tagSci-Fi & FantasyTom The Mage: Size Matters Pt. 02

Tom The Mage: Size Matters Pt. 02


I don't give up easy. Out of spite more than anything else. I'm kind of a dick that way.

One time during the war, my platoon got lost in Glitter Swamp Country. The Emirates bombed us with some biological shit. My entire unit started coughing blood a day later. By night, two-thirds of my brothers in arms were in black body bags. Me? I hadn't even sneezed once. I thought it was a freak chance, which surprised me more than anyone else. See, me and Lady Fortuna had been fuck buddies all of my life. Not much of a relationship, except that once in a while she'd come over and shaft me in the ass with no lube. I hadn't known I was a mage back then, or that a wizards' immunity system is harder to breach than Fort Knox.

Kids are screened for magical aptitude when they are three, five and ten. Trouble is, when your mom is a Projects Meth Head, she tends to forget trivialities like healthcare appointments or dinner. Anyway, back to the war. When the Medics finally picked up the survivors in the meat wagons, they gave everyone blood transfusions. Then I almost died. Wizard's blood doesn't mix well with regular blood. I should have died, but like I said, I don't give up easy.

So, when I had been laid out, chained to Noi's roomie's bedpost, I had like five seconds of wallowing in self-pity before I started taking care of business. After all, the said roomie, according to Noi, was a horny giant girl with a pecker. I tested the handcuffs' strength. No luck there. I pushed the bed from the wall and tried to use my weight as leverage. I almost pulled my hands off their sockets. No biggie. So, I laid back on the bed and started working on a heating spell matrix. Heat can bend metal as far as I remember.

I was half way into tying the mana seams when a shadow fell over me. Then I went into panic mode.

"What the fuck?" She had a contralto voice that was not too hard on the ears. She sounded pissed.

I have never met an ogre before. They are not common in the south country, and here in the north, they are rarer than an honest elf.

"Hi," I let out what I figured was a safe conversation piece.

"Who the fuck are you?"


"What the fuck are you doing in my bed?"


"In my bed?"

"Everybody got to be someplace."

"Are you stoned, Tom?"

"I wish."

"Get the fuck off."

I rattled my handcuffs, to show her that I would if I could.

She stepped forward and leaned over me. She was a runt, for an og. Her people can reach nine feet, but she was maybe a pinkie less than seven. A head taller than me. Not a bad face. The first thing I liked about her was her eyes. Blue, big and almond shaped. The lips weren't too bad either. Generous. Nice hair too. A blonde with a ponytail. The rest... Well. I'm a shallow prick, no way around it. I'm pretty ashamed to admit it. But the first time that I saw Jessie I thought, 'what a fatty cow'. Ogs look like gaunt humans. Giant scarecrows with stringy muscles all over. Jessie, she was different. Part of the reasons that she chose to live up north. She thought she could pass for a tall human and maybe not spend her life in the toxic cloud of judgment. Oh, how wrong she was.

She wasn't obese or anything. You would call her chubby, certainly pretty if she was human. But that chubbiness stretched for almost seven feet. The end result, well. On a blind date's sales pitch when your friend asks if the bride is hot, you'd say stuff like, 'she's got a great personality'.

She had on a shapeless overall and stained green scrub. I guess that a girl her size can't be too picky. I think she recognized the look on my face which said, 'lady didn't you hear the phrase 'eat less, exercise more?'' I saw her flinch, but then she composed herself. She was used to it by now.

"Where's the key?" She growled.

I shrugged, which is pretty darn tricky when both of your hands are tied to a bedpost.

"And why the fuck are you naked? Did you and Noiflena...? On my bed? Oh, my God. Gross. I'll have to burn the mattress now. Why did she leave you like this?"

"My guess is that she figured you and I are going to do the nasty."


"I'm guessing she was wrong."

She pulled on the handcuffs. I wanted to tell her not to bother, but before I did, I heard two clicks and both chains ripped. She then went for the cuffs around my arms. Twisting the metal with her long fingers. Before I knew it, they were off too.

"You're like, super strong," I said.

"You've never met an og before?"

"Not really."

"So why did Noi think that you and I...?"

I didn't want to tell her Noi said she was foaming at the dick. "She said something about you being in a state of mind that might... You know... Lead to stuff."

"Idiot," she said.

"Me or Noi?"


I covered myself with the mattress, suddenly very much aware of my nakedness. "Yeah, she's kind of a brain donor when it comes to ogs. Do you even have a dick?"

