A small crowd of people with pens look to see if she is going to start working on her project?
"Three days now...not a peep."
"Still no Simpson...he better climb down that tower. Probably has some new puff suit and will just try to slide down. Prolly rolling across the froxen plaines with a velocity he would not have imagined. Nor how the wind would roll him along in his puff suit like a tumble weed snow ball. Like a snow ball he does collect snow until its a freexing shell all around him but the ball will jump up on some ramp like surface and collide down in a series of bounces that breaks away the material. By the third day of not being able to stop he is in pretty bad shape not having packed food and water for the trip down the frozen Ice Tower."
"Poor Juan. Fried to a crisp by the strange longitudinal pulse wave that turned him into a burnt jelly blob scar tissue invalid."
"And this strangely static image of this woman in latex with a whip...hmmm. And I only just now realized that she is wearing the red nun outfit. Tight latex that strains to hold in her amble bosom."