Brandon Twice
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Grand Theft Antoine
🕑 Added 2021-09-22 03:37:56 +0000 UTC[shrinking, Antoine Vaillant]
Antoine kept his hand on the door the entire time the pudgy cop stood on his porch. The little guy kept craning his neck to look past Antoine’s broad body into the house, but Antoine kept inching forward as the cop jabbered on.
“So, basically, I’m just doing a house-to-house sweep in this neighborhood to make sure everyone’s alarm systems are functioning, that people are locking their doors and windows, and that nobody’s house is unattended… owners away on vacation, that sort of thing.” The little guy stood on his tiptoes to peer over Antoine’s shoulders, tan and bulging out of his orange tank top.
“Yup, alarm system, everything’s locked, and as you can see… I’m home,” Antoine said politely. He had just munched on an indica edible and was looking forward to a relaxing evening on the couch. He felt a gentle tingling just behind his eyes and was hoping this chubby cop would be gone before it kicked in fully.
“I gotta say,” said the cop, stepping back and looking at the exterior of Antoine’s home, “you’ve got, far and away, the nicest house on this block. How’s a guy like you afford a place like this?”
Antoine feigned a smile. He knew that his size was incredibly intimidating, even to a porker who only came up to his nipple, so body language was important. Antoine had come off unintentionally aggressive far too many times in his life. “Professional athlete,” he said, keeping his answers brief.
The cop looked him up and down. “Hm… Hockey?” he surmised, one eyebrow raised.
Antoine chuckled. “Yep, that’s it. You should see me in front of the goal, nobody can get a puck by all this!” he said, gesturing at his bulky physique. “Listen, Officer Mercier…”
The cop turned to him, his brow furrowed. “Excuse me?” Then he glanced down at his nametag. “Oh, sorry. I was curious how you knew my name. I didn’t think I’d said it to you yet.”
Antoine nodded and smiled, “Anyway, look, I’m about to hit the sheets. Thanks for warning me about the burglars, but… let’s be honest, what’s a burglar going to do when he breaks in and sees a guy MY size standing in his way?”
“Not much!” the cop said, adjusting his belt below his ample gut. “You live here alone? Anybody else staying with you tonight?”
“Just me,” Antoine said, using one massive arm to gently brush the cop out of the path of the door.
“Any pets? Dog? Cat?”
“I’m the only big dumb animal living here,” Antoine said. “Thanks! Good night!” He shut the door and twisted the deadbolt. THrough his window he watched the cop readjust his uniform before waddling off the porch.
“Fucking FINALLY,” Antoine said, letting his massive body collapse into his couch. He was feeling a gentle warmth spreading through his skin. “I gotta tell Regan, these gummies are FIRE,” he said to himself in his deep, gruff voice. He fumbled around for the remote and clicked the “voice control” button. “Play any of the Fast and Furious movies,” he said. The remote beeped and his TV flashed on. “Perfect night,” Antoine said, letting out a deep, rumbling sigh.
Suddenly a rattling sound came from his back door. He ignored it at first, but when it persisted, he slowly rose. “You fucking kidding me?” He glanced back at the porch. “Shit, maybe I sent that cop away too fast.” Before venturing toward the sound, he paused at the weight bench in his living room, grabbing a 25 pound EZ-curl bar. He gave it a few swings, then gripped it tightly in both hands as he advanced toward the disturbance.
The rattling sound was coming from the kitchen door. Maybe it was the wind, he told himself--or maybe it was someone on his back porch, trying to jimmy the lock open. “Fair warning to whoever’s trying to get in my house!” he said as he slowly walked through his darkened kitchen. “I’m a 300 pound bodybuilder and I’m dieting for a show, so I’m cranky as FUCK!” In his kitchen, he leered toward the door, peering at his background. He saw no one, and heard nothing but the wind.
“Ha,” he said, relaxing. “That gummy’s got me paranoid. Cop got in my head!” He turned around and headed back to his living room.
He froze when he saw the cop standing there, the window behind his couch wide open.
“You forgot to set your alarm,” the cop said, pointing a gun at Antoine. In a panic, Antoine raised the bar to strike, but the cop fired.
The big bodybuilder expected a bullet, but instead he just saw a blinding white light. He went to cry out, but there was rushing sound on all sides--like a massive waterfall. Suddenly he felt like he was falling, although his feet never left the ground. Finally he collapsed, shocked to find himself entirely naked, but even more shocked to see what looked like a grey tent collapsing above him. He dropped to the ground and covered his head as heavy canvas piled on top of him.
