Ding! The microwave goes off, and 30 seconds later you're back from the kitchen with a fresh batch of popcorn. You lean out the window, transformation gun by your side, ready to watch the show as this terrified and scorching hot coed giantess does her level best to fend off TV reporters with no sense of personal space without violating any rules created for people about a twentieth of her size.
And she's doing a good job of it, at least at first. She eventually realizes if she starts moving around, the cameramen, whose survival instinct is the only thing stronger than their lust for a story, will back off without much of a fight. It's not so easy to do this in a skirt without giving them an even better story than they expected, but she's managing to wave her arms around enough to keep them from crawling all over her, even if she does feel a bit stupid doing it. She is still trying to use reason and common sense, but a booming "PLEASE STOP FILMING ME" seems not to tug at their heartstrings.
Fortunately, a crowd's gathering round, and that's when things start to heat up. A group of this girl's friends, about five in number, come out of the woodwork to start defending her. Within seconds, they're scurrying around her feet and beneath her knees, running around her back and going every which way to keep the media off their giantess friend. At first it doesn't really work, but some more of the crowd awakens their inner activist, and soon the cameramen no longer have the advantage. Of course, the giantess could stomp out anyone she wanted to, but she doesn't seem the type.
Soon enough, there's an equilibrium around the giantess, still sitting in the field by your dorm with her arms wrapped around her knees. She's still more terrified than anything, but her friends down below are willing to stand up for her. The cameramen are backing off, but more cars are arriving every minute. This situation is going to blow up very soon.
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