Some hot food would do wonders to re-focus his mind on the problem at hand, so Bryan pulled on some casual clothes and grabbed his keys and wallet from the bowl at the antique stand near the front door.
His highly organized brain kept chasing possible theories to explain the baffling failure of his shrinking formula, but he could not let everything slide because of a minor setback.
Bryan drove the short distance to a local diner less than five minutes from his home. As a consequence of living alone, he often took his meals at the diner rather than trying to cook for one at home. The diner's fare was average, and attracted most of its patrons by virtue of its convenience.
The diner wasn't too crowded when he entered. Most of the day's breakfast rush had already thinned out. He chose a booth at the rear of the diner and smiled when his favorite waiter approached.
"Morning, Mr. Smith," Corby said, handing the college professor one of the tattered menus.
Bryan smiled as he took the menu, but he kept his eyes on Corby, who was a handsome 20-year-old working his way through college with his job waiting tables at the diner.
"How are classes?" Bryan asked, admiring the tall, handsome youth. Corby stood several inches taller than Bryan, and had a nice body outlined nicely beneath his T-shirt decorated with the diner's logo.
"Not bad, but between working here and trying to finish my end-of-term projects, I've really been stretched thin," Corby said.
"Let me know if there's anything I can do to help," Bryan volunteered almost too eagerly.
"Thanks, that's good of you, but I'm not taking any science classes this semester," Corby said politely. He didn't mind that the professor was often less than subtle with his infatuation. It ensured generous tips.
"So, what will it be?" The college student asked the older man.
"Diet soda, a club sandwich and fries," Bryan said, pausing to consider the last aspect of the order.
"Hold the mayo?" Corby volunteered, knowing that the professor had been focused on trimming some less healthy items from his diet.
Bryan felt his stomach grumble. "You know, I think I will just risk it today," he said. "I'm starving."
Corby grinned. "No problem, professor."
He took back the menu and went to turn in Bryan's order at the very moment Tommy and his best friend entered the restaurant.
Tommy saw the professor and made a beeline toward the booth.
"Hey, professor!" The teenager said as his friend, Joe, followed behind him, obviously less enthusiastic.
"Hey, Tommy," Bryan said.
"I'll just grab a table, over there," Joe said, not hiding his complete indifference to the older man.
Once they were left alone, Tommy asked, "So, what happened with your vacation...and that package you wanted mailed?"
Bryan couldn't just blurt out that he had meant to mail himself halfway across the country to his nephew's dorms.
"Just a few unexpected problems," he answered. "But, I'm working on them."
Tommy brightened immediately. "Well, you just let me know. I'm still available to help."
"I appreciate that," Bryan said. "You'll hopefully hear from me soon."
As he talked to the teenager, the professor began to feel a strange sensation that spread out from his complaining stomach and caused his entire body to tingle.
"I'll catch you later," Tommy said and turned to join Joe at a table on the other side of the restaurant.
Bryan, at the moment, was startled by the sudden queasy feeling. It was all too familiar.
Suddenly, he felt himself falling. He screamed out Tommy's name, but his voice seemed swallowed by a sudden darkness as he collapsed into his own clothes.
His position in the corner of the booth concealed his disappearance from the smattering of customers elsewhere in the diner. Suddenly freed of his body, the clothes slid to the floor, hidden by the laminate tabletop.
Finding himself suddenly tiny and naked, the shocked scientist stumbled out of his own pants and onto the dingy green and white pattern of the diner's linoleum floor. From his lowly position, he gazed up at the underside of the table and saw giant wads of ancient gum left behind by rude patrons.
"Oh no!" Bryan squeaked as he realized that the shrinking formula had finally taken effect after its inexplicable 24-hour delay.
The seriousness of his situation made itself plainly obvious. He was a mere eight-of-an-inch tall on the floor of the huge diner, several miles from his home and the antidote.
Suddenly, two massive sneakers thudded down on the linoleum and he heard Corby's massive voice.
"HERE YOU GO, MR. SMITH."
The tiny man heard the clatter on the other side of the table as Corby placed his order on the laminate surface.
The tiny man knew he was safe from the huge footwear as long as he remained beneath the table.
"But I can't just stay here forever," he said, trying to think of a move.
"MR. SMITH?" Corby asked, looking around for any sign of the man.
Finally, he shrugged and decided that he must have gone to the restroom. Besides, he had other customers. He left the sandwich and soda on the table, making a mental note to return later and see if Mr. Smith needed anything else.
As the giant footwear thudded away, Bryan broke out of his paralysis.
"No, wait! Don't leave!"
His feeble words went unheeded, hardly surprising given his extremely diminutive size.
He had two options:
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