"Want me to punch you, Tom?"

"Based on how you just ripped a stainless-steel cord, I would have to say, not particularly."

"We've been living together for three months and barely traded three sentences. Apparently, she thinks I'm some sort of a sex-crazed tranny?"

I raised my hands to show her I was cool with anything she was.

"So, I'm guessing the rumors about you being a sexual predator were a bit over the top."

"What was your first clue, Sherlock?"

"Too bad, I would have rocked your world," I said.

"Pffff... With that tiny thing?"

"Ouch. Fuck off."

"Yeah, but not with you," she shook her head. "She's such a hypocrite."


Jessie pulled off her green scrub. The thing had blood stains on it and some dubious brown splotches. She wore a black tank top underneath that was generous on her massive twins. "She wasn't just trying to frighten you," she said. "I think the little racist genuinely believes ogs are deviants. Which is fucking amazing. I mean the slag has a fiancé and she keeps a regular boyfriend on the side. Plus, twice a week she brings home a new guy. By the way, sweetie, you better get your ass to a clinic and get yourself STD-tested. For everything."

"Nah, I'm a wizard, we never get sick."

"A wiz boy?"

"I'm not scared of getting STD. STD is scared of getting me."

"You're a retard."

"Not all of the time." I got up, covering my genitals. Then I thought 'fuck it, she had already seen everything' and just put my boxers back on, right there in front of her. "Thanks for the handcuffs and all, eh... I didn't catch your name."

"I'm Jessica. Jessie. Now, piss off!"

"Aren't you going to the party?"

"Nah," she yawned. "Just finished an eight-hour shift at the hospice, and had to walk five miles home because my bicycle had a flat. Some elf kid thought it would be hilarious to stick a dead rat with a nail to my tire. I'm beat."

"You work at Hope and Peace on 22nd?"

"I volunteer there."

"On the real?"

"No, I made it up to make you go wow."


"Not everyone on Sunflower is just for the financial benefits, you know. Some of us actually believe in making the world a little less shit."

"By cleaning shit pots for pre-stiffs who ODed on black dust?" I shrugged. "Whatever works for you, Sister. I ain't judging."

"Sounds like you do, Honey. Not that I give a crap."

"Sounds like you do," I said. "I'm bouncing back to the party, Momma Theresa. Wanna come with?"

She had a surprised kind of look on her face. "Why?" She probably didn't get too many social invitations.

"Why what?"

"Why do you want me to go with you?"

"Why not? Party. Dancing. I've got played tonight big time, and I need to wind. By the look of your scrub, you need it too. I figure I owe you. Both for freeing me and for letting that little racist get inside my head with her ogs' bullshit."

"I don't dance," she frowned.

"Beer then. My treat."

"Fuck off, Mr. Zuckerberg. I saw the free beer booth on my way home."

I was beginning to like her. "Come on then. Some heavy duty drinking never hurt anybody. Much."


Jessie told me to wait outside her room. I picked my stuff from the floor and got dressed. Ten minutes later she came out with a black halter top dress that gave a nice view of her massive bazookas. She must have read somewhere that black makes you slim. The problem is that eating less is the only thing which makes you slim. Yeah I know, I'm shallow. Fuck off.

"Sexy," I said.

"Thanks," She blushed.

"Where is the Like Button?" I mimed punching an invisible button.

"Tom, you know, I'm not stupid or anything."

"You're going out to hang with me, so maybe not stupid, but you probably have very poor judgment."

"Okay, but stop."


"Sexy, Like Button. I'm not an idiot. I know what I am."



"Fuck off," I said. "I don't know what you're talking about, Momma Theresa."


"Inside some of us is a thin person struggling to get out, but they can usually be sedated with a few pieces of chocolate cake."

- Anonymous


The party was picking up when we got there. So we went straight to the beer booth. The two hot elven girls I saw there earlier must have retired to make out somewhere more private. Two human students stood behind the bar now, and they ditched the elves' 'self-service' policy for something more orderly. So now I had to stand in line. Which I fucking hate.

"So what do you do, Jessie, when you're not busy wasting your time on terminal crackheads?"

"I study Graphic Design and I work as..." She paused for a second scanning me. I think she tried to understand who she was dealing with. Her nose twitched like a rabbit's snout. It was cute. "You know," she said. "It's really sad that so many people, even ones living in here, find it so hard to feel compassion for the less fortunate."

"Yeah, really tragic."

