Traci giggled to herself, preparing her simple weekly breakfast in the garden. This morning she had only buttered toast and jam, as a result of a large supper the night before. But she could hardly wait, afterall, yesterday she received her package, and would be able to fully enjoy the newest thing in spices. Setting the toast, jam, tea, sugar cubes and spoon on the cement bench beside her, she grabbed the tiny package opposite of her. Quickly ripping it open, there was simply a pepper shaker, filled to the brim. From a distance it might only seem like pepper, but upon closer inspection, you could see the millions of men, women and children crammed inside, expressions on fear and pain on their faces. They screamed as light flooded their world for the first time, but the soundproof glass prevented Traci from hearing their plight.
Bringing them up to her face, the group facing her was greeted by a massive face, no older than thirteen or fourteen, grinning wide. And as quickly as they were ripped out of the packaging, they were flipped upside down, and shaken, harshly, as the teenager attempted to dump some out into her palm. But nothing came out. Confused, Traci raised the glass to her eye and peaked in. The bright blue eyes could have been an ocean to the people in the glass. They could see for hundreds of yards into her pupil, but more screaming ensued as she shook the glass bottle a bit more, wondering why nothing was coming out.
Wait! The safety seal! Traci felt dumb. Her breakfast was getting cold, even if it was only toast and tea, she hated cold breakfast, and hurriedly unscrewed the cap, revealing the white plastic lead, sealing her tasty little victims inside. Again, in a hurry, she ripped off the plastic seal, but clumsily almost dropped the entire bottle. She watched as thousands of tiny people fell onto her nightgown, cursing herself for wasting such an expensivce product. Annoyed, now, she stood, dusting off her nightdress, making sure that not a single speck remained.
Those unlucky enough to fall into the fabric of the dress found themselves in quite the predicament, as their recently preteen-turned-teenaged capturess dusting them off of her dress like bugs, or even worse, dirt. And like dirt they fell, the millions of miles or so from dress, down the length of her knees and legs, to the grass. A few managed to land unharmed in a forest of blue trees and grass. Lost, they found no reason to hide or brace for empact when a shadow, like an eclipse of the sun, descended upon the unlucky patrons of Traci's blue flully slipper. There was no heel, so Traci simply let her foot hover above the cave like entrace to her house-shoe, before letting her toes, painted a light shade of purple, guide the rest of her dainty food inside. A few of the tiny adventurers had wound up hanging or dangling from the roof at the entrance to the footwear, but toes of the goddess wiggled as they passed below them, knocking a few of the passengers off balance, and sending them plummeting.
Most expected death, but were only treated to a rude awakening when they landed squarely on Traci's big toe, and doomed to live the rest of their days on the toenail of this preteen goddess, until they died, or until she was due for a pedicure. Those underneath the once delicate foot, either entered a world of darkness, trapped underneath the warm, bare sole of this stranger-girl's foot, or once the foot had settled into place, became one with it. Too small to be crushed, they found existance in the oceanic footprint of the unwitting schoolgirl.
Giving her toes one last wiggle, trapping a last few innocents between the canyons of flesh, Traci screwed the cap back on her shaker, and turned her attention back to her breakfast. Hell broke loose one last time, as they entire capsule inverted again, only this time, there was no plastic seal to prevent anyone from falling. Hundreds upon hundreds of innocent people fell from thousands of feet into the air, to land on a vast, hot, springy plain, covered in strawberry jam. Seeds as large as houses dominated the land, and there was no such thing as movement. The jam was simply to sticky, and there was way to much of it. Once she felt her toast was sufficiently covered in the tiny tasties, she grabbed hold of sqaure, crisp bread, even waved goodbye with her pinky finger, bringing the entire continent that the pathetic humans lived on to her lips.
These same lips were licked several times by the massive, undulating monster on a tongue, residing within the young girls mouth. Opening it only enough to allow her prisoners a tour, she thrust the toast into her mouth, giving the occupants of said toast a roller coaster ride to hell. The luckiest of those were fortunate to be smeared against her lips and teeth as she bit down, and stuck there, the jam acting like glue. But they had no time for celebration, the tongue that had once warned them of their destiny, returned once again to carry out it's warning, thrusting the lot of them, 200 or so, into the hellish maw of the 14 year old. She began to chew, the sticky saliva, jam, and toast combination searing, cutting, and dissolving away at the unfortunate victims of a hungry girls wrath. The teeth, just barely able to destroy such tiny vessels, did so, and most of the people found a quick, yet excrutiating death. The pink, monstrous tongue was brutal, and thrashing and flailing about as if it were the the white whale, caught on the line by Posedon.Those who were able to survive the massive genocide of their people fell victim to the swallowing process, and were never heard from again,after the intial gulp that decimated their eardrums.
Quickly pulling what didn't fit into her mouth away, Traci stiffled a giggle, trying to imagine what it was like for the poor people she was having for breakfast. With a sigh, however, she put those thoughts away, and spied her tea, sitting there, getting colder. Then, with an idea, she set her toast down, and picked up the bottle again, wondering if her tiny disgestible pals could help make her tea even better...
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