This choice: ...stay here, you don't want anything to do with these man-eating monsters. • Go Back...Chapter #4The Giantess Beauty Who Once was by: Neo-rodent   You listen, straining to hear what's going on outside through a foot of insulation designed against the vacuum of space. The fact that you can hear anything is a testament to their might. Anticipating speech, you busily plug in your phonics detector. 'Best to make use of my situation for reconnaissance. If these aliens are eating humans then they're pretty much at war with the Confederation of Planets... yeah I'm almost sure there's an interplanetary law against that..'
Outside the crying continues on as constant as a continental river for over an hour until it is damned unexpectedly by a much louder giantess. "Will you just shut the fuck up kid. We all gat our problems, specially in this neighborhood." She ended her sentence with a meteoric spit. "Why just look what I'm reduced to, livin' on the streets, eating out throwd-way cans to survive.'
"Wait a second," you have time to think aloud,"I'm in a 'throwd-way' can." Then you and your can are tossed about as giantess foot steps pulverize the asphalt outside. "I used to be the queen of Velvelt Row, before it went all skeezy, I could get any man I wanted, now I can't even get a break." The can tips up throwing you back in your seat as sure as a take off would have.
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Clarice's cigarette dangles, then falls from her painted lips. Maureen looks up from 'Bloodbath Alley', the novel which always made her eyes rain tears. The pale face that emerged over the book's 'bloodstained' cover looked streaked by their periodic floods. She noticed, the woman's peculiar silence and her gaping stare. "What do you see in there," she sniffled, "Ms. Clarice?"
When she replied her voice was charged with a zest, Maureen never heard from any of the street-walkers. "Honey child, what I see is my ticket out of this hell hole!" Long arcing nails of crimson disappeared into the tin can and came up with a strangely shiny object poised between them.
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A disgustingly haggard female face assaults your view, bearing every black-head and sag with undisguised enormity. She looks like she could of at one time been a beauty and the thickness of her make up might convince some of her fellow giants that she still was. Cosmetics, however, proves a quite ineffective illusion on someone your size.
"Oh god," you exclaim, shielding your eyes, "its like painted pig." You realize then that the nose of your plane is pointing right at the ugly broad. You could hit her point blank in the face with a barrage of mini-nukes. Surely nothing could survive that, regardless of its size...   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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