"Hello everybody!"  On the screen, a young woman in a green two-piece bikini stands with her arms at her sides. Her brown hair is tied up in a bun, and she stands on an empty, black stage. "I am the Danger Magic Girl, but you can call me Jordana!  I am here because I was inspired by another series of videos out there about a magician who performs the most amazing things, and makes the impossible seem real!"

"So, I recruited an assistant," she gestures off to one side where a man walks on, wearing beige pants, a black t-shirt and a simple bandana to cover most of his face. "He is _____, and he has designed the things I will do for you."

"I am also in charge of post processing," he said, his voice disguised in post, "write the script, build the props. You know, everything except go through with them."

"Well, then we're equals in this!" Jordana said with a wink. "What do you have for me today?"

"You gave me a whole list of things," the man said, his disguised voice still somehow carrying the sarcasm. "So, I decided to mix and match a little bit."  He gestured at the curtain behind the two of them, and it opened up. "This is for you."

Jordana looked confused. "Uh... what?" Behind the curtain was a curious box of some sort, with a thin gap out the front. The camera moved with the man's gesture, showing an inward slope along the top, and a small ladder up one side.

"This," he said as he produced some straps from somewhere, offering them to Jordana, "is a trick escape."  He pointed at the strange box-like device. "If you can escape these bonds in time, congratulations. If you don't, well, this will do its deeds."

Taking the straps, Jordana tested them. They seemed rubbery and elastic. "What deeds?"

The man shrugged. "It's a Wringer," he said. "Didn't have much time to put it together, so I did something fairly simple."

"Oh!" Jordana's eye lit up in understanding. "I have to escape before I get flattened, right?"

"Pretty much," the man agreed. "I mean, it won't be that easy, and you won't know how much time you have."

"I can work with that!  So, how do these straps go on?"

With the camera watching, moving around to get the best view, the man helped Jordana into her restraints. First, he bound her ankles and knees together, sliding the rubber hoops up her legs. Then she folded her arms behind her back here he bound her wrists.  The fourth loop went around her stomach, and over her hands, the fifth going just under her shoulders.  He then ran a long rope down through them all, connecting each vertically.

"OK, this is pretty neat," she said as she wiggled around, carefully keeping her balance. "But, I mean, there has to be some trick to this, right?"

The man shrugged. "You ready for the next part?"

"As I'll ever be!"

The man carefully picked Jordana up and climbed the steps to the top of the wringer box. "Just one more thing," he said as he helped her stand on the lip of the gap, the camera looking down into the darkness in front of her toes.

"What is tha..!" Jordana's question was cut short as the man pushed a ball gag into her mouth, propping it open.  She glared at him, but he simply pointed up.

She (and the camera) looked up, where there was a single wire coming down from a winch that was hidden from view before.  The man took the end of the wire, and pushed it deep into the gag. "There," he said as the winch began to retract, lifting Jordana up as soon as it became taut. "Here's the first real trick," he explained as she was lifted up over the box. "Your time to escape is determined by either the wire slipping out of the gag, or you opening your mouth."

Jordana now hung over the wringer box, neck craned to face up as she tried to wiggle her way out of the rubbery bands around her.

"The other trick," he said as he stepped down the ladder, leaving Jordana hanging above. He slapped the side of the box, and it fell open. The insides of the machine looked normal for a wringer, with the tubes and such, but something seemed off. "Is that this isn't a proper wringer."  He pulled a slip of paper out from a pocket and dropped it between Jordana's feet. It vanished into the machine, which quietly whirled for a moment before a cloud a white 'poofed' out of the front slot. "It's a shredder."

Jordana objected, raising her voice as much as she could without letting go of the ball in her mouth as she tried to swing around to get away from the gap below her.  But she simply didn't have the leverage.

"You know," the man said as he circled the shredder at a safe distance, the camera orbiting across from him, "I seriously considered having the winch lower you down slowly.  But I figured that would be a bit too much."  He scratched his chin under the disguise. "Maybe next time?"

The camera watched, impassive.