"True measure of any society can be found in how it treats its most vulnerable members," she quoted Gandhi, I think.

"Sister, I give up my entire salary to support a poor kid. Both financially, and morally. I keep him fed and I pay the bills for his expensive education. So there."

"Let me guess. His name is Tom, and he's a wizard."

"On the real."

"A bit shallow, Tom. I totally get the 'I take care of Number One, myself' thing. But you know-"

"You don't get jack shit, Sister." I stopped her. I was getting pretty annoyed. "I grew up half a klick from 22nd Street."

"You're from the projects?"

"I know from personal experience what kind of junkies arrive on Hope and Peace Hospice. I know who they are and what kind of choices they've made in life. So, forgive me if I'm not so compassionate. I used to live here, and I got out exactly because I didn't want to end up like them." The two dudes behind the counter finally motioned for us to step forward. Which we did.

"I don't live here anymore for a good reason," I said. "I wouldn't even if Mayor Richards starts offering blowjobs with the rental discounts."

"Okay, so you represent the tiny percentage of locals who got out of the vicious poverty cycle."

"I would like to think of myself more as representing coolness, class, and a massive package."

"First, ewww. Second, I saw your package, so dream on. Third-"

"I don't represent jack shit. You and Noi, you got the same issue."

She let out a face of someone eating a cockroach on the Survival Show. "I'm nothing like Noi."

"You're both trying to fit people into boxes. The Projects... Southside is not all useless dirtballs like she thinks, or poor helpless victims like you're trying to sell. That's not how the world works, Sister. I don't represent and- There's a problem, bro?" I asked the Arian looking jock type behind the counter. He and his mustache wearing hipster friend were sniggering. Giving Jessie the evil eye. Some retards go to college but struggle to grow out of the high school mindset.

"Null problemo, bro." The jock winked at me as if we were sharing some awesome secret, then tried to high five me. I left him hanging.

"Dive for the wet spot." The hipster buddy said and started giggling like a ten-year-old girl.

I always thought the 'roll her in flour and dive for the wet spot', fat-chick joke was a riot. Standing next to Jessie and seeing the look on her face, suddenly that joke didn't feel so hot. She tried to pretend she didn't hear it, but she wasn't much of an actress.

"What the fuck, dude?" I said.

"Nothing." The jock punched his friend playfully. Shutting him up. Then he went full retard and asked me, "What will you be having?"

I stared at the kegs stacked behind him, each with a note saying 'beer', and the only thing behind his counter, then back at him.

"Alright." He made a show of filling two big plastic cups with local beer. The idiot thought he was Tom Cruise in Cocktail. "Would you like some rope with that?" He said.


"A rope."

"What do I need a rope for?"

"To tie down the cow," he started laughing, but only for half a second, because I jumped over the counter like your regular running back. His friend came at me and got the most awesome punch I ever distributed. I shit you not. I gave punches to other douchebags later in life, but they always felt like second best. He went down like the piece of crap he was. The Jock tried to swing one, but he was pretty much clueless. I'm a marine. I've got MCMAP black belt, and I regularly practice Muay Thai. But I went Southside Freestyle on his jock ass. In no time, he was on the ground and I was laying into him all of my fucked-up childhood repressed issues. I have quite a few, which is why I love a good fight. Next thing, someone picked me up into the air by the scruff of my neck, like one picks a cat.

"What the fuck!" I screamed and tried swinging at the person holding me.

Jessie, who was the one picking me up, turned me around and gave me a nice slap on the cheek. It didn't look like she was making an effort but that slap made my ears ring and sobered me real quick. "Are you done?" She shouted.

"What?" I shouted right back.

"Are you done?" She shouted.

"Can you believe this idiot?"

"I can't believe you, idiot."

"What did I do?"

"Who the fuck asked you, Tom?"

"Asked me what?" I was still shouting.

She just left me there and started walking away fast, then she started running. The two assholes were moaning on the ground. The hipster tried to stand up, stepped forward and fell on his stupid face. An awesome punch, I tell you. I heard someone say the magic word, police, which had always been my cue to pull a Usain Bolt. I ran after her.

It took me awhile to get her. Even with her dress and heels, she was still fast. She didn't go home but towards the Maxton River Bridge that connected south and north parts of New-Jerusalem.

"Hey, come on, Jessie. Stop!"

"What?" She finally stopped just under the bridge. Near the basketball courts. We could still hear the party, but the sounds weren't that loud.

