Mother was in her bedroom, preparing for the evening. She took out her favorite pair of white high-heeled clogs, slipping her soft, pudgy toes inside the smooth leather. The click of the heels as she stood up sounded like gunshots. Looking down at her feet, she giggled wickedly, imagining the carnage they would soon unleash.

Downstairs, her drunk friends were stumbling about, their alcohol-addled minds oblivious to the impending doom. Mother sneered as she watched them. How dare they come to her home, drink her liquor, and degrade themselves so shamelessly? They deserved to be punished. And punish them she would.

From her closet, Mother retrieved the shrinking ray gun she had built. Its sleek metal casing gleamed under the bright bedroom lights. She had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to test it out. And now, with her worthless "friends" as test subjects, the time had finally come.

Mother descended the stairs, her heels thundering against the wood like a herd of elephants. The drunkards barely glanced up, too inebriated to register the danger approaching. With a cackle, Mother fired the shrink ray. Vaporous beams of red light enveloped the sloshed revelers.

In a flash, they were reduced to the size of bugs. Shrunken men scurried about in confusion as Mother loomed above them, a goddess towering over her new playthings. She plucked them up one by one, cramming them into her clog-clad feet. Muffled screams filled her ears as mens' tiny faces pressed against her wiggling toes.

"Stupid little men,"

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