You realize you have little choice in the matter. That is, unless you want to remain three inches high for the rest of your life. No, you had better oblige your enormous "playmate", even if you still hold reservations about leading others to whatever cruel kismet Jeannie has in store for them.
"Yeah", your reply is brief.
"Really?", surprise rings is Jeanie's tone, "You're not even going to whine or anything?".
You keep this response short as well, "Nope".
"Alright, then", Jeannie sighs, "Good luck, I guess".
Disappointment written in her face, Jeannie rises to her full height. You are presented with her shifting, curvy jean-clad derriere as she makes her exit. While her hand turns the brass knob of the door, she glances over her shoulder and back at you one last time. The corners of her mouth curl upward, stretching her parting lips. Sparkling white teeth emerge from under their red tarp. She raises a hand level with her face, having her four unified fingers wave cutely. She departs through the now open doorway, pulling the lock between the approaching partition and its destination. With a loud clang the monolith finds its path impeded, leaving the door slightly ajar for your convenience.
“How kind of her”, you sneer sarcastically to yourself.
You decide against scaling down the table due to both the sheer height and bulk of its legs. Rather, you start to sprint toward the ledge of the platform that was facing Jeannie. Once you arrive at the end of your runway, you make a daring leap over the edge of the table. Your fall is broken by the not-as-soft-as-it-looks seat cushion, your body coiled for impact. After a bit of tumbling, your momentum halts. Your body has sustained a few bumps and bruises, but at least you didn’t break anything. You run to the nearest chair leg, and begin your climb to the floor.
The firmness of the padded brown carpet is cushioned little by the rubber soles of your sneakers. Each step shoots discomfort from your feet to your lower back. You soon journey past the gapped doorway and into the thankfully abandoned hallway beyond it. The sound of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata dictates your path. As you round the corner at the end of the hall, an extravagant lobby comes into view. It seems Jeannie was also kind enough to book a room on the first floor.
It seems there are only three people occupying the lavishly expansive room. Sitting on one of the two adjacent love seats is a blond haired woman skimming through today’s newspaper. Her back is to you, so it is hard to get too detailed. A young woman, probably only a few years older than you, appears to be checking out of the hotel. A small lavender bag lay at her ankles, its zipper leaving a small opening at its end. She is arguing quite rudely with the attendant, who appears a tad younger than you, over some trivial matter involving her room’s condition. The attendant’s candor is unusually kind and accommodating as she deals with the unruly guest. You plot your next move while taking all of this in from behind the corner.
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