Some of the townsfolk thought they could escape having to attend Laura's little get-together. But when Harold Bailey lost his barber shop for refusing to come out, they all conceded to her wishes.
There weren't that many people living in Paradise and they had had meetings around the water tower before, but it was a little crowded as everyone bunched around the base and the giant Laura paced around them.
"I'm not such a bad person." She was rubbing her hands together in the same way an annoyed teacher would as she chastised a group of naughty kindergartners. "All I wanted was to be given a little bit of respect. The slightest bit of courtesy from anyone of you little pieces of shit would have gone such a long way. Couldn't any of you see that?"
Burt was glad to have gotten out of the theater; it was especially hot up in the projection booth since the air conditioner had broken down. He casually glanced around the crowd, hoping Laura didn't notice the fact he wasn't paying much attention. Almost the whole town seemed to be here. He didn't see that Barry fella anywhere, but Burt was sure that he was with his wife and daughter somewhere among the crowd. Sitting next to him was Ethel; she was quite grumpy and non-remorseful for someone whose husband was now a grease stain cooking under the sun up the road. He shrugged and went back to sitting quietly as he chewed his gum.
"But none of you wanted to care, you were all just too damn self-important to even try. Now it's too late for all of you."
The water tower was built when he was just a kid; everyone had had a hand in it's construction. Burt himself helped make some of the nails with a number of the other children. He wasn't sure where all of his nails were, but he knew that three on one the base corners were his as well as a number of the ones in the reservoir. The townspeople were proud to have made it and it stood smug as the tallest structure in Paradise at a whopping fifty feet in height. Laura beat it out by a few yards.
"Did you really think you could walk all over me and I would just stand for it? That I would go through my entire life mindlessly doing your bidding and not getting any thanks or ample compensation in return?" She glared about the hushed crowd, "well? DID YOU?"
Burt was 72 years old and he had no business looking at younger girls. Yet the sight of this gargantuan woman sent fires through him he hadn't felt since the sixties. Her youthful skin glowed under the harsh sunlight, the tan skin shining merrily. The ground trembled slightly whenever one of her feet touched the ground; he figured they were each probably longer than he was tall and he found that exciting. Her legs were thin, even at their current size, but they were also long and well-toned. Her calves had a narrow diamond shape with the lines of definition dark as they hid in the deepening shade of her muscle. Burt nodded in admiration.
"There's going to be some new rules around here. ALL OF YOU ARE MY SLAVES AND WILL DO MY BIDDING! I OWN YOU AND WILL DO WITH YOU AS I PLEASE! THAT'S RULE NUMBER ONE!"
She was wearing what appeared to be a large piece of leather that had been torn in half. The piece that draped around her waist was just wrapped around once and tied in a way that showed all of her left thigh. Strands of loose fabric dangled from the bottom of it and bounced up and down on her tan skin as she continued to pace back and forth in front of her cowering audience.
"Rule number two : NO ONE LEAVES TOWN!" She shook a fist furiously in the air to drive home her next point, "ANYONE CAUGHT TRYING TO ESCAPE WILL BE BEATEN SEVERELY ABOUT THE HEAD AND SHOULDERS. AS I'VE SAID BEFORE, NONE OF YOU CAN GET AWAY. ALL OF YOU WILL PAY FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO ME! JUDGMENT DAY IS HERE BABY AND PAYBACKS ARE A BITCH!"
Everyone shuddered in fear and self-pity; a number of women and quite a few men started crying. All of them were thinking about saving themselves and forgot about everyone else around them. Laura just stood there and kept screaming.
"AND WHATEVER YOU DO, DON'T PISS ME OFF! THAT'S RULE NUMBER THREE. YOU'RE ALL ALREADY ON MY SHIT-LIST AND I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO PUT UP WITH ANYMORE OF YOUR CRAP!" She glared down below at them, "YOU GOT THAT!?!"
The muscles in her stomach tensed as she ranted. Her breasts jumped up and down in the flimsy halter top they were strapped in. She shook her arms in the air and her brunette mane went flailing around her giant head. Burt found himself wondering if her hair was still as silky and soft as it was before she had grown; he sighed. After a few moments, she began to regain her composure. She stopped and stood steadily before them, her firm and gorgeous chest slowly raising up and down as she took deep and calming breaths. He watched the creases in the fabric of her top smooth out as she breathed in and return back to normal as she breathed out.
"If you sorry excuses for human beings can follow these simple guidelines, we shouldn't have too much trouble."
Burt looked at one of her oversized hands and saw Greg. He never much cared for Greg, but the sight of the unfortunate lad passed out in a desk chair tied up tighter than a snare drum was a sorry one. His limp body kept flopping around like a rag doll as Laura moved. Every so often he would moan, his cries going unheard by most of the crowd; especially when she shook her fists. Burt couldn't help but giggle at the poor bastard.
"Do all of you little piss-ants think you can handle these tiny restrictions?"
Most people sat riveted to their spots. Burt and a few others nodded quickly.
"GOOD!"
Everyone cringed and shrank away; some raised their hands over their heads as if to ward off one of the Plagues of Egypt.
"Now for a quick demonstration of what will happen to any trouble makers."
Laura looked through the crowd, she knew who she was looking for and wanted to do this quickly for maximum effect.
"Paul? WHERE THE HELL IS PAUL!?!"
A tight group towards the edge of the gathering quickly began to disperse. At it's center was a bewildered man who had trouble deciding which way to run. When he realized he didn't have anyone to hide behind, he looked up and almost fell over backward under Laura's cold, steel-like gaze.
"Wh ... who? Me?"
At his words, her expression melted into one of false concern.
"Hey there Paul."
He looked around for help, but no one had the courage to offer it, she just smiled.
"Do you remember back in elementary school when you stole my underwear and showed it off to everyone in class?"
It took him a few seconds, but he nodded eventually.
"Remember how you tied it to the flagpole and ran it up for all to see?"
He swallowed once and nodded again.
Laura suddenly sneered and brought her long leg back. It shot forward in a tan blur. The powerful kick sent Paul's body rocketing backward; luckily, most people were able to get out of his path. Wilbur, however, was hit by a rogue shoe in the chest and fell over gasping. Burt watched him sail over the wreckage of Roy's Diner and hoped the boy landed safely, but he knew that this wasn't one of his movie reels and Paul was probably dead just from the impact with her foot. Someone screamed, then feinted.
"Well I feel better. How about you Greggy?" Her captive just moaned. "Of course, I haven't had the chance to clean up lately. I think I'll walk over to the mountains and take a quick shower." She held out her finger and waved it warningly, "now don't any of you get any ideas while I'm gone. There's only one way out of town," she bent down and knelt on her knees as her visage turned menacing, "and I'll hunt you down if you try to make a break for it."
Laura stood back up and scrutinized the petty crowd. She couldn't trust any of them any farther than she could throw them; even if that was pretty far at this point.
"I think I might have to make a few changes right now for added insurance."
And with that, she began to take long strides towards the only gas station in town.
Burt knew he wasn't going to like this.
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