"Hey there partner."

  A slovenly drunkard scowled at the man behind the counter, jealous at his clean shirt and straight tie.

  "Huh? What?"

  "Don't you think you two have had enough?"

  The drunkard slammed his fist down, the force of it sent the empty beer mug in front of him wobbling.

  "Who's had enough?"

  The bartender solemnly shook his head as he poured another mugful of cool draft, setting it down in front of one of his two charges. Both of the drunk men were wearing disheveled clothing that had once been tucked in and pressed, but was now wrinkled and stained foul colors. The skinny one picked up the new mug and brought it to his lips before letting a confused look cross his face.

  "What did you say your ... name was again?"

  The other drunken man, a fatter and balder specimen, blinked his eyes and looked up.

  "Maza ... (*hic*) ... Mazatowski. Mandarin Mazatowski."

  His forehead crinkled as he smiled, his breath a fetid stench that wafted through brown teeth.

  "Oh yeah." He tipped his glass and closed his eyes as the heavenly burn began to crawl down his throat.

  Behind them, in the great glass window of the pub at the O'Sheas Casino, people on the street were running across the crowded sidewalks, herding themselves in one direction to escape something that put the fear of god into all of them.

  "I used to be Sergeant you know." Mazatowski burped, smacking his lips at the comeback taste of a whiskey sour. "In the ... Los Angeles Police Department."

  "Those pigs?"

  "Wha ... you say?"

  The drunkard set down his mug and shook his head, small drips of beer flying from the stubble on the edges of his mouth.

  "Nothin' man; I didn't say nothin'. So what happened?"

  "Hmm?"

  "With the LAPD man."

  "Oh, they sent me on see ... cy ... syke ... medical leave."

  A family ran by the window. The father was carrying his son and accidentally dropped him in his haste. He stopped to kneel down to pick him up and his face went wide with horror; he quickly got back up and continued running, leaving the child behind. The boy cried for moment, then began to quietly wander away.

  "That's too bad." The drunkard took another long draught from his beer, bringing the level in his mug down past the halfway mark.

  Mazatowski took hold of his whiskey, the ice jingling against the frosted sides. A tear was forming in his right eye as his face quivered in a slight frown.

  "It's not even my ... (*hic*) ... fault. It's those damn, giant ... liberals."

  "You mean those guys in Washin-ton?" He waved a quivering hand in disgust. "Don't even get me started."

  "Nah, I mean in Los Angeles. They're rampamgin' all over downtown."

  "They gettin' into the businesses?" He waved his hand again, a drop of spit trailing down his chin. "Don't even get me started."

  "No you moron ... (*hic*) ... I mean giant fems! Whoopin' it up like filthy youngin's all over the street."

  The drunkard paused, his mouth open slightly as he studied Mazatowski. He licked his lips and swallowed. People continued to stream by the window in increasing numbers, the glass rumbling for a moment.

  "What was that again there Mandy?"

  Mazatowski bit a piece of ice in half and slammed his glass down, spilling watered down alcohol across his napkin and into the peanut dish.

  "You heard me! Giant women ... engangin' in 'lewd' conduct all over the ... (*hic*) ... place. Bustin' down buildin's and underminin' my authority."

  The drunkard's mouth opened a little wider as he tilted it slightly to one side, his eyes set in a curious stare. He looked over at the bartender.

  "He's had enough!"

  The bartender shrugged and glanced out the window as more people ran by. The glass rattled again, as if the sound of thunder was pressing against it with a violent rhythm. Cars were left abandoned in the streets, a pale film of dust covering their windshields.

  "I'm tellin' ya," Mazatowski pointed at the air around him to emphasize his point, "they're out there and they're ruinin' my life. And they're ... (*hic*) ... doin' it just to piss me off!"

  "Ah, c'mon little trooper." The drunkard put a hand on his shoulder, patting it as if trying to calm down an irrational child. "There aren't any giant women out there tryin' to get ya'. It's all up here." He pointed at his forehead, missing his eye by less than an inch. He turned back to the bartender. "C'mon give him one more to make him feel better."

  The bartender was still staring through the window, trying to ascertain where the large chunk of concrete that had crushed the hood of a Monte Carlo out in the street had come from.

  The drunkard snapped his fingers in front of the barkeep's face.

  "Hey, bartender?"

  The bartender picked up a glass and wiped the inside of it with a clean rag as he squinted. The window rattled again as a middle-aged woman ran past screaming. She tripped and landed in a heap on the sidewalk. The bartender picked up a glass and wiped the inside of it with a clean rag as he squinted. The window rattled again as a middle-aged woman ran past it screaming. She tripped and landed in a heap on the sidewalk. She sat up and looked behind her, her face contorting with a look of such horror as she threw up her arms, he almost jumped over the bar and through the glass in an attempt to protect her from whatever might be threatening her.

