Edging around the giant shoe, you resume your headlong dash for the bag-pile. There should be nothing else to impede you now, and victory is but a few moments away -!
Then the titanic doors at the end of the hall - in front of you and adjacent to the bags - burst open, ushering in a chill breeze that almost knocks you from your feet. It seems that the exam has one late entrant.
"Oh my God, I'm sorry for being late!" she stammers in the heavens, and other giant voices combine to tell her to shush. It's like a raging storm down at ground level.
It seems as if the cause for her lateness may have been her falling asleep while sunbathing in the balmy Summer weather; her skin - covered only by a shawl that she has thrown over her bikini - is a vibrant orange. Her tremendous flip-flops finally come to a crashing halt directly in front of you.
As if that weren't bad enough, the invigilator that you narrowly dodged earlier begins walking down the aisle towards her, no doubt intent upon reprmanding her and telling her the correct procedure for late attendance.
You could scurry for the bags, but with the two giants so positioned one of them is sure to spot you. Instead, you could take shelter near the girl's feet until the storm has passed.
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