Melody Hollander was falling to the ground when the world disappeared. She's still falling when it comes back. She opens her eyes not to blood in her hair, but to bits of dirt in her palms and a scrape on her elbow, and not to a lonely gunshot but to people, lots of people, screaming in a high-pitched voice. She can hear rebar being ripped and concrete and cobblestones crashing against each other, glass breaking, gutters being ripped from roofs, all in micro-size.

Something smacks into her ass, and she's about to whip around and give someone a what's what about sexually harassing young disoriented women on the sidewalk when she looks over her shoulder and realizes that it's a tiny person, and any spankage was purely accidental, as they've clearly just pulled a completely unintentional Wiley Coyote into her backside.

"Sorry!" she says, because what else are you going to say to a person the size of a Scottish terrier who's just played Red Rover with your rump? "Are you o-!"

It's about that point that she connects the fact that people are screaming and running around with the fact that there's a big red slimy monster wrecking the shit out of their miniature town. If she feels like Attack of the Fifty Foot Woman, this guy must feel like Godzilla. Mellie gets to her feet, grabbing a brownie out of the way of a falling piece of rubble.

And to think. Thirty seconds ago she didn't want to have crazy ninja skills.