"Excuse me," Carrie said, flipping the top of the bottle and drinking a few drops of the formula, "but I'm a little thirsty." Within seconds, she began to grow larger.
"Or should I say, a big thirsty!"
She smiled down at her husband from her new, 22-foot height. John now barely reached her shapely, pantyhosed kneecaps. "Who's the little one now?" she said
with a smirk.
"Gimme some of that stuff!" he cried, leaping to grab the growth bottle from her hand -- but she playfully kept it just out of his reach.
"Fe-fi-fo-fum!" Carrie mockingly bellowed, "or should I say fe-fi-fo-femme!" She stored the formula in her purse, zipped it tightly, then bent down to pick up her
husband. At first he was horrified, but she smiled sympathetically at him as she picked him up. To her giant eyes, he was now the size of a newborn.
"I'm not going to hurt you," Carrie said as she began walking down the street, three stories high. "But I think I'm going to choose where we'll eat."
Clutched tightly in her left arm, John tried to reach across for her purse, which was slung around her right. However, Carrie's now-impressive bust got in the way.
"That tickled!" she grinned as she felt her husband's hand brush against her left nipple. "You know, if I returned to our world at this size, I bet you'd never go to a
strip club again. None of those dancers can measure up to me!"
"Whatever you say, hon," John meekly replied. "Just don't drop me."