was deafening, tiny chunks of meat popping, sauce and cheese oozing out and away as he power jaw mashed the lasagna apart.

Again her jaw opened, again her tongue moved the blob of food around. In the pitch-blackness of her mouth, Geof could only pray that he hadn’t been moved onto her tooth. A single bite and his body would be squished. No chance of being saved, no carpet to lessen the pressure. He’d be killed, and by his own sister.

But would it be worse if she didn’t chew? What would happen if she swallowed him alive? He’d be dissolved in her stomach acids, his skin slowly falling off, his body disintegrating in possibly the most painful way imaginable. How could his sister be doing this to him? Why couldn’t he do anything to stop it? Her teeth came down again.

Unaware of her little brother’s plight, Emily continued chewing, her teeth rising and falling rhythmically, her food quickly turning into a loose glob. Only a few more bites then she could swallow. If only she knew what she was swallowing.

Jo stood, her empty plate in hand, moving around the table. “Delicious meal,” she said with a smile. “You really know how to cook.”

“Thanks,” Emily answered, her mouth still full.

“You really need to give me your recipe one day.”

“I will,” she answered again, tiny bits of food flying out. She quickly grabbed a napkin, wiping up the spillage, then holding it to her mouth. “Woops, sorry,” she said, a big swallow following.

“No problem. Email it to me later, alright?”

“Sure.”