It was dark now, wherever he was, and humid. To be honest, it smelled a lot like a gym locker room--a lot like his own sweaty scent all around him. He slowly uncovered his head and started looking around. Then the ground rumbled like an earthquake’s aftershock. Again came a small tremor, and Antoine panicked again. Nothing made sense… until he heard a booming voice, like it was projected through a stadium’s sound system.
“CAN’T BELIEVE YOU WERE GONNA HIT ME WITH A FUCKING WEIGHTLIFTING BAR,” boomed the godlike voice. More tremors shook Antoine back and forth, then a loud rustling. The canvas all around him started moving, then suddenly lifted away.
Antoine shielded his eyes from the sudden light. Was he outside? There was so much space around him. Something massive loomed over head. Then his eyes focused: it was the cop, only he was the size of a building.
“BEING BIG DIDN’T SEEM TO HELP YOU TOO MUCH THERE, BUDDY,” the cop said, moving unthinkably fast for something so massive. Antoine tried to run but before he could mobilize his massive quads, a huge glass cylinder slammed down around him.
Antoine was still stunned--in seconds he’d become naked and trapped--but he couldn’t help but notice that the pale blue color of his glass prison matched the tumbler he’d been sipping out of on the couch.
He peered beyond the round glass walls and saw that he was still in his apartment, just seeing it from a very low angle--and at a massive scale. Nearby, he saw his grey sweatpants and orange tanktop, emptied of their wearer. The pile they lay in seemed as big as a football field to Antoine.
He could only beat uselessly against the glass walls as the cop, bigger than Godzilla, walked around Antoine’s living room, surveying Antoine’s possessions. There was nothing the bodybuilder could do as the cop unplugged his TV and hoisted it down from the wall, leaning it against the coffee table. The cop then found Antoine’s wallet on the coffee table and picked it up, fishing out the cash and the cards.
Antoine screamed at the top of his lungs and hit the walls of his “cell” with all the force he had, but there was nothing he could do to stop the invading cop from taking his things.
*
Layton, crouched in a dark corner of the mark’s porch, panicked as he counted the seconds since he’d caused the distraction. “Three hundred and… forty-nine?” he thought. Or was it thirty-nine? Still, it was a long time. He’d thought he’d heard the loud pop of the reduction device firing, but shouldn’t Remy have let him in by now?
His heart leapt as he saw a light go on inside the mark’s house. That guy was HUGE! And he had a barbell or some shit in his hands! He finally unclenched when Remy, still in his “police officer” disguise, waved to him through the window. Remy unlocked the door as Layton leapt to his feet and hurried inside.
“I was worried!” Leyton said as Remy peeled off the fake moustache, the prosthetic chin, and the latex cheekbones he’d donned to perform as a fat man.
“You’re always worried,” Remy said as he unhooked the foam gut and slid it out from under his shirt. He peeled off the cop’s salt-and-pepper wig, revealing his bright orange curls underneath. “And there’s never any reason to.”
“Where’s the mark?” Layton said, peering past his accomplice. “He still alive?”
“Yeah, I put him under a glass in the front room. I figured we could chill out here for a bit, make sure nobody noticed us come in, before we really start unloading this place.”
Layton hurried past Remy to the living room, eager to see what had become of the overgrown meathead. As he approached the glass, he was shocked to see it move. It was only half an inch… but a minute later it moved again!
“Holy shit!” Layton said as he approached the upended tumblr, skidding across the floor a few millimeters at a time. “I can’t believe he’s moving the glass! Did you not shrink him enough?”
Remy examined the silver laser gun in his hand, checking the dial and the flashing lights on its side. “I thought I did the math right. I think he was like 6’2” before? Should be four inches now.”
The glass moved a whole inch this time. Inside, the tiny muscular man had both hands against the side of the glass, his whole body flexing with every shove.
Layton stomped a foot down on the glass. “There. Try to move THAT!” he taunted.
“You gonna stand there the whole time?” Remy said. “Grab a book.”
Layton turned around. “You think a guy who bench presses dump trucks actually reads?” A moment later he heard a thud as the tumbler flipped over and rolled away, leaving the mark, still tiny but somehow mildly impressive with his sweat-drenched, heaving muscles, standing there with his fists on his nude hips.
