An extreme low-angle wide shot from ground level in a lush front yard on a bright sunny morning. In the midground, Gorillionaire stands bug-sized at the base of a colossal grass blade, his white linen suit still immaculate, one robotic hand gripping his diamond-topped cane, his monocle catching the light as he looks upward in stunned composure. Beside him, Estephen's neon scales blaze electric cyan, his daisy dukes and cowboy boots tiny against the enormous ground, yellow eyes spinning in opposite directions. In the foreground, a silver gadget buzzes in the dirt among pebbles the size of boulders. The background stretches into a towering jungle of green grass blades backlit by warm golden morning sun. Dominant palette: bright greens, warm gold, deep shadow at ground level. A tiny garden snail in the far background appears to be wearing a miniature bow tie.

Gorillionaire and the Incredible Shrinking Yard

One second you are standing in the front yard, and the next second the grass is taller than a skyscraper. You blink. The dandelion next to you is approximately the size of a school bus. A single ant one ant trundles past and it is the size of a golden retriever. You look down at your robotic hands. They are the same size as always. Everything ELSE has gotten enormous. Estephen's neon scales flash full panic-cyan. He points one clawed finger at a small silver gadget buzzing in the dirt behind you. "Okay, so I think that's the thing that did it," he says. The gadget is your own invention. The Atmospheric Molecular Compressor, Mark II. You brought it outside to test it on a leaf. You were not supposed to be standing next to the leaf. A beetle the size of a school bus rumbles by, shaking the ground like a slow earthquake. You adjust your monocle. "Quite," you say.