You begin to panic as the weight pressing down on you steadily increases, and begin to flail about as wildly as your restrained body can, your arms barely reaching past Christie's expanding butt. She gets the message quickly enough, and jumps off of you, noticing that you're steadily shrinking for apparently no reason. You roll over in exasperation, and the shrinking stops, a familiar beam shooting out of the couch and now hitting Christie. As she steadily gets smaller, she fishes about between the cushions until she finds the gun, switching it off as she does so.
"It must have fallen down there while we were wrestling," she remarked. You looked up at her eying over the gun, and realized that despite the shrinking of a few moments ago, she still stood at an impressive height of seven feet tall. Even more impressive than before now that you were a shade under three feet. As you sat up on the couch, your feet didn't even reach the edge of the cushion.
"We'd better be more careful with this thing," she said as she set it up on a high shelf, far higher than you could ever hope to reach at your current size. She turns back to you and smiles. "And I'd better be more careful with you." She approaches the sofa and sits down next to you, dwarfing your figure, and places an arm as tall as you around your body. The mood much calmer and more peaceful now, you relax and put your arms around her, though now they only reach about half-way across her waist. You rest your head against her soft, mattress-like side, and the two of you silently enjoy each other's company for a few moments. It's nice.
"Hey," you finally say after maybe fifteen minutes or so, "I'm going to go get a drink. Do you want anything?"
"Nope," she says contentedly, and then a mischievous grin crosses her face.
"Say, how about we try wrestling again? I'll only let you get down if you can break free from me. But to make it fair, I'll only use this one arm," she said, squeezing you tighter to her for emphasis.
"What do you say?"