Hitting the huge socked foot was like running into a brick wall.
Paul stumbled, fought to regain his balance, failed and fell on
his butt on the floor.
The giant continued to pull off clothing as he prepared to get into
bed.
The guy's jersey fell onto the floor, almost on top of Paul. He
managed to escape the huge garment.
"Hey!" Paul shouted. "Can you hear me?"
The socked feet remained flat on the floor. Paul, somewhat
timidly, approached one of the foot and beat his fists against the
cotton-clad column.
Suddenly, he heard the giant's voice. "What the...I must be more
drunk than I thought. I'm seeing little men."
"No!" Paul ran a short distance from the foot and looked up at the
giant. "Help me!"
The giant lowered his face closer. Paul shrieked in fright at the
speed of the oncoming huge face. The giant has a
square-looking face with dark eyes, a stubble of beard and his
breath reeked of beer.
"I've never been so wasted I've seen things before."
"You're not seeing things!" Paul leaped from one foot to the other
as he danced about, waving his arms over his head. "Help me!"
The giant college guy lowered his hand. "Shit," he mumbled as
his fingers closed around the bare flesh of the tiny man. "You
ARE real."
As he was lifted off the floor, Paul felt his stomach grow queasy.
And the guy was holding him too tightly.
"Easy," he complained. He found himself staring into the giant's
eyes. He looked familiar. He couldn't recall the giant's name,
only that he was one of his son Don's friends.
"You know my son!" Paul announced.
The giant's eyes tried to focus. "Don DeSoto! You can't be Don's
dad!"
"I am!" Paul yelled. "You've got to take me to Don."
"My name's Steve," offered the giant.
"Fine, thanks Steve. But how about taking me to Don?"