“Well well well,” Remy said crouching down over the little guy. He poked at the tiny man with a finger, and the little shrunken brute tried to run away. Layton stomped the floor to block the little guy’s escape. When he turned around and ran the other way, Layton stomped there too, corralling the little guy back between Remy’s feet. “See, this causes us a little problem,” Remy said, rubbing his hands together. “I planned for you to pass out under that glass. Then by the time you woke up and grew back to normal size--although let’s be honest… there was NOTHING normal about your size, freak--we’d be gone with all your shit.”
“But now you’ve seen us,” Layton said.
“Yeah, you saw me outside my disguise. And we can’t have you going to the cops, can we?” Remy pointed the shrink ray at the little guy, but he didn’t even flinch. “What if I hit you again with the same size parameters? How long would you last before you became some dust mite’s evening snack?”
Layton laughed and slapped his knee. “Maybe we should flush him down the toilet?”
“Nah, too boring,” Remy said. He reached for the little musclehead, who tried to run, but all that muscle made him too clumsy to be fast. Remy snatched him up easily and raised a fist with just a little head poking out the top.
Layton and Remy went into the kitchen as Remy perused the little guy’s things, looking for an entertaining way to dispose of him. He paused at a blender. “This where you make your little morning protein shakes? I bet YOU’D make a protein PACKED shake,” Remy said, pulling off the top and dangling the little guy over it. Despite his tiny size, the little guy clung to Remy’s hand with all his miniscule might.
“Microwave!” Layton said, punching the button to pop the appliance’s door open. Remy, fistful of roidhead, walked over to it, holding up the tiny mark to see its ominously lit insides.
“You think there’d be any DNA evidence left if we popped you in there for a good five minutes or so?”
“Ha! He’d end up splattered all over the place.”
“You know,” the mark said in a voice so small the two burglars had to lean in to hear. “...you guys must be serious pussies if you have to make me tiny just so you can take me.”
“You serious, bro?” Layton said, taking a step back. “Have you fucking LOOKED at yourself lately, you little fucking puke? Put him in the goddamned freezer. We’ll make a little roid-cicle.”
Remy dropped the tiny man in the center of the island range. The little guy scrambled off the heating elements in a panic, but Remy’s plan wasn’t to cook him. He snorted back a wad of phlegm, then spat it--with bullseye accuracy, knocking the little mark right off his beefy legs. Layton laughed hysterically as the massive gob of throat scrum dripped off the choking little bodybuilder. The mark did his best to pull it off his eyes.
“Sorry, buddy,” Remy said, grabbing the still-dripping little man off the range and walking to the sink. “Let’s get you clean, runt,” he said, tossing the little man to the sink. He angled the faucet’s stream so it hit the four inch tall man wherever he ran, finally knocking him off his feet. In seconds he’d been washed toward the drain. The little guy tumbled in, just barely grabbing the edge. Only one absurdly muscular arm kept the tiny man out of the dark depths below.
Remy chuckled as the musclehead’s grip started to weaken. He turned the knobs on the faucet, increasing the force of the stream. “Don’t worry, bud, I won’t let you drown,” he chuckled as he tapped the switch to the left of the sink. The garbage disposal roared to life. Remy expected the mark to fall in just from the shock of the sound, but he maintained his grip. He had to lean in to see, but the muscles on the little man’s one arm were rippling and ludicrously veiny.
Suddenly they heard a loud tone from the living room.
“Must be his phone,” Layton surmised, not wanting to miss the pulping of their tiny mark.
“Go fucking get it!”
Layton returned a moment later. “I can’t open it. Fucking face scan.”
Remy rolled his eyes. He turned off the faucet and grabbed the tiny musclefreak from the grinding doom below him. “Keep your eyes open,” Remy ordered--a tall task, for the water-logged little man. Layton flashed the screen of the phone in front of his face and it unlocked.
“Oh shit,” Layton said as he scanned the texts. “A pizza’s on its way.”
“I didn’t think muscle freaks like you ate pizza,” Remy said to his tiny prisoner. His little captive was still too exhausted to speak.
“Oh shit. Another guy’s coming over too!” Layton turned the phone to reveal a text from someone named Regan:
You home? Swinging by for a sec
“Text him back. Say he went to sleep,” Remy ordered.
“Okay, okay…” Layton said.
“Say, ‘I went to sleep,’ “ Remy specified.
“I did, I did,” Layton said, rolling his eyes. Despite the fact that Remy was a good six inches taller than Layton’s tall, lanky form, it was clear who called the shots in their partnership.
