As Tim peeked around the corner, he was not prepared for the sight that greeted him. In his rush for the chest, he had really ignored the rest of his house, and how his foyer had become an enormous cavern. A man the size of a three-story building had just let himself into the place.
"Hey Tim," the giant bellowed so loud that Tim covered his fragile ears. He could feel the table vibrate under his feet. "Saul isn't here today, it's Scott!"
Scott. Of course Tim had known right away when he first saw the man, but his predicament hadn't really sunk in until the words "Saul isn't here today" rattled the house. Scott was nicknamed "the brute" by the other guys, not because he was mean, but because he was the biggest, strongest, toughest, hairiest one of the bunch. Behind his back, guys said that he probably had a medical condition that made his body produce too much testosterone, but nobody was dumb enough to say it to his face. At 6' 4", his muscles bulged and his tank-top revealed thick hair on his chest, and a lighter covering on his arms and legs. He had a brown moustache, thick eyebrows, and a strong jawline. He was often talking about sex, cracking sex jokes, and basically had a reputation to fuck anything that moved. Tim was sure that he had heard Scott jacking off in his bathroom before more than once. It was a strange thing for a full grown man to do, so Tim thought that maybe the stories about about Scott having some kind of condition might be true after all.
And now, that very same Scott that Tim had wrinkled his nose at was standing in his entry way. In all likelihood, Scott was his only hope. Tim was jarred out of his reverie as Scott turned to see the chest on the table. "Tim," the giant shouted again, but it was clear he didn't expect an answer.
At that moment, Tim realized two things:
First, he had finally stopped shrinking, somewhere short of six inches.
Second, Scott was coming right for him!