Caruthers

Caruthers

Pete scratched his naked arse. Just a few moments before he had been
considering selling that selfsame arse to Bums-R-Us Reclamations Dept
but now he had spied the mini-person slumped between the skirting-board
and the Egyptian stencil gun, that changed everything. He had a chance
to redeem himself.

Pete scrambled over to the mini-person and very carefully poked him in
the ribs. The mini-person, coughed, spluttered and sat up.

"Where am I?" he said.

"You don't remember?" said Pete.

"That's why I'm asking. Are you stupid?"

Pete shook his head. He hadn't expected the mini-person to be quite so
uppity; he had often associated kindness with smallness, smallness with
timidity. He wondered if this was the kind of talk that had landed the
mini-people in the attach? case to begin with. Often people didn't like
to be confronted by the opposite of their expectations.

"Well," said the mini-person.

Pete took a deep breath and then he told his story starting at Jo
cutting his head and finishing with the house being broken into. He
told it in the style of Bernard Cribbens on Jackanory except that he
was naked and the end of his cock was gently brushing the manmade
fibres of the carpet as he spoke. It was a comforting sensation and one
that reminded him of his childhood in Essex reading Enid Blyton books
naked while downstairs his parents argued.

"You don't remember any of that?" Pete said crossing his legs in such
a way that his cock lifted from the floor. Like a Pavlovian response
this meant that the story was over.

"I remember you bringing us here but then after that everything is a
blur." The mini-person took a deep breath. "At least we all
escaped."

"That's right," said Pete and then he added. "What do you mean by 'we
all escaped'?"

The mini-person looked up, looked left, looked right. He seemed to
realise for the first time he was all alone. Except for a large naked
person.

"You moron!" said the mini-person. "You mean you didn't hide
us?"

"I hid you under the sofa."

"The first place any self-respecting criminal would look. Didn't you
think someone would be after us?"

"I didn't know," said Pete. "I was just making a toilet deal. It's the
kind of thing I do." Pete picked up the Egyptian stencil gun and held
it aloft. "I bought this in the gents of the Dog and Duck and no-one's
been after this."

"I wonder why," said the mini-person under his breath but still
perfectly audible.

Pete was thinking that this mini-person wasn't all he cracked up to
be. He shrugged, scratched his arse again and then sniffed his fingers.
This was another of his bad habits. They always came out when he was
agitated.

"Tell me," said the mini-person, "these people who broke into the
house, what did they look like?"

"Well..." said Pete.

"Yes?" said the mini-person.

"I...."

"You did see them, didn't you?"

"One looked like Godzilla," said Pete, "and one looked like
Godzooki."

"I don't believe it," said the mini-person. "You really are a moron.
And because of your stupidity we're all doomed."

****

Pete prepared lunch as a kind of peace offering. He was also hungry. He
had cheese and onion sandwiches. The mini-person a crumb and the watery
bit you normally find around a tomato seed.

"What's your name?" said Pete, sitting down cross-legged on the floor
next to where the mini-person was slumped dejectedly.

"Sean," said the mini-person.

"I'm Pete," said Pete. "About your friends. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too," said Sean. "I was pissed off. I shouldn't have blamed
you. It's just that we've had a bad few weeks."

"That's ok," said Pete. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," said Sean breaking a piece off the crumb and biting into it,
"go for it?"

"What were you doing with that old man in the toilet?"

"It wasn't what you think," said Sean.

Pete took a bite from his sandwich. He didn't know what he thought.
He'd had his fair share of encounters with old men in toilets before
but he'd never ended up being sold in an attach? case. Mind you, he
wasn't two inches tall.

"I'd be interested to know what happened, if you feel like telling
it."

"We come from the sunken island of Timbuktu," said Sean. "Me and those
other five people you saw, we're scientists."

"I see," said Pete.

"We're working on a growth hormone."

"I see," said Pete again. "Um... how's it going?"

"The results have been spectacular," said Sean standing up and holding
out his arms. "I mean, look at me."

"Yes," said Pete. He put his head on one side. He looked the little
man up and down. It didn't take an awful long time.

"I can see you're sceptical. But in your terms I used to be a
microdot. I am now a hundred times my natural size."

"Amazing," said Pete.

"It is," said Sean. "Too amazing. Word got out. One day we were
working quite happily in the lab when they swooped and got us."

"Who did?"

"Don't know?" said Sean. "That's the mystery. All I know is someone is
after our spectacular growth technology. I've worked that much out for
myself. For the last two weeks we've been in boxes, crates, shoes, God
knows what. Then you turn up."

"Your lucky day."

Sean burped. He didn't say anything.

"About before," said Pete. "I wasn't being a moron. The people who
took your friend, they did look like Godzilla and Godzooki."

"I'm a man of science" said Sean, "not science fiction. I don't get
it."

"It's an American thing," said Pete. "People buy monster bodies. We've
got some of them over here but not many. They mostly work at the same
place. Monsters Inc. They hire themselves out for parties, bar
mitzvahs, funerals, you know the thing."

"I don't believe it," said Sean. "You are a moron."

"What?" said Pete.

"You've been sitting here chat, chat, chatting and you know where we
can maybe find these freaks who stole my friends."

"I...."

"Don't burble. We need to make a plan. I don't want any more screw
ups. But first, can I use your toilet. I'm bursting."

Pete looked at Sean. He was still two inches high. Luckily he had an
idea.

"I'll get you a chair," said Pete. "If you stand on that you'll be
able to pee into the bowl. But try not to splash. Jo's very particular
about things like that. He doesn't like splashes."

****

"You sure this will work?" said Sean.

Pete was thinking positive, acting positive. Just like the title of
that book Jo had bought him the previous Christmas.

"Sure," he said. "Positive."

"Because we don't need any more cock ups," said Sean.

"Right," said Pete.

Truth be told he wasn't thinking positive, acting positive he was only
thinking about acting positive but probably not doing it.

He had never read that book. Once when him and Jo had been short on
toilet paper they had used the pages from that book. It had been so
soft and smooth they had continued to use it even when they had a new
roll. Pete had even recommended it to a few friends.

"We need this plan to work," said Sean. "It not only matters for my
friends, but for the whole of mankind."

"No pressure there then," said Pete.

The plan as it turned out had been almost all his idea. After the
toilet trick, which he had to say had worked a treat, he had been on a
role.

"I've got this old friend Caruthers," he said. "He's a bit of a dodgy
type. He can probably kit me out like a monster and then I can go and
hang out at the Monsters' Ball Inn and try and get some inside
information on Godzilla and Godzooki."

"Good plan," Sean had said.

Although now Pete didn't think so. Truth was he hadn't seen Caruthers
since he had met Jo. Him and Caruthers used to have this scam. Pete
would measure someone's inside legs Caruthers would pick their pocket.
They were the dream team of Leg Up, New Legs for a New You. Their scam
never failed. When you are measuring someone's inside leg they are so
worried about the correct position of their cock that they never think
about their pockets, front or back.

However, when Pete had met Jo Jo had wanted him to give up all that.
So he had. He loved Jo and he hadn't seen Caruthers for over a year.
Last he heard Caruthers was working in a body seconds shop in Chinatown
which was where they were heading now. Pete was striding purposefully
along and Sean was in his top pocket standing on a wadded up
handkerchief.

"Just one thing," said Pete.

"Yes?" said Sean.

"I've got to be back by three. I'm cooking tea tonight."

"We could be talking about the end of the world," said Sean.

"You've seen Jo in a bad mood then, have you?" said Pete.

And that's when he saw him.

He stopped dead in his tracks. The mini-man would have stopped too but
he wasn't even moving.

to be continued?