Do you have a square to spare?

If someone had told me in 2004 that I would be creating giantess collages in 2006, I would have laughed. I clearly remember looking at collages and thinking, Wow, now this is something I’m never gonna waste my time doing.

Then I got my avatar at Giantess.com (after I won an enigma contest and the corresponding 750 points), which as you know is a small image that somehow should represent you, always next to your posts. It was my first “purchase” with points at that board, and I proceeded to have obscene amounts of fun with it.

Officially, my first collage was created because I had a penchant for changing my avatar about once a week. When members at Giantess.com found that place online to create different South Park characters based on their own physical appearance, many of them used those images as avatars at GDC. I wanted to join in on the fun, so I created this one:

My favorite characters
My favorite South Park characters

I’m the tall one, of course.

Then, during the World Cup I was inspired to create a few fútbol-related ones, and after that I had caught the collaging bug, but didn’t know it until I felt compelled to work on my first medium-sized collage:

He will spare a square if he knows whats good for him.
He will spare a square if he knows what's good for him.

Remember that Seinfeld episode? Well, it was not the inspiration for this collage (created some time in July 2006), but now I can’t help but think of it when I look at this image. It was borne out of my need to look for shoes, stilettos to be precise. I came across the image of the woman using the toilet, and the rest practically wrote itself.

I can image a woman (let’s call her Undersquid) caught in the bathroom without tissue, and asking her little man to give her a square….

She sat, thinking. She was done with what she had gone there to do, but did not move, so distracted she was with thoughts of her day and what still shocked her as her new life.

It’s his new life, really, she thought. My life hasn’t changed much. I still get up and go to work, come back and spend the rest of my day with him….

She worried. What if he kept getting smaller? His height had reached a plateau between seven and eight inches in the last few months, but that didn’t mean it would stay that way forever. She sighed and reached for some toilet paper, her fingers sliding over the empty cardboard cylinder that rolled in place with a fwapt.

Dang it! I’m all out.

And then she heard it, a scratching, squirreling sound that came from below the bathroom sink, where she kept what she knew what the last roll of toilet paper in the house and other bathroom items. She looked to her right, bending over far enough and just in time to see the squeaky cabinet door open very slowly. It jerked, closing back a bit, and then, after a fragile-sounding grunt, it opened wide enough to allow the passage of a roll of toilet paper. The only roll. It hit the tile floor with a delicate thump, and its momentum turned it over a couple of times, but she wasn’t looking at it anymore.

A pair of manly legs, toy-sized and naked, were hanging from the base of the cabinet, and dropped onto the floor. His little feet slapped the floor when they hit it, and then scurried the body they carried into visibility, when she saw him run to the roll of toilet paper he was now intent on transporting from its rightful place, to whereabouts undisclosed.

“Honey, what in the world are you doing?” her voice echoed in the tile-wall bathroom. The rascal didn’t even turn to look at her.

“Nuttin.” He pushed the roll, aiming it toward the bathroom door and moving it away from her.

“What do you mean, ‘nothing’? I can see you are taking a whole roll of toilet paper! Could you bring it this way, please? I’m all out here.”

“No.” He said, simply. Her eyes widened a tad. It wasn’t as though he never said “no” to her. In fact, he was the most recalcitrant, reticent, resolute man she had ever loved, but this was too much! She needed what he had, and now. Her gaze must have burned his skin, because he glanced at her for one second when he stopped to take a break from his energetic pushing. He sat on the floor, the roll a convenient wall between them.

“I can’t. I don’t have a square to spare,” he chirped, blushing.

“Darling, what is going on?” she shook her head, and smiled condescendingly. “You need to bring me that roll now. I need to wipe myself!” Her eyes grew wider as she thought, What’s with him? Maybe he wants to use it as writing paper, but he could just say that!

“I’m sorry, but I won’t. I need every bit of this roll. You are just going to have to find something else-“ He began to unbend his legs from underneath his body when, filled with impatience, she lifted and brought her heeled foot down with great force. He couldn’t help but flinch, but mirrored her eyes and didn’t look away. He was no longer getting up, though.

“Oh, sweetie, you need to learn who wears the pants in this house,” she said, and dove off the toilet bowl, her hand shooting in his direction like a bird of prey.

A few seconds later, roll and man in hand, she did as she pleased as he argued, “But you’re not wearing paaaaants!”

And here, because I can, I’m posting a song I think goes well with the scene.

INXS – Need You Tonight

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