She didn’t wake up from a deep sleep; she just stopped paying attention for a little while. When she regained attention, she was in a rectangular pit. Above, she could see a blue sky with huge lumpy clouds. The walls, the floor, the entire thing looked to be made out of stucco, and it was about fifty feet deep. It was cool and comfortable, but despite this, she wanted dearly to get out, seeing no food or other such allocations necessary for routine biological functions. There was, though, a giant pile of nails in one corner, and in another corner, a hammer.
The hammer was of the sledge variety, much heavier than the frail job it looked like it needed to carry out. The pile of nails was, she estimated, ten feet high, and came about five feet from the wall. She picked one up, and it was very thick and heavy for its size. She began to understand why a sledgehammer was furnished. The nails were about fifteen or sixteen inches long, she approximated. After the tedious measurements, she decided that she knew what to do to escape from the hole.
The first nail she drove into the stucco wall, which cracked and disintegrate a little at the trauma. It was in pretty far, far enough to hold her weight, she found once she tested it. She, with great care, balanced herself on the nail, holding a heavy hammer and another heavy nail in each hand, and drove another into the stucco wall. Again, it crumbled, but not enough to loosen the nail. She jumped down, got another nail, and drove it into the wall a few feet, at the same altitude from the last one, so she could use both feel when she was higher up.
This ritual was carried on for hours, until finally, she had to sleep. She climbed down cautiously, having made about 20 feet’s progress. She fell asleep. When she woke up, she had a strange rash on her hands, and her hair was falling out, and her skin was melting off. There was a sign on her chest that said, “They’re made out of uranium!”