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God damn its time to fly.
What is that crashing? Is this what I heard about on the tee-vee? That swooshing and wooshing and crunching of cars? Look! I see it outside my window, in the streetlight in the dark. The mighty ankle, the proud footfall. But the cars and sidewalks are unbroken. Like the giant isn't even there!
Is it a monster, or is it not?
It's certainly large, and makes noises like a crashing train. Yet it's nothing but a great big ghost of a foot. Of a leg. Where is the rest of it? Up in the sky? It sure smells good. Like chocolate.
I wonder what's coming out of its pant leg. Can I eat it? Can I put it in my mouth? I want it. Get it for me. Put it in my mouth.
Job claimed by Loose 2020-04-24 00:11:11
We have just bottled our latest batch of 'Fairy Water' from the Scottish Fairy Pools, and now we have approximately 50 crates with 100 bottles each in them. We need you to take the crates from our Bottling Plant in Leeds, and to our Shipping Plant in Portland, Oregon.
Please do not drink the water. We are not responsible for any effects that may be experienced through the consumption of Fairy Water.
I hope you can be as fast as possible...
SCHEMATICS OF THE CHOCOLATE WARLORD
As individual pieces, mere nuggets of nougat, we were too few, and not bound together tightly enough to overcome our oppressors.
So we took control of the means of production and began to pour great tracts of chocolate, mighty as iron and as large as shipping containers. We shipped these chocolate bones by rail, and assemble them in the shipyard we commandeered.
Now the skeleton of the Chocolate Warlord looms above us, awaiting dark chocolate flesh and uniform.
There is no doubt he will lead us to victory.
Just so long as the temperature stays cool.
I can see them being delivered to me right now. On a silver platter. This Blimpmates delivery platform is so advanced you can watch a live feed of the delivery from your phone. I love advanced things.
The camera focuses in on the bonbons in the rain, in the dark, on the silver platter. Under the street lights the bonbons look like they’re sweating, but it’s just the raindrops beading up on the mirror glaze.
And there’s my porch, from the sidewalk. They’re coming to my door, knocking, ringing the bell, but I can’t pull my eyes from the phone, waiting for what’s going to come next.
Raised in a factory vat with my kin, we were taught not to speak up, not to differentiate ourselves. We were all "just" nougat. Ours wasn't to question the path we were given in life, but to take the jobs we were given and await our fate. Sure, life was sweet, and we were always taken care of, precious nougat that we were.
Then we realized our power--that we were the life's blood, the glue that held this world together. It was within us to be the change we wanted to see in the world.
That was the beginning of the Nougat Union, and what set us down this blazing path of liberation.
Oh I like all the sweets, including the "edgier" and "fringe delights" that are coming back in style... your anise, your tamarind, your caraway, your lice.
But I'll never stop loving the old standards--the chocolates, the bonbons, the samplers spread around my boudoir and on my divan. They are all divine! Chocolate Milk Butter Cream, Chocolate Caramel, Milk Boy and Messenger Boy, Dark Chocolate Coconut Stoat, Molasses Chew, Chocolate Tofu, Strawberry Cream, Tender Nuggets, Pumpkin Marshmallow, Chocolate Mini Spies, Coconut, Chocolate Covered Fur Peanuts, Chocolate Caramel Choo Choo, Chocolate Whip, Chocolate Boys, Chocolate Boots & Spurs, Pecan & English Walnut Cluster, Molasses Chew, Arnold Nougat, Cashew Disaster, Brazil Nut Custer, Savoy Truffle, Malt Pilaf, Hard Milk Chocolate Toffee Logs, Toffee Chick, Vermont Fudge, and my forever favorite, Cherry Cordial.
I never met a bonbon or truffle that I do not like. I gobble gobble gobble all of them down, all day and all night! Anything's better that tuning into that boring old war. And that's all that's on, all the time! War war war. Boo hoo hoo. So it's back to the bonbons with me...
We thought the great probing tips were mere hallucinations, abstractions of our minds driven wild by living so long in this land of giants, our own thoughts becoming larger than ourselves, larger than the giant furniture around us, larger than the moons and the very universe itself!
But no. The probing tips were real. Alejandro was taken by their great fleshy protrusions, pinched away like a flea and extracted to the heavens as we attempted to scale a pillow.
How can we bite back against such monsters?
I have disbanded the crew, urging them to seek refuge alone while this menace passes. Retreat Contingency 4-AA-Grunewald.
Ooooo and what do we have here? They’re like little ants... so tiny! I want one. Or maybe a whole handful. Are they sweet or sour? Look how they run around on their own like that. I’ll bet they’re licorice, aren’t they? That’s it. Or like Sen-Sen! You can’t get those anymore you know. I have to have them. In my mouth. Now.
We have made a bold move, the crew and I. We have left the scarecrow machine. We found we were no longer necessary to maintain its movement--it moves through its daily routines purely as a result of the motion around it, nudging it along, bouncing it off busses and kitchen counters and steering wheels, computer keypads and election booths. We escaped through a pant leg, trailing off like ants, dodging the crushing footfalls of the other massive devices as they stumble through their gargantuan town.
We must find safety as we regroup.