"Come on. I'm sorry." I said though I wasn't sure of what I was guilty of.

"You've got some fucked up issues, Tom."

"And then some. Come on, Jessie, you can't let someone like that just walk all over you."

"Yeah, better skull-fuck them, eh?" She stomped, raising tiny clouds of dust. "Did I ask for your help? And don't pretend this was about me. You love hurting people."

"When they have it coming."

"I don't... I don't like to be the center of attention, okay? I get douche bags like him all of the time. I just ignore them and that works for me. This is hard enough as it is, without everyone staring at the fat cow, you know. What am I saying? You fucking don't." She was looking at the water, not straight at me. She was crying.

I really wanted to hug her. But I had known her for less than an hour. Besides, she was insanely strong, and I didn't know what was the og policy was about hugs. What if I touch her and it's somehow inappropriate and she decides to screw my head off my shoulders? She certainly could. It would be mighty hard to screw it back on again.

"I know that I'm fat. I don't need people to tell me that all of the time."

Fuck me, but a time comes when a man must stop being a pussy. There was a lot of her, but I'm a tall dude with long arms. She jumped at first. Like a little rabbit. Okay, not little. But she didn't screw my head off. She felt good too, and she had a nice smell. Daffodils, I think. At some point, she even rested her head on my shoulder. After a while, her body stopped shaking.

"I'm really, really sorry, Jessie. I didn't mean to embarrass you or anything. But you'll have to cut me some slack here. Okay? In my defense, I can say that I'm a total dick."

"What kind of defense is that?"

"I've got nothing else."

She laughed, which was a hell lot better than her sobbing.

"We're cool?"

She nodded. "We're cool, but I'll tag you back."

I breathed deep, as I felt a stone rolling off my chest. Crying girls give me the creep like you wouldn't believe.

I stood on my toes and kissed her wet cheek. Nothing sexy like. Just an empathic gesture. "Hey, you wanna grab that beer I promised you?"

"I'm not going back there," she said.

"Me neither. I just heard the piggy-mobile siren. Me and the fuzz don't mix very good. Wait there at the bench, for two minutes. Kay?" I pointed at a bench near a kiosk on wheels outside one of the basketball courts. A minute later when I came back empty handed she looked surprised.

"No beer?"

"Have faith, Sister. Beer is coming our way. You know what they say about the dwarf and the mountain not coming to him."

"So, I'm a mountain now, Tom? Very classy. I don't believe you've just said that. You're so sensitive."

"What? No! Hey, No! Not what I meant at all."

She covered her face with her hands.

"No! Hey, I was talking about the beer, I didn't call you fat... For fuck sake. Hey."

She pulled a smartphone, took a picture of me in full panic mode, and stuck out her tongue. "That's a keeper. Told you I'll tag you back."

"You're an asshole, Jessie." I was really starting to like this girl.

"So, when is beer coming our way?"

I pointed in the direction of the party and second later an aluminum keg from the free beer booth came rolling on its own, down the hill towards us.

"What?" Jessie laughed.

"Abraca- fucking - dabra." I said.


"A gentleman never fucks and tells, he shows a video."

The keg stopped at our feet and from behind it jumped the tiny blue form of Aliph, the lightning spirit. She's a few inches in size, but she can lift a car if she puts her mind to it. "That's the last time I do something like this for you, Tom," she chirped in her high voice. "This thing weighs a ton, and it was chained to the booth."

"Yeah, as if the people who put it there had no consideration at all to anyone who wants to nick it. Selfish."

"Who's the chick?"

"That's Jessie."

"Why do you hang around with a loser like Tom, Jessie?"

Jessie laughed. It was super funny, her laughter. Half a snort, half a squeak. "I don't know. I like him, I guess. He can do magic."

Aliph shook her head and popped back to her part of her universe.

"She's cute. How did she steal it without anyone noticing?"

"She can make stuff look like something else. One minute you're thinking you're looking at a keg of beer, next you look and it's a litter of kittens or a hobo. Very handy that girl. Rotten personality, though."

We sat near the kiosk on wheels. The owner, an ancient and tired looking black ogre (a type of a very big mountain goblin), offered us plastic cups in exchange for beer. It was a perfect spot. Some gobo kids were shooting craps on the court. But other than them and the kiosk owner, who was watching TV, there was just us. We sat there sipping free beer, like kings, watched the barges rolling down on the river carrying coal, and talked for hours. It was crazy. I couldn't remember when was the last time I felt so comfortable around someone.

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