The floor would suddenly be pitched at a perilous angle and I would tumble against the side of the measuring cup. I would be fighting for balance, one foot on the measuring cup.. one on the “floor” .. and just when my feet would find true purchase.. everything would tilt in a different direction..
I would be nauseous from the spin of the world around me (assuming the measuring cup is clear). Colors would be blurred and shapes indefinable. It would feel as if my heart were trying to escape through the top of my skull.
At long last I would be placed onto the backseat of the car (which would likely smell of fast food and cigarettes) .. finally able to ponder my situation from this new firm foundation beneath me.. when we hit a pothole in the road and my make shift prison and me go tumbling to the floor boards and I escape under the drivers seat.. hiding in some upholstered crevice.