“Okay, let’s collect the pizza, though,” Remy said pensively, seeming to forget the man in his fist. “We don’t need anyone thinking anything was up tonight.” Remy walked around the kitchen, nodding his head as he formulated plans. “Later in the evening--like 3 AM, maybe--we’ll shrink all his stuff down, then shrink his car, and we’ll be out of here.”
“He’s got three cars! I saw them in the garage!” Layton said, eyes lit up.
“How the fuck are you so goddamned rich?” Remy asked the mark, but he didn’t respond.
“But what are we going to do with him?” Layton asked.
“I’ve got some ideas,” Remy said, licking his lips.
*
The dumb one was holding Antoine so tightly that he could only take half-breaths. The massive fingers seemed to get tighter the more Antoine struggled, so he did his best to stay calm. He watched as the redhead headed to the door.
“YOU MAKE A FUCKING PEEP AND I’M GONNA SWALLOW YOU WHOLE, GOT IT?” the dumb one said, giving Antoine a shake.
“HE WON’T SAY ANYTHING,” the redhead said as he headed to the door. “AND EVEN IF HE DID, THEY COULDN’T HEAR HIM..”
Antoine watched as his front door opened. He watched Remy, who had pulled on one of Antoine’s ballcaps and a Covid-19 mask, collected the pizza he’d ordered. He’d planned on eating that pizza, his cheat meal for the week, and passing out on the couch. So much had changed since he’d made those plans.
“I WANT TO WRAP HIM IN PIZZA AND EAT HIM,” the blonde guy said, tossing Antoine roughly on the table. The impact of his fall knocked the wind out of him. He was grateful for the cushion of his big muscles, without which he definitely could have broken a bone. He hated the fact that he was naked though, just adding to the dehumanization of being smaller than a baseball.
“LOOK, WE’RE NOT FUCKING CANNIBALS,” said the redhead. He grabbed a slice of pizza and folded it before taking a sloppy bite. Antoine watched a large blob of sauce and cheese plummet what seemed (to him) hundreds of feet to the white carpet below. “WE ONLY KILL WHEN WE HAVE TO, AND WE DON’T EAT PEOPLE NO MATTER HOW SMALL THEY ARE.”
“WELL THEN, WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?” the dumb one boomed. Antoine hated how loud the giants’ voices were. He didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of covering his ears.
The redhead suddenly smiled. “I’VE GOT AN IDEA.” He crouched down, leaning forward to Antoine. His face seemed as big as a movie screen. “LISTEN UP, TINY MAN,” the redhead said. “WE’RE GOING TO EAT THIS PIZZA FOR THE NEXT 30 MINUTES. WHILE WE DO THAT, YOU CAN FREELY HIDE WHEREVER YOU WANT. THEN, WE COME FIND YOU.”
The dumb one tilted his head to the side. “WAIT, WHAT IF HE GETS OUTSIDE? HE COULD CALL FOR HELP!”
“THERE ARE THREE CATS PROWLING THE NEIGHBORHOOD,” the redhead said, wiping sauce from his mouth. “I THINK ONE’S IN HEAT. I SAW THEM WHEN I WAS CASING THE AREA EARLIER. HE GETS OUTSIDE, I GUARANTEE HE ENDS UP A CAT’S DINNIER.”
Antoine just blinked. The reality of his situation kept hitting him in spurts. He actually could get eaten by a cat now. And he could be hurt by things much smaller than cats, too.
“SO GO, MUNCHKIN,” the redhead ordered. “FUCK, GO! I’M TIRED OF LOOKING AT ALL THOSE SHINY HAIRLESS MUSCLES! YOU LOOK LIKE A GIANT PRAWN! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!” A fat finger flicked at him, hitting Antoine with what felt like the force of a runaway bus. Once again, he was knocked on his feet, his cock slapping against his leg.
“YOU SEE HIS DICK? I THOUGHT BIG MUSCLE GUYS HAD TINY ONES,” the blonde chuckled. “HE’S GOT A WHOPPER.”
“BEES HAVE BIGGER DICKS THAN HIM NOW,” the redhead said, clicking on the TV. “NICE, FAST 8! MY FUCKING FAVORITE!”
Antoine dragged himself to his feet, then looked up at the two giants on his unfathomably enormous couch. He backed away slowly, his body still aching from all the abuse. Despite the dumb one glancing his way every so often, they really seemed more interested in the movie than with the miniaturized man whose house they were robbing.
