In the nation's capital, three women gather on this memorable date and relax in the Oval Office. Behind the desk in the leather throne studded with gold is who you would expect, President Charlotte Poundstone. Her red curls bounce as she laughs at a statement made from across the table by her buttoned-up, blonde co-executive, Vice-President Lucy Loveland.
Some politically aware citizens may remember that Lucy was not Charlotte's first vice-president, but once he was reduced to three inches tall, Mr. Treadwater found himself unable to live up to his name in the office. He was ushered out the doggy-door, and his replacement was unanimously approved before he could walk to the front gate and through the bars.
Lucy is a perfect professional promoted to this post from her previous position as Governor of South Dakota. She began her term there respectfully as Lieutenant Governor, but the governorship was suddenly open to her when another under-qualified man decided to graciously exit government. Immensely popular in her home state as a born and bred cattle rancher, Lucy was small in stature at five foot and two inches, but she could prove herself equally tall in the field and in the office all the same. Charlotte likes to tease her about the men's faces carved on Mount Rushmore back home.
Sitting beside Lucy, the third woman, second redhead, in the chamber is the one arguably most responsible for this celebration. Rebekah Montana, the inventor of the size-changing, matter transposing technology that made the man-shrinking process possible, jostles her crossed legs and admires her lovely company. Rebekah is no longer doing work at the little college lab of the year before. Once Charlotte signed off on the shrinking proclamation, Rebekah's small time project became a big time operation with her now acting as Chief of the Size Control Research and Technology Division of the U.S. Government. Same thing. Larger office.
The trio enjoy the moment, celebrating the anniversary of the day that changed society forever. They reflect on the initial turbulence resisting the law and how hard it was to keep the major snafus out of the media. No one really knew how many conflicts were literally crushed by loyal military boots across American soil. Everyone officially agrees those records were unimportant and should remain undocumented for the good of the mission.
They revel in the success of creating a budding female utopia, blooming fabulously when the weeds of men were plucked and finally let the women grow free from their choking influence. Some feel that problem is still not completely solved, Poundstone herself for example, but progress was made and will continue to be made. And beyond the borders, they've shown the world that it can do without little pests bearing little penises.
"If you will join me on this special occasion, I have something to share." Charlotte leans and opens a heavy drawer, fetching a small ornately decorated black box. She slips loose the gold ribbon and hums, "You'll have to excuse me of course. They're a bit on the lean side, but of the highest quality. I should have known better and had my secretary put in a reserve for premium stock last month. Supplies were short this week with the anniversary coming."
Montana leans in, "Oh, now I feel stupid. You didn't have to go through the trouble Charlotte." She shakes her head, "I should have brought some from the lab. We always have more than we need! Next time is my treat."
Lucy snorts, "I'll never understand where they all come from. You'd think we'd have crushed them into extinction after these twelve months, but they still seem to crawl out of every hole like cockroaches."
"Rebekah, what do you think about that? Could we have driven them to extinction by now?" Charlotte wonders.
"There were over one hundred million of them a year ago," Rebekah explains. "While we're not tracking each and every one of them to keep a regular headcount, it seems statistically unlikely their numbers would decline by more than ten million a month on the average. They'll be around for a long time to come."
Lucy remarks, "We'll have to do better. Let's get started, Charlotte."
The president shakes her head and smiles, "You're always so damn determined, Lucy. Anyway, ladies first." She laughs and lifts the sturdy lid to reveal three little men cowering on a velvet cushion. They're only an inch tall.
Lucy and Rebekah bump heads and point at one man then another, discussion which looks right for them. Montana agrees with Lucy's recommendation, Lucy takes her choice, and last Charlotte with the final treat. Pinched between their fingers, the miniaturized men dangle helplessly at the mercy of their superiors, fully aware of the shortness of the lives.
"Continue as you wish, ladies. And don't worry about the mess."
Lucy stands aggressively and whips her tiny plaything to the carpet. She wastes no time in raising her petite foot, aiming the sharply pointed heel, and spearing him through the chest with a furious grunt. She shakes the skewered insect free and smashes what's left of him to a purple smear on the blue carpet. She adjusts her skirt and sweeps her fingers atop her tightly pulled back hair before taking her seat without another glance at her bloody creation.
Rebekah is more delicate in her approach to disposal. This is a celebration after all, and she should savor the moment and share the pleasure of this lowly creature's last moments. She stands slowly and drops the little man on the warm seat, placing him in the center of one depressed basin left behind. She lifts the rear of her skirt and begins to squat down, gradually lowering her massive rear over the man's body.
She smiles and closes her eyes the moment before her cheek first touches his raised arms. She feels his tiny hands press into her skin, struggling to resist with all his strength, but his arms buckle under her advance until his entire body squishes against her flesh. She can't help herself from expelling a quiet gasp upon the satisfying and familiar pop beneath her buttocks that leaves her skin splattered with hot, male juices.
Poundstone shivers watching Rebekah do her work. It's a moment before she can bring herself to look at her own special prize. She addresses the tiny morsel with the terrifying opinion, "There's something about the blonde ones that I find extra sweet."
"I told you she'd want that one," Lucy nods her head towards Rebekah.
Charlotte laughs, licking her lips while the last of the celebratory sacrifices twists in her grasp. Her eyes bulge before she speaks, "Down the hatch."
Her red lips form a ring of fire around a dark pit where a hungry tongue waits for a taste of fresh meat. She savors the tension a moment longer before spontaneously letting him fall into her mouth. He drops inside and slides along her taste buds. Her senses tingle with the flavor of fear as the little snack slips in one smooth motion into her throat and down the express chute to her stomach.
Charlotte takes the tips of her delighted fingers from her neck and sighs, "Don't you love how that feels? Ladies, that is the feeling of real success. The taste of real American Freedom."
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