Eventually the rumbling walk subsides, and you right yourself just in time to see immense fingers - each with a different colour nail polish - part the sky.
Soon a face dominates the opening of the bag, the face of the teenage girl to whom it belongs. She has clearly applied too much eyeliner you notice as one of her hands swoops back to brush a strand of multi-coloured hair away, and the lips - between which are rather scary-looking teeth - are contrasting shades of purple.
The eyes dart around, searching through the confines of your dark prison for something, and you must decide on whether you want her to spot you.
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