"What the hell," you say as you boldly walk towards the kangaroo. "I don't think it will work, but I might as well give it a shot."
"That's the spirit, " says the kangaroo merrily as she holds open her pouch again. "You never know if you don't try, nothing ventured, nothing gained, and all that rot..."
You stare into the pouch. It looks very small ... too small. You aren't sure how you are supposed to get in.
"So how do I..." you begin.
"Just put one foot in at a time. Gently please, " says the kangaroo.
You lift your right foot and slide it into the opening. You expect it to be slimy or wet. But it is surprisingly sleek, like the belly of a dog or the skin of a pig. It is a tight fit but you can freely move your foot. You don't feel any obstruction. You don't know what to do next and hesitate, with one foot inside and one foot outside the pouch.
The kangaroo gets impatient.
"Now the next one. Here, I'll help, " says the kangaroo as she lifts you up with surprising strength. Your left foot dangles over the opening of the pouch. After a little maneuvering, you slide it into the pouch, joining its partner already inside.
With both feet inside, the rest of your body smoothly and easily slides into the pouch. The pouch is snug, but not unbearably tight. The feeling of the soft, velvety skin against your own bare skin is oddly soothing. And the pouch is pleasantly warm inside. But you don't feel comfortable letting your whole body slip into the pouch. You place your hands on the edge of it, holding your head up and out of the pouch. You feel a bit silly and hope no one sees you like this. You plan to ask the kangaroo to stop and let you out before you enter the village.
"Ready?" asks the kangaroo.
"You sure you can hop around with me in here?" you ask.
The kangaroo chuckles.
"It won't be a problem. Trust me," says the kangaroo, as she leans down and flexes her powerful muscular thighs.
Then with a hop she is off.
The kangaroo is moving very quickly now. The distance between her hops is even further than before. Apparently you really were holding her back. She shows no sign of tiring or being hindered by your presence at all. The ride is a little rough. You find it hard to keep from losing your grip and sliding further into the pouch. One particular hop sends you tumbling all the way down inside.
Inside the pouch it is a little dark, lit only by the narrow opening above your head. You try to pull yourself back out of the pouch, but find it very difficult. The skin is smooth and offers almost nothing to grasp for leverage. Your hand brushes against a small nub, little bigger than a finger. You inadvertently squeeze it, squirting a small amount of milk onto your face. You sputter, trying to spit out the milk and get the taste of it out of your mouth.
"Oh, sorry about that. I haven't weaned Joey yet so I am still a bit leaky. But if you are thirsty, feel free to help yourself to a drink. I don't mind, " says the kangaroo.
"No thanks, " you say quickly, barely trying to hide your disgust. The milk has left a terrible aftertaste in your mouth that you can't seem to erase.
You pinch the skin inside the pouch and pull your head back out. The kangaroo is really moving quickly now and the bouncing seems worse. You find yourself constantly fighting to keep from slipping back inside and occasionally pulling yourself back out. Eventually, you give up and just rest inside. You no longer feel claustrophobic. In fact, it feels a bit cozy. And the ride doesn't seem as bumpy when you are in the pouch. It is almost like a gentle rocking. The soothing motion and pleasant warmth of the pouch make you feel sleepy.
Soon, you find yourself drifting off to sleep inside the pouch.