In response to Colleen's nod, you smile. "Let's get to your bike, then!" you shout, and the girl takes off running.
Her thundering footsteps judder you even in her solid grip, and you once again curse your luck to have ended up in the hands of a girl! How much more desirable to be at the mercy of a giant woman, like Miss Hensley! Even in your international espionage profession, travelling the world and meeting all sorts of females, that is one exploit you have yet to experience!
Well, Colleen's mother will be grateful when she meets you. She won't be the first partner of an evil mastermind you've seduced, either! Perhaps there will be an upside to this mild inconvenience yet!
As you look up at Colleen's face, or the underside of it at least, you have to reconsider that optimism. Now, what are you to people but a tiny creature, a thing, just an object to be picked up and carried? Was Hensley really flirting with you earlier, or just straight-up making fun of you being so small? Is this some sort of karmic punishment for treating women as objects in your conquests, to become little better to them yourself?
Your soul-searching is cut short as you are released from the powerful, sweaty grip of the child, and tumble down to land with a painful thud. Gasping at your potential injury, you get to your feet to find yourself in a pit, with a pink plastic floor and walls higher than your extended arms. There's no sign of Colleen, and for a few seconds you fear you've been betrayed, and dropped into a prison. You scan around for any weak point, any spot you can use to try and escape, while shouting out to the girl.
Eventually her gigantic face appears, throwing you into shade as she looks down. "Sorry, I just had to get my boots on," she says, annoyed.
"Where am I?" you ask.
"You're in the basket at the front of my bike, duh," she replies, turning away.
"Hey! It's pretty hard down here - I'll get bashed around a lot while you cycle! I need something soft to rest on!"
Colleen turns back long enough to roll her eyes at you before stomping out of sight again. It is her arm that returns a little later, before her fingers splay and she drops something into you, knocking you down again. It's heavy, and as you claw it off your face, you think it's some form of blanket, only monstrously rough and thick. It stinks of machine oil as well, and you gag.
"What is this?" you demand.
"All I could find," she replies, and the ground shakes as she no doubt rights the bike and takes her seat. Her face intrudes from the opposite direction to last time, supporting your theory. "Now, are you going to complain all the way, or are you going to help me find my mother?"
Grumbling quietly, you lay the old garage rag out to rest upon, and throw the girl a quick thumbs-up. You do have to keep on her good side. Colleen nods back, and then drops the pistol into the basket beside you.
The giant gun slams down with a thunderous impact, a terrifying weapon of destruction, a clear indicator of how outclassed you are by everything in the world now. Unable to take your eyes from the pistol, you shout up to Colleen even as she begins peddling, asking where her mother is.
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