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8/25/2013 8:06 pm  #1

Shrunkle (another idea to work out)

I found myself flying through the air but caught a glimpse of a pile of clean clothes on the floor. That was where I landed, but I soon found I was rolling to my left down to the hardwood floor where I was soon on my back. In seconds I was surrounded by two socked feet, each about 7 and a half feet long, or so they seemed.

I started to get up but soon found fingers clasping around me and bringing me up where the giant then sat cross legged on the floor. In my new 10x world, his face was like that of someone on a billboard.
"Did that hurt you?," he asked a slightly high pitched voice; I responded, "not really but please don't do that," in an even higher pitched one.

Happy birthday kiddo and I hope you're enjoying your present--me. 
The giant was immense, surrounding my field of vision. He was truly huge, he was...four and a half
feet tall. He was my nephew Arlo, and I was apparently some doll come to life--or that's what others might think.

My tiny bearded face was maybe an inch in length, my feet each a bit shy of that. My hands maybe seven tenths of an inch long; in all, I was down to seven inches tall, one tenth of my previous height.
Before I was 250 pounds but now, more like a quarter of a pound. Swell, I weigh as much as some

Ten, ten, ten. He was now ten years old and I was one tenth of what I was; figuring out the square cube law, I thought, OK, he's maybe 90 pounds so 90 x 10 x 10 x 10..

And I was a--present?--to him? At his birthday party in the kitchen. I had stood on top of a plastic
plate and a plastic tumbler was placed over me--it was pretty close to seven inches tall but I had to scrunch down a wee bit so my head wouldn't hit the top, er, bottom. I remembered a TV commercial about some guy just under 5 inches tall and someone puts a commemorative glass on top of him.
Five inches tall! Ha, such a being would be as tall as my armpits, but that was just a TV commercial,
That wasn't real!

But I was. And my brother took off the glass and unveiled me to Arlo and that explained why Arlo's uncle--that's me--hadn't made the birthday party. Oh but I did...the shrunken uncle or simply the shrunkle, if you will.

An action figure that lived and breathed, and ate very, very small portions, that was me. He could tussle my hair and my beard. He could put me in a cabinet or drawer. The bathtub was now a swimming pool to me. I was like the Indian in the Cupboard--but oh no, wait, he was only three inches tall. I was now seven inches. Sixty three inches shorter than before.

And my voice was so high pitched--I could be understood but I sounded like some kind of mini cartoon character. My uncle, the Smurf.

Oh, my brother Stu had some fun with me. He put a bottle of beer bigger than I was next to me and had me stand up on a paperback book so I could reach the bottle cap. I had no chance of opening it. But he easily put it next to the bottom of his shirt and twisted off the cap. Deanna, his wife, found a very small juice glass, maybe three inches tall, and poured some beer into it. She was a little clumsy though and some of it came out and got on my right arm and shoulder. Oh swell a new
fragrance, Eau de Rolling Rock. Thanks.

You got downsized!, joked my brother. Well actually I was working as a writer so I had free time on my hands. Leave it to my brother to develop a shrinking machine and use it on me without my
permission. Thanks, Wayne Szalinski, and yes I may well write about this at some future time (and in fact am doing now thanks to an four inch long mp3 recorder*. A bit bulky but I can lift and carry it a bit.

Drive a car, not so much, unless it's a toy one.

to be continued...?

Last edited by Admin shrinkingman (8/25/2013 8:32 pm)


8/28/2013 1:19 pm  #2

Re: Shrunkle (another idea to work out)

Cool story, can't wait for some more of it


9/20/2013 2:27 am  #3

Re: Shrunkle (another idea to work out)

I like it that he writes in a journal, great start. I like the detail.


11/08/2013 8:42 am  #4

Re: Shrunkle (another idea to work out)

My brother Stu was a bit of an inventor and also, I must admit, a fan of the great and small. Books, TV shows, movies and so on about giants or little people (and I counted my blessings that I wasn't as small as the folks in Honey I Shrunk the Kids, Micro, or Cold War in a Country Garden). I didn't know how long I'd be this size and wasn't totally sure he could bring me back.
"You could stay with us or go back to your apartment," he told me; "we'd provide you with food and such."

"But what kind of life do I have at this size?"

"You can write about it, do a book, make some money."

Money. At my size, dollar bills and credit cards would be immense. I pictured myself going to a vending machine, the coin or bill acceptor some 40 feet up--no way I could climb up there and insert the money and so on. How would I even get out of my apartment, have a cat door put in?

Clothes. He said he could reduce some of mine. OK, so assuming I stay with them--I could bathe in the sink, they'd feed me. Computers would be huge but I could surf the web via smart phone.

Then as I was in Arlo's bedroom his pet happened to come in. No, his family couldn't just have the ordinary dog or cat, they had a raccoon. Even though it was supposedly illegal in our state to have one. He trotted over to me and I was greeted by the immense masked bandit face, whiskers all around, a cold black nose. His tongue darted in and out and before I knew it it was licking my face.
I pushed away with my tiny hands, as its forepaws pushed back at me. There was a loud chirring sound coming from it.

Ralph--so named after a character in the cartoon series The Raccoons--was playing with me. I tried to break free but his forelegs wrapped around me; he rolled onto his back, cradling me in his arms,
as I felt the fur on his stomach, the ringed tail occasionally coming into view. I continued to try and break loose and felt one of my tiny sneakers fall off. Arlo got it and put it back on my socked foot.

Arlo pet the raccoon with one hand and then with the other reached around me to try to break me free. He was giggling. Suddenly Ralph's mouth opened and I felt the side of his snout against my torso--and then he tried to put his mouth around one of my arms. I felt his pointed teeth and screamed. That was when I broke free but my anger got the best of me--I started punching at his stomach with my miniscule fists. Arlo reached around me with one hand and held me away from the creature.

"Don't get him upset! C'mon, pet him." I was thrust toward the raccoon's head and made a noise of disgust, then started to pet the top of the raccoon's head. He made some cooing noises then seemed to lose interest, darting away toward the kitchen and, no doubt, his food bowl and water.

I had a couple scratches on my right arm, nothing serious though I was slightly bleeding. Arlo tended to that.
to be continued

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