  He never had the chance. His own mouth dropped open as a gigantic foot, over thirty feet in length, came down upon the poor soul. It was thin, feminine with a high arch, and a light cream in color. The smooth heel hit the ground first, rattling the window with a fierce rumble that threatened to shatter the fragile pane. The rest of it rolled forward, onto the, still screaming, woman as she disappeared beneath it's glory.

  Gamblers at the bar slot machines jumped off their stools in terror, running for the nearest exit as they flipped tables and half-empty bottles out of their path. The bartender just let his eyes bulge wide and his jaw slacken further at the incredible sight before him.

  The drunkard slapped a hand down on the bar.

  "Get us another round ... ya' idget."

  The bartender watched as the heel came up off the ground, pulling up a light spray of cracked sidewalk as it did. The rest of it quickly followed as it lifted back up into the sky from which it came. He heard another rumble as it came back down farther down the street.

  The middle-aged woman poked her head back up, her hat pulled over her eyes. Her clothes were smudged with the dust that Nikki's giant toes had kicked up as they stepped down around her. She looked over her shoulder at the three-hundred foot tall naked woman that was walking away from her and quickly fainted.

  The bartender looked at Mandarin Mazatowski with wide eyes and a small 'O' shape to his lips. He picked up a half-empty bottle of brandy and an unopened bottle of whiskey, setting them in front of the two inebriated gentlemen.

  "These are on the house boys, knock yourselves out." He untied the back of his apron and slipped out of it before folding it over his arm. he took a quick step towards the exit.

  "Hey ... (*hic*) ... wait, where are ya' goin'?"

  But he was out the door. Mazatowski shrugged and picked up the whiskey and popped open the cork.

  "Maybe you're right. Maybe there aren't any big fems out there."

  "That's ... the spirit buddy."

  "All in my head."

  "All in your head buddy, shake 'em out and replace 'em with this stuff." The drunkard poured himself a brandy and held his glass up in toast. "Uh ... salud."

  They tilted back their heads and took their shots, smiling all the while as they were content in their fantasy world. People continued to scream and run all around them as Mazatowski passed out.

-     -     -

  Kim saw the pink-tainted reflection of her toned legs in the gaudy and flashy facade of the Flamingo Hilton. Her toes sank into the soft street so far below and she raised herself on her tip-toes to watch her calves flex; the act gave her another twenty-five feet difference over the one-hundred and fifty feet she already had over the hotel. She took in a deep breath, her tanned breasts swelling upward and out, and swung her arms down as she rolled back on to her heels.

  The rooftop exploded in a cloud of glittering glass and masonry dust as the top three floors cracked under her strength; the large red title letters lining the upper walls sailed into the air from the force of the impact. Her biceps stood apart from her arms in strong relief as she pushed down, her fingers tearing through floor after floor. Her shoulders pressed into the walls, their broadness crashing through a wider expanse of hotel. She ground her upper body down, brushing her firm chest over whatever she could as she felt the rough edges of broken concrete and bent steel girders glide over her stiffening nipples.

  Kim closed her eyes and began to pant as she knelt down further into the Flamingo Hilton. Her bending knee pierced the fourth and fifth floors and she felt the smooth surface of it pass through numerous rooms, crushing beds and furniture as it swept away a clear path. There was a tingling in her hips, an itch that spread it's way up her chest with a pleasant burning that she ached to grab hold of. She felt a hot drop of her ecstasy run down her thigh and around the muscular curve of her backside; she clenched her teeth as her lips curled into a feral smile.

  "KIM!!!"

  Kim opened her eyes, a light sweat coated her face and bathed her high cheek bones in a shadowed glow. She looked up Las Vegas Boulevard. Her companion Nikki was standing near the marquis sign of the Frontier Casino, towering over the thin structure by at least a hundred feet. Her body was lithe and dexterous, poised and very flexible. Kim licked her lips and began to stand up to her full height.

  Her body smashed through more of the Flamingo Hilton as she turned, the walls crumbling around her incredible physique. She felt chunks of rubble falling around her ankles, the tons of stone and rock were like grains of sand about her feet.

  To her left were the burning ruins of The Mirage and Caesar's Palace. The two goddesses had had their way with those casinos almost an half an hour earlier before working their way down to the Luxor. They tore apart the sphinx before great pyramid with their bare hands and took turns pressing their feet into the soft glass surface of the hotel. Nikki threw the giant stone obelisk at it's front gate into the wings of the Mandalay Bay.

  Kim looked down at her torso, wiping away any stray dust and bits of building that she saw.

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