Tessie Marie's Story

Too short for your photo shoots, huh? Well, I hope you got plenty of pictures now, bitches. At only 5 feet tall, every modelling agency in Miami had rejected Tessie's applications to pose for them. While she had the right body type and above average bust-waist-hips measurements, they said her diminutive size made her look puny, at best; unable to be taken seriously. Even the sleazier agencies had laughed at her. That was the last straw. Tessie had been trying to find decent work - work that she could enjoy, rather than just any old job as a waitress or a dancer. A job where she could haul in easy money with little effort. Wasn't tall enough, was she? Well, once she stood her full height, she was certainly tall enough. Too tall, in fact. The lucky photographers who saw her grow were the first to go - she popped them between her fingers like little ants. Then she smashed thier studio. Then she hunted down the rest of the studios in Miami, and trashed those too. And why stop with little one, two, and three story studios for fashion and adult entertainment models? She was already 500 feet tall, unstoppable, and amazingly strong. So she destroyed the rest of the city too, knocking over high rises and skyscrapers, laying waste to the port, and even sinking a few ships. That felt good. Of course, it meant she couldn't stay in Miami anymore.

Let's see, I already trashed Los Angeles and Los Vegas, though I suppose they've already rebuilt the strip by now. Now there's new skyscrapers I can wrestle with now... But as she flipped through channels in her hotel room in Tampa, where she'd arrived after finding a convenient place to squeeze back to her former size and hitching a ride while pretending to be a refugee fleeing the destruction wrought by the great and terrible Giant-Tessie, she saw a celebrity entertainment feature about New York. Now that was an idea. Instead of bikinis or nothing at all, she could catwalk in the very latest designs of the greatest American designers. She'd show those twiggy little skeletons people usually associated with professional fashion models what a healthy woman looked like; as well as that beauty didn't have to look fragile enough to snap like toothpicks. And those effeminate little pricks who called themselves fashion artists thought she was too fat because her BMI was optimal for a 5 foot tall woman, then she'd have great fun laying waste to New York. It was bigger than even Los Angeles, and Tessie had had great fun toppling and wrestling the skyscrapers there. So she bought a train ticket to New York.

No one noticed the petite woman with a big chest on the long ride north. If they did, thier eyes never found her face - they all stared at her bust. And even if they could, no one seemed bright enough to connect this shy, demur girl with the towering titaness who could topple buildings like building blocks and rip houses right up from thier foundations and crumble them like dirt clods. And even if they did, what could they do? At 20 feet, bullets no longer were fatal. Taller still, and they couldn't even break her skin - not even 30 mm armor piercing/high explosive rounds. Besides, no one wanted to tick off a girl who could grow into a mighty giantess at any minute - not even the police.

So, Tessie arrived in Grand Central Station unmolested. She gathered her bags and stepped off the train, making a beeline for the concourse and the streets above. When she reached ground level, she paused and took in the view. Now if only every city were like this, she thought. Each building was nearly as tall as she was. At full size, they'd come up to her shoulders, or even extend a few "inches" above her. Some would tower even above her, though they'd be no match for her strength. She almost hoped she could find an excuse to grow. She was liking this town already.