BUURRRRRP! A most foul wind with a force stronger than a hurricane swept the whole company off their feet. As they rocketed through the cavern, they discovered they were not in a mineshaft after all, but inside of a Big, Fat Esophagus.
Before this could all sink in, they had passed through the Pharynx, the Larynx, and had to duck their heads as they whizzed under the Colossal Uvula and into the cavernous opening of a Big, Fat Mouth.
They saw taste bud hills beneath them, and white-capped, molar mountains further off on either side. Up ahead, blinding daylight shone through a wide opening, which, upon examination, appeared to be shrinking by the second. But at the last moment, as if by some miracle, these five chosen ones were propelled into the free air just before the upper and lower incisors touched.
Beneath them was a new and unseen realm, a vast expanse of possibility. Through the sky they fell, and they fell, and they fell. For two hundred years, they accelerated downward at 9.81 m/s^2.
It dawned upon the Five Falling Miners that they would never again see their old mountain home. So they named themselves “Arlie,” as a tribute to their homeland.
At last, in 2016 Arlie landed in a little town the locals liked to call "The Athens of the South," hitting the ground at a final velocity of 61,875.6 x10^6 m/s, and they disintegrated on impact, right on 12th Avenue S. between Eldey's Barbecue and Montrose Ave, where their remains splattered onto a white brick wall.