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, That’s something I’m never gonna waste time doing.

Then I got my avatar at Giantess.com (after I won an enigma contest and the corresponding 750 points), which I typically created in my own image, always accompanied by a shrunken man. 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
The best characters

I’m the tall one, of course.

Then, during the World Cup I was inspired to create a few soccer-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, distracted as she was with thoughts about her day, and what still shocked her as her new life.

It’s really his new life, 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. She sighed and reached for some toilet paper, her fingers sliding over the empty cardboard cylinder that rolled in place with a fwapt.

Crap! I’m all out.

And then she heard it, a scratching, squirreling sound that came from under 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 immediately, and then, after a fragile-sounding grunt, it opened wide enough to allow the passage of that last roll of toilet paper. 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.

The cabinet door did not close all the way back. Down the bottom appeared a pair of manly legs, toy-sized and naked, dangling from the base of the cabinet, swinging charmingly before they dropped onto the floor. The door continued jerking slightly, kept open by his slight body as those legs walked along the base. His little feet slapped the floor as his body scurried into visibility, and the cabinet door finally creaked back in place as she watched him scamper 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, winged by her greedy fingers.

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

* * *

 

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4 thoughts on “Do you have a square to spare?

    • Foolish? Maybe. I’ve always liked the notion of a rebellious, argumentative little guy. So she’s sitting there, and tells him to bring over the roll. So he does. Fizzling credits roll. But when he says “no”, a whole world of opportunities presents itself. So much to be curious about. Why does he say “no”? Where’s he going with an entire roll? What did he plan to do with it? And I also love that the answers to those questions are a subtext in her mind. Her present need is the driving force behind her motions, her further enquiries, and possibly any encouragement he’ll feel in answering them.

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