"So, Mrs. Miller, shall I plug this in and show you what it can do?"

Your name is Mike Stewart, and it's been a long day. The last thing you want to be doing is showcasing the Electrovac 2000 for the fourteenth time today. But it's a living, and if you're ever going to convince Margaret Stoneking to marry you, you're going to need all the money you can get.

At least the view is good, you think, as you eyeball the lady of the house. Though she's in her mid-thirties or so--a good fifteen years older than you, for sure--she's radiant in her housedress. She's held up well over the years, that's for sure. Hopefully Margaret will look as good in 1977.

Heck, hopefully you'll still know Margaret in 1977. That's fifteen years off.

Anyhow, as these thoughts cross your mind, Mrs. Miller says, "Sure, go ahead and plug it in--I suppose it wouldn't hurt. Can you--"

Suddenly, the phone rings. "Oh, shoot. Let me get that, it's probably my husband."

"No problem, ma'am, I'll get set up while you're on the call."

As she leaves the room, you can't help admiring the way her bottom swishes her skirt.

You shake your head, and move to the wall. You reach down, and plug in the vacuum....

All of a sudden, a huge shock runs through your arm. You and the vacuum are thrown back hard, and you fall to the floor. You feel like you've been stuffed in a box and shook about.

"Ouch!" you say, sitting up. It's then you gasp.

You appear to be in a field of orange plants, each one chest-high. The vacuum lays beside you, burnt to a crisp, its high-tech plastic coverlet melted black.

"What the heck--" you say, when suddenly a series of rhythmic earthquakes sends you falling backward again.

"IT WAS MY HUSBAND--WHERE'D YOU GO?" a voice booms from the heavens. You stare up, and scream as you see what is making the sound.

It's Mrs. Miller, only she's big. Beyond big. She's enormous. Titanic. The size of a mountain. Over a quarter-mile tall.

"Mrs. Miller! Down here! Look down, I'm--" you shout, but she doesn't hear you. Instead, she takes a few steps forward. You watch as her enormous blue pumps get nearer, and nearer....

You suddenly scream and start running as she gets closer. You can't believe it, she's heading right for you. Finally, she steps down right behind you, and the air blasts you forward onto your stomach. This is it, you think.

But then, mercifully, she stops, and looks around. You roll over as she says, "HE MUST HAVE LEFT. THAT'S ODD. OH WELL, I GUESS I'D BETTER GET DINNER AROUND. KIDS WILL BE HOME SOON."

As she starts to turn, you realize your predicament. She's enormous, but you're going to have to get someone's attention. And she's the nearest someone.

Then again, it's a long climb. Maybe you should look for another option. You've got a couple ideas already.