Jaw on the verge of seizing, Crumpet-Hands Man eventually nibbled himself free from his wall-mounted gum-cocoon. Having emerged like a gooey crumpet-moth, back on his feet, forward on his crumpets, he spotted across the cavern that the villainous Gumma-Mumma was making her escape. Making pursuit, our hero grabbed Detective Pilchard by the ankle and proceeded to drag the perturbed man in chase of the escaping villain. There was not the time to remove the detective's hat and return some much needed awareness to his faculties – our hero reasoned that his partner would still be a trifle peeved over the whole willy-punch-incident-thing from earlier; indeed, even as he was dragged along the sludgy sewage-ways at break-neck speed the detective continued punching up at the air with intent, burping with onion, cursing and cursing the price of a pound of mutton. These enraged and contextless outbursts only grew the more acerbic when our heroes' pursuit of Gumma-Mumma took them down a flight of steel stairs, “But for the–BWARP–but for the–BWARP–but for the price of a pound of–BWARP!–” the resulting, rhythmic expulsions. It was only when Crumpet-Hands Man had the wheezing Gumma-Mumma cornered at the end of a dead end that he thought it proper to stand his partner up and free him from his hat; dazzled by the sudden light, the detective rubbed his ears.
“There is no escape, Gumma-Mumma,” Crumpet-Hands Man informed the trapped and very fat rat of a villain. “From now on the only toilets you'll be blocking will be those in the county jail!”
Dismissing our hero's illogical slight (or illoogical slight...tee hee!) the portly chewer readied another mouthful of oral warfare. “Fools!” she inhaled with a back-of-the-throat snort, puffing out her chest to the point of exploding it. “Damn foolish fools! Do you really think you can defeat me that easily?”
Before Crumpet-Hands Man or Detective Pilchard could puff out their own chests and counter with a resounding “probably,” Gumma-Mumma inhaled to her fullest; but, on the exhale, rather than delivering more clichéd aspersions the villain proceeded to blow from her puckered lips a cute, gleaming, bubble-gum bubble. Crumpet-Hands Man was not impressed.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
“Hah! Do you really think that you can defeat me that easily?” he plagiarised with intentional emphasis, a turn he was most proud of; yet, as Gumma-Mumma's bubble of gum grew ever the larger, the smugness was wiped clean from his face like cack off a coffin. (Again, rather poetic, don't you blah?)
With her glasses steaming up, her cheeks reddening, her chest in-and-outflating like a set of unholy billows, Gumma-Mumma had soon enlarged her gummy bubble to the size of a space hopper. Larger it did grow. Larger still! Crumpet-Hands Man and Detective Pilchard watched on with awe and disgust (mainly disgust) as the wibbling spittle-dripping sphere eclipsed its dastardly inflater; when the cusp of the gummy ball reached their feet our duo were forced to step back; when it reached twice their height they became somewhat worried; and when the enormous Hindenburg-esq balloon began breaking through the sewer's ceiling, bringing down a deluge of plaster and brick, our heroes thought it wise to make for the surface before they were buried alive under a deluge of mortar and mouth-candy. Up many a flight of stairs, ladders, and along many an unlit pipeline our heroes did scamper, the very ground at their feet trembling as though in the throws of an earthquake. Soon the very ground at their very hips, elbows, bot-bots and heads came very apart, steam and waste-water venting from the ruptured pipes like a great squabbling of diuretic snakes. By the time Crumpet-Hands Man and Detective Pilchard had escaped up onto street level they were literally gasping for air. (And both sides of a screaming wet wipe.)
That was when it made itself known...
As though emitted from the devil himself, a seismic, monstrous cackling boomed from beneath our heroes' feet. Our heroes recoiled when the tip of a clawing fingernail the size of a digger's bucket burst from the paving, followed by an arm as long and gooey as a freight train of taffy. That which proceeded to climb from the earth, to tower above our cowering heroes, was a creature of the most unseemly, gigantic, terrible; a Godzilla of Gum, a Kong of Gozz, a Kracken of Stickum; a hulking, drooling, lurching– Nay! Words could not do it justice, dear reader. Not even our (kinda) poetic hero could have described such as beastly beast!
Besides, when one is confronted by a gigantic bubble-gum-monster the size of a cathedral, one does not pause to ponder how best to describe it; one only gathers up their cape, burps, and runs for their crumpety life!
