You eagerly climb off of Tom's sandal, tripping over the deep indents that his giant toes have left over time, and onto the next raised surface you come across.. This surface happens to be that of a white, foam flip-flop. There are traces of indents in this one aswell, though the footwear seems much better taken care of.
Also, instead of the deep, manly musk that stunk Tom's sandal up so badly, this flip-flop has a watery, sweaty smell with undertones of salt. After the awful smells you've already encountered by Welling's monstrous feet, you're so thankful for this safe haven that you could just about fall on your knees and worship the towering toe divider in appreciation.
But perhaps you've spoken too soon..
"Yeah dude, we're outta beer, I'll be back in a little bit." You stare up in awe at the towering giant who calls over his shoulder as his bare, tan sole slides into the flip-flop you're occupying and his big toe thumps right down on top of you..
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