"You do look pretty cute though," she giggles, and begins moving her wrist to 'swoop' you through the air like a toy aeroplane. She follows this up with a graceful twirl as she begins to dance back and forth across the space of the kitchen. For a moment it's like dancing with a goddess, until you realise that to her you're just an inanimate object that she just happens to be hoilding while she passes time.
"What are you doing, mama?"
The woman comes to a stop, bringing both hands together in front of her chest, clasping you between them. While you are held motionless by her truck-sized fingers, you can at least see the newcomer: a girl, whose youthul features bear a striking resemblance to the giantess. Obviously, her daughter.
"Oh, I am merely passing time while the cake cooks, dear."
"Dancing with a little doll?"
"This? Do you know nothing, girl? Oh, what a child I have raised, to not know what this is! Have I been so lax as to not explain it to you before?"
The girl crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. "I'm sure I'm going to learn all about it pretty soon."
"Yes!" the woman retorts, stepping forward. She brings you upward, using you to gesture with each word she speaks. "You are going to learn right now!"
Every snap back or forth of the wrist rocks your head on your neck, and you're very close to being sick, only prevented by your empty stomach. As the world settles, you find yourself staring up at the unimpressed face of the young woman .
"And?"
"This is the king, an essential part of the Rosca de Reyes! Once the cake is baked, I will insert him into it!"
"Does he taste good?" the younger lady snaps, her teeth smashing together scarily close to you, a terrifying reminder of how easy it would be for any of these giants to devour you, chopping you apart in their mouth or even swallowing you whole.
"No!" the mother gasps, dragging you back to her before hefting you aloft in glory. "One does not eat the king!" Well, that's one plus. "No! Whoever finds him in their slice of cake is the one to cook the Rosca de Reyes for next year!"
"Oh! That's cool! Maybe it'll be me, huh, mama?"
"Maybe, baby! Now, hold him for me while I tend to the oven."
One giant hand is thrust toward another, and while the daughter's fingers are smaller than he mother's, they are still powerful enough to leave you with a feeling of potential annihilation at every moment. She looks down at you absently, seeing you as a toy just as much as her mother.
"He reminds me of your father, don't you think?"
Now she looks at you closer, trying to find what her mother sees in you.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author