Renata felt her stomach turn sickeningly, like a sentient undercooked pancake stuck inside a leaky plastic ball in the middle of a hurricane. She felt the overwhelming burden of control fall heavily onto her shoulders, like an elephant dropped from a tall building onto a homing pigeon. She felt her throat constrict, but that wasn’t actually nervousness, it was phlegm.

I really love writing humor fic. This is from an RML story I’m working on. ::cackles:: I think I got my vivid use of metaphor from reading too much Douglas Adams.