He ran to the edge of the coffee table and gazed down at the sickening drop before him. Luckily the table leg wasn’t far. He gingerly wrapped his beefy limbs around it and slid down it, groaning as his dick and balls chafed the whole way down. He let go about six feet from the ground, unable to take the chafe on his inner thighs, and collapsed into fluffy soft carpet.
Walking in the carpet was like standing in low tide. He had to lift his feet high just to make any progress. He kept looking behind him, waiting for the two giants to come from behind, but they really were just eating pizza and watching TV.
The front door was his first goal. Despite the warning about the cats, Antoine felt better about just getting away from these two maniacs, and outside there were infinite places to hide. But as Antoine dropped his big bulky body to the floor, his thick back and wide shoulders prevented him from getting under the door crack at all.
“Damn,” he said, jogging the other direction, into his house. If he could reach his computer in his office… The number of steps that lay between him and the computer was overwhelming, so he tried to stay focused on the task at hand.
He was exhausted when he finally got to the office door, but his heart sank as he realized it was closed--but, luckily, not all the way. He squatted down and grabbed the bottom of the door crack and pulled with all his might, relieved when the massive construct loudly groaned and gave way. As it swung open, Antoine collapsed to the floor, covered in sweat again. He had to get up. He had to get to his computer. Regan could help him.
His office was dark, but he could vaguely see from the hallway lights. His heart leapt as he realized he’d left his hoodie on his office chair. It would be work, but he could climb up the dangling sleeve. Thank god I upped my growth hormone intake this week, he thought as he started scaling the massive garment.
He stopped at the seat, tumbling into it just to get some rest. His vision was blurry. His powerful arms and legs were at their limit. As he gazed over the edge, the drop from the seat to the floor made his stomach lurch. Fuck, I really am fucking tiny,he thought as he realized how hard this had been.
He had to leap to grab the dangling computer cord, but he luckily grabbed it and was able to pull himself up the rest of the way. He was shaking as he approached the gigantic keyboard. He gave the mouse a nudge and the screen lit up, blinding him.
Antoine finally felt a surge of hope as he saw, onscreen, an open e-mail to Regan. He remembered earlier abandoning the response e-mail to Regan’s question about a posing engagement at their gym. He scanned the array of letters and tried to shorten his message as much as he could. He started by stomping on the CAPS LOCK button.
“SO HERE’S THE THING,” boomed one of the giants so loudly that Antoine could hear him in the office. It sounded like the redhead. “IT’S GOING TO BE YOUR JOB TO RETRIEVE HIM. GOT IT?”
“WAIT, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
Antoine heard a high-pitched squeal and a pop. Then, just the redhead’s laughter.
“FIND HIM, OR I’M MAKING THIS PERMANENT. YOU COULD BE REALLY USEFUL AT THIS SIZE.”
Antoine’s heart leapt--he wasn’t sure what that meant, other than that he was going to have company soon. He ran from key to key, jumping on the letters to spell out a message.
regan help
home invasion
held captive
not a joke call police and come to my house please
He guided the mouse to the SEND button and then threw all of his weight on it. His heart leapt as he saw the, “MESSAGE SENT!” flash on the screen.
Then he heard the creek of hte door behind him.
Antoine was shocked to see the blonde one at the door--what was left of him, that is. The guy who had once towered over the redhead was now a foot tall and naked. He walked with one hand over his junk as he shouldered the door open.
“Where you at you little fuck?”
Antoine’s heart quickened. What was there to be afraid of? This guy would have to grow three feet just to reach the doorknob. No way could he reach the desk!
But as the blonde approached, Antoine started to take in their massive size difference. He was surprised to see the blonde charge the desk, grabbing a leg and shaking it back and forth. Antoine cried out as he lost his balance, managing to catch the power cord as he felt, saving himself about fifteen feet above the floor.
FIfteen feet to Antoine, that is. The blonde guy only needed to leap and swipe at the air to grab Antoine’s foot. The little bodybuilder screamed as he lost his grip, landing on the ground on his back.
The blonde guy loomed over him--to Antoine’s perspective, he seemed nearly twenty feet fall.
“Fuck, look at your fucking muscles!” the blonde exclaimed as he grabbed Antoine by the ankle and yanked him up. He held Antoine upside down. Antoine tried to struggle, but the blonde just laughed at Antoine’s hardest blows. His tormentor reached out and tickled Antoine’s ripped abdomen, causing the bodybuilder to flail and kick and, despite himself, laugh.
