You're drunk. That's the first thing that crosses your mind when you come to. No, you're hallucinating. Despite the fact that you feel completely sober, you must be. You must be. The bar, the bed, the nightstand, everything... everything was huge. Absolutely, terrifyingly, huge. You were sitting on the carpeted floor, no bigger than an inch and a half tall, if you were being generous. You must be hallucinating.
You close your eyes and shake your head, hoping to snap out of whatever dream state you were in. It doesn't help. Just as you're about to start panicking, an intercom turns on, and a recorded voice speaks.
"(your name here), you are not dreaming. This is not a trick. Please remain calm. You have been selected for a highly classified experiment. The bottle you drank from is called 'Micro-Brew,' and it has reduced the size of your body. Please do not panic, the effects will wear off at the end of the week. We are conducting an experiment to see how the heroines will react to your condition. You will be compensated for any discomfort you may experience. Thank-you for your cooperation, and have a 'super' week.
WHAT. THE. FUCK.
You didn't care what the voice on the intercom said, you were panicking. A fucking experiment!? The government had lied to you! Taken advantage of you! You couldn't believe any of this. The only positive side was that the heroines weren't a lie. The heroines. Of course. Maybe somebody could help you!
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