Yeah, climb up Jane's leg. Piece of cake. No problemo.
You approach the foot gingerly. Sole uppermost as it is, you can truly appreciate what abuse it must go through every day just walking. Miniscule pieces of junk - unnoticeable to the regularly-sized human eye - are embedded in it here and there, and you'd hate to think what you'd look like were you to end up under it...
Still, you scarper up the underside of the toes with nothing going wrong. Only then does the incredible stench of the sole hit you. Sweat, mainly, but to a man of your proportions it is so much worse than anything you ever imagined.
You are gagging as you ascend the sole, towards the mighty heel plateau so far above. The warm, musky darkness around you is starting to spin, and you're not sure if you can complete this journy before you pass out...
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