"For those of you wondering at home," the man said as he stepped around behind Jordana, "the vertical strap is there so that if our Dangerous Magic Girl here does the smart thing and frees her legs first to give her more time before getting caught, they will still drape below here, get caught in the shredder, and make sure she is guided in."

Jordana responded by starting to swing, and the man ducked back. "Hrm," he said. "I didn't think I would have to do this, but oh well."  He weaved under her legs, and carefully grabbed the lip of the shredder's entrance on one side.  He pulled, and it expanded with his three steps. He repeated this process on each side, pulling it open a couple meters in each direction. What had been a slot was now a wide open pit, eager for the woman above it.

"Oh, and that's not the best idea," he informed Jordana. "If you swing too much, the wire will slip free. Friction and inertia and all that."

Jordana tried to give him a glare, but it failed. The camera went down to level with the entrance to the shredder, zooming in as Jordana's toes grazed the line on one of her swings.

She stopped, her momentum arrested as she stiffened like a board. In her throat, a yell as her feet descended into the blackness of the shredder.

It whirled, pulled, and Jordana was pulled free of the wire. The camera and the man stepped back as she slowly sank into the machine, never once coming close to undoing her bonds.  As her legs vanished, the machine began to spit out small flesh-coloured pieces, though thankfully not that far. They started to form a small pile at the base of it.

"Ehh!" Jordana was able to lower her head, though the rest of her body didn't move. She looked down as her knees were devoured, then her eyes opened in shock as she realized what was about to happen.

Unable to do anything, she watched as her legs vanished, and her hips drew ever closer to their doom.

She looked to the man, pleading for help, but he only shook his head. The camera caught it all.

Jordana closed her eyes as her bikini crossed the threshold, and against all odds, it wasn't pulled away. Instead it, like her body, was devoured with the same inexorable pull.  She threw back her head in a closed off scream. In pleasure or pain, the camera couldn't tell.

Then it was gone, her waist the lowest part of her body, and her hands still bound behind her.  She dropped down, just as the camera caught sight of her shredded green bikini being ejected, distinct from the rest of her and the black bands.

The camera watched as her stomach and arms were eaten, then it came to a stop in front of her as her chest approached the terminus line.  Once again, Jordana looked to her helper for help, but was refused. "You wanted danger," he said.

Her breasts touched the line, and instead of being dragged down, they seemed to float up, pushed up as her torso slid down further. She shook her head back and forth as they resisted their own consumption, but even that was not to be as with a small snap, the string breaking at her back, allowing it to be ripped free for the enjoyment of the unseen audience.

But her bikini taunted them be refusing to be torn away, the string around her neck was enough to match the tension as the bottom was pulled under enough to keep her modesty in check as her chest was pulled down and reduced to fine pieces, Jordana's breathless gasps only accentuating the camera's angle as it was raised up to point down at her as her breasts vanished into the machine, followed by her shoulders.

Then it stopped. The machine whirred, spitting out the flesh, green and black as Jordana's head rested above oblivion. "So, Danger Girl," the man said as he leaned over the pit to address her. "Did you enjoy this?"

Her response was muffled.  Though if it was due to the gag, or the lack of lungs was anyone's guess.  She rolled her eyes at him, and with a shrug, the machine activated again.

She vanished, head and hair and gag sucked down and after a moment, reduced to slivers of colour spat out the front.

The man turned off the shredder, and ignored the pile of woman as he closed it up again, folding the top back to its original size, then putting the sides back up.  Once that was done, he then looked down at the shredded Jordana, then up at the camera.  "Oh yeah," he said. "Camera is on a drone," he may have smiled under his feature-distorting mask, reaching up to collect the device. "Now, as for our lovely cam-gal?"  He pointed the camera at her pile. "I was thinking," he put his foot into it, and scattered the pieces around like ashes. "Yeah."

He scattered the pieces further afield, no effort made for order.  "I think I'll leave her like that for a while," he addressed the camera.  "Got to find a vacuum cleaner.  Or a blender.  But ... that's another video."