Clean-Up Crew
A Shrunken College Student
chapter 9
by
copier
· original author:
unknown
“Check the restaurant…” Chelsea sighed dejectedly. “Yeah…sure. Maybe we can find him.” She reasoned, garnering a confident smile on the big-hearted waitress’ face.
“Tha’s the spirit, hun!” Sadie clapped her hands together. “With two of us searching, we’re sure to find yer tiny little cutie pie boyfriend!” The busty blonde excitedly pulled the depressed brunette giantess up to her feet, and soon both of the blissfully unaware girls scattered to separate corners of the restaurant to scan for any sight of you.
Of course, neither of their realized how close you had been the whole time. As soon as Chelsea had stood up, your battered, flattened body remained crushed flat to the bench, and you could do nothing but stare up mutely as your guardian and oblivious tormentor wandered out of sight, leaving you all alone. It took you a few minutes to reform, and by then it was far too late.
Reinflated back to your normal size, your shoulders slumped upon seeing Chelsea and Sadie on the total opposite side of the restaurant. You had no feasible way to reach either of your two potential towering saviors. Climbing back to the floor was a horrible idea (and a terrifying situation you didn’t want to reexperience), and you couldn’t reach the table either from this point. It seemed like you could only wait for Chelsea to return, and hope she looked at you before sitting again.
However, once more, fate threw a cruel curveball right at you, catching you horribly off guard. You hadn’t realized it (being plastered beneath Chelsea’s shapely rear end), but your giantess friend had finished her meal while you had been pounded to a pulp during the square-dancing debacle, and thusly left a good deal of trash to be cleaned up while she continued her futile search to locate you.
As such, one of the waitresses had casually strolled her way over to the table, carrying a huge black trash bag with the intent of cleaning up Chelsea’s leftovers. You froze as the massive girl drew near, taking note of how her gaze was firmly on the table, and not your one-inch tall form on the bench. As she began picking up napkins and bits of food with her gloved hands, and tossing them into the trash bag, you decided that maybe getting this girl’s attention would be a good idea.
Of course, your decision came a second too late, as the waitress’ face scrunched up, and she let out a cute sneeze, dropping a syrup coated napkin from her hand. Time seemed to slow as the napkin tumbled through the air towards you, and your body simply refused to react. The napkin crashed down onto you, burying your face into a clump of gooey syrup and hiding you beneath it.
Only a second later, the waitress picked the napkin back up, and your tiny form with it. You flailed and kicked like a madman, but the waitress was none the wiser to your struggles. She merely discarded the napkin into the dark depths of the trash bag, sending you and the napkin plummeting into a heap of trash and gross food bits, shrouded in darkness.
As soon as the napkin landed in the bag, you clawed and gripped at your squishy face, peeling it away from the syrup and freeing your mouth to scream up to the waitress high above you in one last ditch effort to save yourself from this cruel and unexpected twist in fate. At least, that was the plan, before the waitress scrapped the remains of Chelsea’s food off her plate and into the trash bag, dousing you in more syrup and congealing your body under several drippy chunks of scrambled eggs.
Your screams died out as egg and sausage remains flooded into your mouth, bringing fits of choking and gagging. Far above, the waitress simply smiled innocently as she dumped in a bit more trash, and then tied the bag shut tightly, casting you into pitch blackness. Strolling back to the kitchen, she had not a single clue in the world that a living being was trapped within the confines of the trash bag, furiously fighting to save himself from his fate.
The waitress brushed past Chelsea, who was crawling on the floor looking under tables for any sign of you and earning her fair share of confused looks. The oblivious waitress entered the kitchen, and left straight out the door at the back of the restaurant. To her surprise, the trash truck had just pulled up to the restaurant, and the girl collecting the trash hopped down from the driver’s seat.
“Huh. Just in time!” The waitress joked, handing the bag off to the garbagewoman. Turning on her heel, she strode merrily back into the restaurant, while the garbagewoman hefted the bag over her shoulder and walked around the back of her truck, raising the back hatch. A powerful and overwhelmingly disgusting stench wafted through the air, but the garbagewoman was more than used to the unpleasant scent.
Without a care in the world, she dumped the bag holding the remains of Chelsea’s meal and your trapped self into the truck, and reached up the slam the hatch closed, sealing you truly into your fate. However, while all of this had been transpiring, you had managed to grab onto Chelsea’s fork and pry yourself away from the globs of food stuck to you.
Using that same fork, you had begun to wedge the fork into the plastic bag and rub it up and down with all of your strength, slowly fraying a small hole in the side of the bag. Knowing your time was running out, you desperately scratched and clawed at the hole, trying to thrust yourself out at the last second, and escape to freedom.