“Caught me a whopper,” the blonde said as he threw Antoine over his shoulder. The little Olympian felt smaller than a child as he hung down the skinny blonde’s back. He marveled at the guy’s lack of muscle tone--but still, this scrawny man was easily overpowering tiny Antoine.
“Bad… boy… bad… BOY!” The blonde said as he started harshly smacking Antoine’s rock-hard glutes. “Fuck, this ass is hard as a rock!” he said. “Still, when I’m done with you, you’re not gonna be able to sit down for a week.” He continued to spank as he walked, and Antoine couldn’t take the assault. Not only was he completely exhausted; he was just too small to fight back, even against a twelve-inch-tall man.
As the blonde guy carried Antoine into the living room, they felt the electric rush in the air and heard a pop. Antoine struggled to get his muscular body upright to see what was going on. His front door was open and the redhead had the shrinking device pointed ahead of him. A pile of clothes were collapsing, presumably because their wearer had shrunk out of them.
“PUT HIM ON THE COFFEE TABLE,” the redhead ordered as he dragged the clothes inside with his foot and closed the front door.
The blonde stared up at the coffee table, twice as high as he was tall. “A little help?” he said.
The redhead, impatient, stomped across the room (a minor earthquake each time) and grabbed both of them--tiny man and tinier man--and lifted them up, plopping them on the coffee table.
“Why didn’t you grow me back?” the blonde said as he put Antoine on the table. The little bodybuilder slapped his hands over his glowing red asscheeks, his bulging glutes hotter and more sore than he’d ever felt in his life.
“CUZ YOU WERE HOLDING HIM, DIPSHIT,” the redhead said, fishing for something in the pile of clothes. Antoine’s gut went cold as he recognized the black hoodie lying in a pile at the redhead’s feet. He knew whose that was.
“THERE WE GO!” the redhead said, holding something in his hand. “NOW WE HAVE TWO MUSCLEHEADS!!”
He made an adjustment on his device and pointed it at the blonde, who grew back to full-size (but was still naked) in a flash.
“WHEW! FUCK. DUDE, YOU WOULDN’T BELIEVE HOW FUCKING JACKED THAT LITTLE DUDE IS. I WAS RESTRAINING HIM BUT HE STILL PUT UP A FIGHT--AND THAT BODY!”
The redhead scoffed. “SHUT THE FUCK UP.” He opened his hand tossed its contents at the table. Antoine had already put two and two together, and wasn’t surprised as a nude pile of tanned muscles tumbled down on the table.
“God, Regan, I’m so sorry,” Antoine said, running to his friend.
Regan leapt to his feet, staring up at the giant men looming above him. Antoine was shocked to realize that they weren’t the same height; he was staring into Regan’s abdomen, almost half his size.
“Antoine, holy shit!” Regan said. In a protective gesture, he grabbed his much smaller lifting buddy and pulled him to his rippling naked body. “What the fuck did they do?”
“ALL RIGHT, BOYS. WHAT WE’RE GOING TO DO NOW IS SHRINK EVERYTHING YOU OWN, AND THEN--LUCKY YOU GUYS--YOU’RE COMING WITH US!” The redhead pointed the device at the couch, which vanished in a flash… until Antoine saw it looking more like doll furniture a thousand feet away.
Regan used his bigger, bulging body to shield his shrunken buddy. “Antoine, how are they doing this? What are they gonna do to us?”
“Let’s just hope they keep us as pets,” Antoine said, shuddering at the possible future ahead of them. He watched as the contents of his living room disappeared in flashes of light. Then the blonde approached with one of Antoine’s fanny packs.
“PERFECT FOR STORING TINY MUSCLEFREAKS!” the blonde one boomed. Regan stood up, using his larger form to try to defend Antoine, but the big hand still snatched both of them up in one swipe, tossing them in the fanny pack.
Neither bodybuilder had time to react as their prison zipped around them. They could only lie their, their nude muscular bodies pressed against each other, as they listened to the thieves shrinking and stealing all of Antoine’s things.
“I won’t let them hurt you, buddy,” Regan said, patting Antoine’s head.
Antoine just reached down and felt his sore glutes. He didn’t have the heart to tell his friend there was nothing they could do.
Comments
Henry Cavanaugh
I always appreciate an Antoine story!
Gwahar
Wonderful work
reductionist
Great story!
