Giant Michael is…dead?

Kissing another man for two weeks was hard enough for the Giant.
Being underwater whilst kissing another man for two weeks was incredibly hard.
It was a wet nightmare.

The rain came down thick, fast and clearly very happy to be there.
Denver was not expecting this.
“Quick, come with me”.
“WHERE?”
“There’s been a breach, we’ve got to get out quickly”, Denver pulled the Giant under the green light, both of them staring up at it.
“WE HAVE TO WAIT” stated the Giant.
“Not this time” replied Denver.
The light went red. Everything else seemed to go black.

Giant Michael hated birds. Every species. He also hated breezes, corridors, golf, and the ‘mute’ button. He once made his very own ‘fade out’ button and tried to tape it over ‘mute’. It failed. He felt awful.
The Giant took a lunge toward the bird. He missed. The Giant landed face first. The bird landed on his back. The Giant swiped and missed again. Birds were always tricky. Denver just stood there, looking like he had expected this sort of behaviour.
“I expected this sort of behaviour” said Denver.
“BIRD” said the Giant. The bird had flown down the corridor towards the lift. It then turned and flew back towards them. The Giant got to his feet. He was ready this time. The previous light had turned red again. The bird waited. The Giant made another lunge, but Denver jumped in to stop him.
“I told you”, Denver struggled, “you’ve got to wait”.
The light went green, the bird flew straight into the Giant’s mouth. He swallowed. Giant Michael wondered if he’d shit out the beak like last time. Then it started to rain. Indoors.

Approaching the end of the corridor, getting warmer.
“WARMER” said the Giant.
“I couldn’t agree more” said Denver.
The small noises stopped. Denver held lightly on the Giant’s left arm. They stopped walking. They were near to the next red light.
It was humouring their skin with its seedy connotations.
“I’m afraid we have to wait for this one”. Denver let go of the Giant’s arm. The Giant ducked his head a little more. The red light started to brighten. Within half a minute it was vibrant orange, and buzzing. The Giant’s complexion barely changed. He was pretty orange no matter where he stood. Especially without clothes. The light made a clicking sound and turned green. Denver took the lead this time. It was still a little warm, but with a draught. The small noises returned. Giant Michael liked the small noises. They sounded like birds. The draught felt like a breeze. He saw the far end of the corridor shudder in its darkness. The small noises became larger noises. A bird flew into the corridor.

Some prick walked into the corridor, walked up to the Giant.
“Ah, and you must be Giant John.”
“JOHN?” said the Giant. This made him furious. He wanted to get an axe and chop down a big fucking tree. He was fed up of this shit. He stopped walking. Looked at the prick. The prick left. Giant Michael was still naked.

Denver led the Giant through the mirror/door into a lift. Giant Michael had to stoop in the lift in fear of banging his head and starting the buzzing noise again. He was getting hungry and glad food wasn’t too far away. There were only three floor options listed in the lift: ‘TOP’, ‘MIDDLE’, ‘BOTTOM’. Denver went with ‘MIDDLE’.

10 seconds later they got out. One long corridor. Dark. The occasional red light along the way. Small noises at the far end. The Giant wasn’t afraid of anything. But he was hungry. They walked under a red light - as soon as they had it turned blue. Cold blue. The Giant walked quicker towards the next red light. Still naked, getting a little uncomfortable. He moved his hands across his body. His balls were cold. He walked on.

Giant Michael stopped jumping and started pulling faces at the mirror. He was tired. He did some ‘bodybuilder’ poses. The mirror was pushed out of the wall in front of him; it had been a door all along. A man stepped through, wearing the same clothes as the man who’d given the Giant his food-card - a green and brown checked shirt, brown corduroy trousers, light brown shoes.
“My name is Denver”, said the man.
“DENVER” said the Giant, “DENVER THE LAST DICKHEAD. DENVER”.
“I understand you don’t know what you’re doing here”. Denver closed the door. He took a pencil and black notepad out of his back pocket. He drew on it and put it away.
“You’ve been in a coma. You fell. No you’re awake, and just as you were before. Are you hungry?” Denver asked.
“COOKING” said the Giant. “COOKING MICHAEL”.
“That’s okay I can bring you something” Denver turned towards the door.
“COOKING” repeated the Giant, this time emphasising the word by slapping his penis.
Denver got the message.

There was a buzzing noise in his head. His hair was almost touching the roof, and occasionally did. Every time he brushed against it the buzzing got louder and more annoying. He slapped himself across the face. No more buzzing noise. Then a pause. Then some buzzing.

“BUZZING!”, he shouted angrily at the mirror, then fake-punched at his reflected face. The noise quickly went away when he realised that jumping up and down a bit made his penis wobble. He was a happy Giant, if only for a moment.

He opened his eyes. They were instantly sore. So was his head. So was his crotch. He got up. There were two doors ahead of him, and before that a desk. A man came through the doorway on the right, sat on the desk and spoke.
“Here’s your key and your food-card. There’s £5 on the card to get you started. Please take the door on the right.”
Giant Michael felt naked. Giant Michael went through the doorway on the right into a room with brown walls and a mirror at the far end. Giant Michael was naked. Straight away he was jealous of snails. Every time you can’t be bothered with someone, he thought, just get inside your shell. Giant Michael would probably spend half his life inside his shell if he had one.