You leap onto the hand and ride that thing like a bucking bronco. Careening round the room you whoop and holler with delight as the hand leaps to and fro trying to dislodge you.
Suddenly, the hand makes a huge lunge to the left, throwing you off balance and head-first into the marshmallow wall.
You are stuck.
Dangling by the head.
Things do not look good.
The hand is angry.