What happens next?
“Tha’s the spirit, hun!” Sadie clapped her hands together. “With two of us searching, we’re sure to find yer tiny little cutie pie boyfriend!” The busty blonde excitedly pulled the depressed brunette giantess up to her feet, and soon both of the blissfully unaware girls scattered to separate corners of the restaurant to scan for any sight of you.
Of course, neither of their realized how close you had been the whole time. As soon as Chelsea had stood up, your battered, flattened body remained crushed flat to the bench, and you could do nothing but stare up mutely as your guardian and oblivious tormentor wandered out of sight, leaving you all alone. It took you a few minutes to reform, and by then it was far too late.
Reinflated back to your normal size, your shoulders slumped upon seeing Chelsea and Sadie on the total opposite side of the restaurant. You had no feasible way to reach either of your two potential towering saviors. Climbing back to the floor was a horrible idea (and a terrifying situation you didn’t want to reexperience), and you couldn’t reach the table either from this point. It seemed like you could only wait for Chelsea to return, and hope she looked at you before sitting again.
However, once more, fate threw a cruel curveball right at you, catching you horribly off guard. You hadn’t realized it (being plastered beneath Chelsea’s shapely rear end), but your giantess friend had finished her meal while you had been pounded to a pulp during the square-dancing debacle, and thusly left a good deal of trash to be cleaned up while she continued her futile search to locate you.
As such, one of the waitresses had casually strolled her way over to the table, carrying a huge black trash bag with the intent of cleaning up Chelsea’s leftovers. You froze as the massive girl drew near, taking note of how her gaze was firmly on the table, and not your one-inch tall form on the bench. As she began picking up napkins and bits of food with her gloved hands, and tossing them into the trash bag, you decided that maybe getting this girl’s attention would be a good idea.
Of course, your decision came a second too late, as the waitress’ face scrunched up, and she let out a cute sneeze, dropping a syrup coated napkin from her hand. Time seemed to slow as the napkin tumbled through the air towards you, and your body simply refused to react. The napkin crashed down onto you, burying your face into a clump of gooey syrup and hiding you beneath it.
Only a second later, the waitress picked the napkin back up, and your tiny form with it. You flailed and kicked like a madman, but the waitress was none the wiser to your struggles. She merely discarded the napkin into the dark depths of the trash bag, sending you and the napkin plummeting into a heap of trash and gross food bits, shrouded in darkness.
As soon as the napkin landed in the bag, you clawed and gripped at your squishy face, peeling it away from the syrup and freeing your mouth to scream up to the waitress high above you in one last ditch effort to save yourself from this cruel and unexpected twist in fate. At least, that was the plan, before the waitress scrapped the remains of Chelsea’s food off her plate and into the trash bag, dousing you in more syrup and congealing your body under several drippy chunks of scrambled eggs.
Your screams died out as egg and sausage remains flooded into your mouth, bringing fits of choking and gagging. Far above, the waitress simply smiled innocently as she dumped in a bit more trash, and then tied the bag shut tightly, casting you into pitch blackness. Strolling back to the kitchen, she had not a single clue in the world that a living being was trapped within the confines of the trash bag, furiously fighting to save himself from his fate.
The waitress brushed past Chelsea, who was crawling on the floor looking under tables for any sign of you and earning her fair share of confused looks. The oblivious waitress entered the kitchen, and left straight out the door at the back of the restaurant. To her surprise, the trash truck had just pulled up to the restaurant, and the girl collecting the trash hopped down from the driver’s seat.
“Huh. Just in time!” The waitress joked, handing the bag off to the garbagewoman. Turning on her heel, she strode merrily back into the restaurant, while the garbagewoman hefted the bag over her shoulder and walked around the back of her truck, raising the back hatch. A powerful and overwhelmingly disgusting stench wafted through the air, but the garbagewoman was more than used to the unpleasant scent.
Without a care in the world, she dumped the bag holding the remains of Chelsea’s meal and your trapped self into the truck, and reached up the slam the hatch closed, sealing you truly into your fate. However, while all of this had been transpiring, you had managed to grab onto Chelsea’s fork and pry yourself away from the globs of food stuck to you.
Using that same fork, you had begun to wedge the fork into the plastic bag and rub it up and down with all of your strength, slowly fraying a small hole in the side of the bag. Knowing your time was running out, you desperately scratched and clawed at the hole, trying to thrust yourself out at the last second, and escape to freedom.
What happens next?
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March 28, 2025
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