You get to your feet, looking all about you. You feel like you're in some prehistoric jungle. It's hot, humid, and the ground beneath you is muddy. Long green stems arise from the mud on all sides, looming over the three of you like ants. You know what they are by looking at them: grassblades. Not far from you is the crystal, now a towering red obelisk in the midst of this oversized jungle. "This is bad," you state.
Jake and Eric don't have any inclination to disagree. The three of you huddle back to back, looking at these threatening surroundings with both awe and fear. Suddenly Jake turns: "We have to get big again. The red crystal there did this to us... maybe it can turn us back." Eric nods, and the three of you sprint toward the red crystal. You grab hold of the side and look up. It must be two or three times as tall as you. You try banging on it with your fists. "Nothing's happening," you say. Suddenly you hear a loud, wet, squishing noise in the distance, as though something large just landed in the muddy ground a hundred meters away. Then, as you hear another, everything becomes dark. You look up to the sky in dread. Looming over you like some kind of colossus is a giant kid: Mike. Mike is your next door neighbor, an annoying jerk around your age, maybe a year younger. You've wanted to pound him for years... but suddenly that idea seems unwise. Mike is staring down at your location, looking at the ground quizzically. Without any hesitation, Eric shouts "RUN!" and he dashes off into the blades. You watch him bound off, noticing that he is disrupting the grass blades as he dashes through them. You look up again at Mike... who has apparently noticed the disturbance in the grass. He leans over and plunges his hand down into the grass in the direction that Eric has run off in. He fumbles around for a second and triumphantly raises his hand into the air. In the distance, you see Eric flying in his grip, kicking and screaming and looking like some little speck in the air that Mike has nabbed. Mike rises to his full height and grins at Eric: "Man... youre puny," he jeers. You watch him quickly pocket Eric and examine the ground again, realizing that you and Jake must be here as well. The two of you split up and run in opposite directions. You keep running... and running... and running. Then you hear a "GOTCHA!" in the distance, realizing that Jake has just been caught. You heave and heave, running as fast as you can go. You see that your porch is not too far away, over the distant grassblades.
You pick up your pace... and suddenly feel a great pressure land across your back. You are pushed with an unstoppable force face flat to the muddy ground by something huge. You feel like your body is in a vice. Everything is dark and silent and you struggle to breathe. You realize what has just happened: you've just been stepped on by Mike. Then, suddenly, you are pulled into the air with tremendous force, high, high up into the air. You look to either side of you and see huge pieces of mud falling to the floor from the rubber tread around you. Suddenly you are lunged forward and Mike takes his next step. You stay as still as possible, praying that you don't fall off to your doom. Finally his foot comes crashing down into the mud again and you are plunged into darkness once more. When his foot lifts, you are quite nicely wedged inside the treads of his mud-caked sneaker. Feeling a little more safe, you simply lie still and wait. Eventually you are enveloped by so much mud that you can no longer see outside. The ordeal is less traumatic now. After a minute or two of listening to the muffled sounds of Mike's footfalls, no longer having any idea where he is headed, you suddenly are loosened from this entrenchment of mud as a thud takes place. You bring your arms to your face and quickly start digging away at the mud around your head, then down at your legs. You see in front of you a hardwood floor. Clearly you are inside of a room of some sort... probably Mike's room. You don't see Mike, though. Apparently he dropped his two muddy sneakers onto the floor and went elsewhere. Having no interest in remaining for another ride on the bottom of the Mike's feet, you jump down from the treads and distance yourself from them. Lying on its side, the sneaker is several times your height and it extends dozens of meters in either direction. Caked along its treads is a huge muddy mess, filled with giant grass blades and vicious looking insects that Mike mindlessly flattened on his way through the grassy jungle. You aren't sure where to go. In all directions, everything just appears like some giant colored blur to you. You walk around the giant sneaker and hoping that maybe Jake, perhaps having been stepped on as well, is nearby. You reach the opening of Mike's sneaker, retch at the mild odor emanating from inside, and give up. You're going to have to simply venture in one direction or wait here.
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