212. Mystery in Space
Amy indulges her natural affinity for the low brass section of the orchestra, cultivated during a brief stint playing the baritone in middle school, and dives head-first into the tuba. She tries as hard as she can to wiggle in and squeeze her curled legs into the bell of the instrument. In a few seconds she has wedged herself securely inside, her body rolled up into a tight ball.
Amy hears the glass shards plinking onto the ground in a shower all around her, wincing in anticipation of some painful cuts. When none come, she gets a self-satisfied grin and begins the process of removing herself from the tuba. Her satisfaction is short-lived as she soon discovers that she was so successful at wedging herself into the tuba she can't move her arms to pull herself out. Her initial furtive efforts to move herself soon turn into frantic wiggling as Amy begins to panic.
Amy's terror only grows as she feels the tuba being picked up and realigned. She then feels a building pressure on her head and shoulders. She realizes that someone is blowing into the tuba and once the air pressure builds high enough she will be shot out like a cork from a pop gun. Amy closes her eyes and utters a silent prayer, then,
BWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMFFFFFF!!!
Amy finds herself flying through the air, out the skylight, over the mansion, beyond the forest, and up, up, away into the lower atmosphere. She takes a moment to admire the view and marvel at the astounding force required to propel her so high, before her thoughts become otherwise occupied by the friction of the air resistance that is rapidly burning her to a cinder. Within seconds, all that remains of Amy are her apparently flame-retardant heart-print panties wrapped around a lump of charcoal.
Amy does go on to cause a great deal of curiosity and idle speculation among a number of scientists at NASA as they debate how it is that a pair of women's underpants managed to find itself in geosynchronous orbit.
Amy is in no position to continue this adventure or her life.