As you feel the seconds trickle by, slowly - a lot like a particularly large sweat drop gathering above your head, you curse your luck. Honestly, you weren't sure that being flattened by a soccerball wouldn'tve been better than being stuck to dry along with your little sister's filthy orange knee-high socks. These things way are thicker than they had any right to be, and they acted like a damn sweat sponge, so even after nearly an hour they were still sopping wet. And Samantha was actually crazy enough to think you LIKED this shit? And she just balled you up in here, and then STUCK IT INSIDE HER DIRTY CLEATS. The preteen foot funk that pervaded the air kept you awake the whole time, though you'd much rather have passed out by now. Seriously, when was she going to get you out of here, you were starving now, even though the stench did little to whet your appetite. God, how could you have been stupid enough to actually give her a footrub, though? I mean, only a real pervert would go anywhere near her disgusting feet. Surely she would've forgiven and helped you, she was probably just teasing until you actually went along with it. You just hoped to get out of this ripe hell and into some fresh air, preferably a bath. And one at a normal size too.
If you have to put up with the stench of your little sister's post-soccer feet for even a minute longer, you might actually go insane. Thankfully, for once you're glad to hear loud boomings, and an explosion that is most likely just your little sister's door closing. Finally, you're going to be freed from this damn hell.
You hear some rummaging sounds, and the TV in her room turning on. She'll let you out... any second now... As if to mock you, instead the only thing you can hear is her popping a soda can and opening a bag of chips. You can hear her chomping them down, what is at normal size just feet away. You yell at the top of your lungs, but you can't be heard over whatever game she's playing - probably Call of Duty, one of her favorites.
Any second she'll remember you... "Brrr, it's kinda cold in here," she off-handedly remarks as she rustles around above you, probably pulling her fluffy blanket over herself. Well, you were perfectly warm stuck in this fetid hell, so why didn't she get you out and put her socks back on? Honestly, at least that would get you out... and even if she kept you in them, they couldn't possibly reek more than her cleats. I mean, with as long as she was gone... it felt like an hour... she'd had to have gotten a shower by now. Surely she won't just leave you in here all night to starve to death? Well, dehydration would probably come first... even at this level, you refused to stoop so low as to suck the sweat out of your little sister's filthy soccer sock.
After another round of the game, your little sister chugged the last of the soda in her can, burped, and threw it to the floor. Spotting her cleats laying there, she suddenly remembers leaving you there. Finally feeling movement, you couldn't be more grateful when you're unceremoniously dumped out in front of your big little sister sitting crosslegged on her bed.
"Heya big bro... enjoy your time with my socks?" she says, giggling and cocking her head to the side like she's being funny.
After taking a few breaths of glorious clean air, you're glad to see your prison tossed away - though not far enough away that it's lingering odor doesn't taunt you still. "Seriously, Samantha?! You left me in there for like two hours! Did you at least bring me something to eat?"
Samantha pouts at your outburst. "Jeez, you don't have to be so rude. I even let you rest in my socks like you wanted, and it's literally 7:20, soooo... it's been like, an hour forty-five max. And so uh, I kinda forgot to save you any food... I was actually really hungry... you know, from that practice you were supposed to do with me, so I kinda just super carried away and ate your plate too. Sorry."
You groan. "Okay, can I at least have one of those potato chips you were eating?"
Samantha shrugs, looking in the bag. "I kiiiinda already ate them all. I mean, at your size these crumbs might be a full meal though, so here you go~!" and like that she dumps the remnants of the Lay's bag right on your shrunken form. You've been abused so much you don't even question it any more, you just grab the biggest chunk that didn't get stuck in your hair and ate it. You were starving, and this was basically nothing. "Oh, I just got picked up for a match, gimme a sec Nick."
Your sister's not even interested in toying with you compared to her stupid game. You... honestly really almost preferred when she was teasing you before. At least you were being treated more like a human than a gerbil to dump food on. And those crumbs did NOT satisfy your hunger. You spotted a fallen chip under your sister's dirty foot that she must not have noticed. It had crunched in half, but... it still looked edible... and you were so hungry, so maybe just a little bit of it would fine. At least the side that hadn't touched her foot, right?
You crawled over to her foot as she focused intently on the screen, tongue stuck out. Good, as long as you could at least keep your dignity, you could survive even this injustice. As you closed in, you could tell she had NOT showered, those feet still reek of preteen sweat, renewing the images of you giving her a footrub. Dear lord, this was nasty. You grabbed the half of the potato chip not ground into dust under Samantha's disturbingly huge foot, and scamper away. You have to brush a small piece of orange lint off it, and you know it's going to taste extra salty, and maybe even a bit cheesy from the sweat, but you were so hungry it didn't matter. It didn't take you long to devour it down.
Behind you, your sister's mouth had dropped, and she burst out laughing. "Oh my god! Nick! Did you just pick a friggin' potato chip off my foot and eat it! I'm not sure whether to be grossed out or impressed, but you're way more entertaining than CoD that's for sure! I was just kidding about the foot rub, since you left me out for practice, but... jeez, did you really shrink yourself down just so you can, like, hang out with my giant, stinky soccer feet? That is so..."
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