The sun was setting as Gullet took Tim off the hummock onto a narrow pebbled path that led through the Bog of Sluggery.
“We should get to the Toll Man just about midnight” Gullet told Tim. “Until then if we stay on the path we should be safe from the more ambitious predators.” Gullet did not sound too sure of himself.
“Who is the Toll Man?” asked Tim.
“Oh, he is the only one who can let us out onto a civilized road from the Bog” said Gullet. “Without his help we’ll be going in circles and sink into the murky mud before you can whistle up a shoelace.”
They hurried along the path as it grew dimmer and dimmer. Up ahead a herd of loggerheads slowly butted each other in the head, blocking the way.
“Fidgey widkins!” cried Gullet in dismay. “They’ll be at that for hours. We’ll have to take our chances and detour around them.”
Looking apprehensive and seeming to shrink even smaller than he was, Gullet delicately stepped off the path, motioning Tim to follow him. They tiptoed through some sandpaper grass and nearly fell into a schmoozle hole. They could hear the schmoozle breathing stentoriously at the inky bottom of it. Then a triggernoma tree made a grab for them with its waving branches covered with sticky sap. It snatched Tim’s green felt hat right off his head. Tim decided he wouldn’t fight the tree for it, and they kept going around the loggerheads -- who could be heard bellowing in the thickening darkness.
Slabber bats flew overhead, cheeping irritably while they looked for their first hors d'oeuvre of the night.
“Look out!” cried Tim, but it was too late. Something white and steaming rose up from the quivering ground to engulf Gullet like a giant overly affectionate marshmallow.
“Glurg!” hollered Gullet. “Don’t stop -- run! It’s an albino bumperstucker! There’s no escape -- I’m a goner . . . “
Tim stood rooted to the spot in terror, but then his new-found hero heart started beating like a military drum. Marching up to the white bumperstucker, Tim gave it a kick. Which did absolutely no good. In fact, it nearly caused Tim to be sucked in along with Gullet. Backing up a few paces Tim nervously ran his hands up and down his coat, desperately trying to think of some way to save Gullet.
“The lumdiddle flasks!” he said to himself. “I wonder if they’re any good in a situation like this?”
No sooner said than done -- Tim took out a flask, uncorked it, and threw it at the bumperstucker as it began to sink back into the ground with Gullet still feebly struggling inside it. The flask stuck to the bumperstucker upside down. The pimento wine came dribbling out, as did the lumdiddle -- which immediately began boring its way inside the white monster.
Gurgling and murgling, as if it were being tickled, the albino bumperstucker split wide apart like a milkweed pod and Gullet came scrambling out. Covered in white goo, he scrambled away from the shaking white blob, which, indeed, was being tickled to death by the now wide awake lumdiddle. The two creatures sank together into the ground, to battle things out, no doubt, to the bitter end.
“You saved me!” gasped Gullet. “Why would you do that, when I wanted to eat you?”
“I need you to guide me out of here” Tim said simply. “And something has gotten into my heart that won’t let me run away anymore” he thought silently to himself.
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SPONSORED CONTENT.
PETM (People for the Ethical Treatment of Monsters) doesn’t believe a good story needs to show any violence towards those misunderstood creatures that are sometimes labeled as ‘monsters.’ In the above scene, it is hinted that the lumdiddle is cruelly boring a hole into the albino bumperstucker -- and that they will both perish in great pain. An alternative scenario could have shown the bumperstucker rising up from the wet ground to greet the protagonists and offer to protect them from any further danger -- all in the name of Being Helpful. This would show the albino bumperstucker in a better light, and spare the tender feelings of anyone reading this story who might feel sorry for the bumperstucker when it is tortured by the lumdiddle. We would ask that as you continue to read this story you ask yourself: Is This Monster’s Demise Really Necessary?” And if you feel it is not, please stop reading this story and boycott any further stories by this author until he can earn the MAPT (Monsters Are People Too) Seal of Approval from us. Thank you.
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