Where’s an enchanted Zoltar machine when you need one, hunh? I want to be small! And not just, like, heroin-chic small. I mean small. I’m talking three apples high. I want to sleep in a cigar box. I want to be itty-bitty, teeny-weeny, eensy-weensy small. As in: We are the Littles, boom-cha-cha-boom-cha-cha.

Why? Well, for a lot of reasons. First, I’d save a fortune on food, shelter and clothing. Second, there’s my lifelong macrophilia, which stemmed from watching Attack of the 50 Foot Woman when I was eleven. But most importantly, I’ve got my eye on Nikko’s remote-control Toyota Supra and Nissan Silvia from The Fast and the Furious.

Imagine it! I’d be hitting the turbo boost for extra speed, sliding through the corners on the special bonus drifting tires, and pulling 1/10 scale versions of Eva Mendes and Devon Aoki in every tiny city I visit.

To paraphrase Han from The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift (as memorably portrayed by Sung Kang): I have money. What I need around me is a miniature version of the Toyota Supra or Nissan Silvia. And one car in exchange for twenny-five bucks is a price I can live with.

Alas, scientists are still decades away from perfecting human shrinkage. Stupid scientists! Speed it up, come ON! But in the meantime, I can still drive these hot rods around the church parking lot behind my house. And after all, even if I was a tenth my current size, the controllers for these cars aren’t. Someone else would have to drive. And while the details on these cars are pretty great (they even have working headlights), the interiors are not really designed for passenger comfort. I mean, tiny me doesn’t need rich Corinthian leather in there—but there aren’t even seats.

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