Billy Cranston (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
morphitudinous) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
boxofhorrors2011-07-27 03:25 pm
morphitudinous) wrote in boxofhorrors2011-07-27 03:25 pm
Entry tags:
The Sticky Situation
The situation was an entirely uncontrollable and all-encompassing mess.
Not only was the location itself a mess, but so were the individuals swept up in such messiness. Not a single dry, clean, or intact object was in sight. A bright ruby red sludge coated the entire area, so thick that it obscured whatever this location used to be. For now, it was most definitely similar to the inside of an expired raspberry gelatin dessert.
As these stories often go, the beings coming to consciousness in the midst of all this mess would not remember exactly how they had traveled from the Point A of their own lives to the Point B of this disaster zone, but they would be surrounded by slight reminders. Everyone had a mishmash of items that had been on or near their person at the time---had someone been repairing a car?
A tire ringed the poor woman's head, caught unaware by the sudden digestion and regurgitation as much as anyone else.
Just about anything they might need or want could be found in this mess: toys, games, tools, clothes, toiletries, a bathroom...notably, everything except an escape route. For you see, to say that the characters were in raspberry gelatin was altogether inaccurate. Whatever stickiness existed in their trap was not something as light and airy as gelatin, no. It was heavier. Thicker. Longing for a union with some creamy peanut butter.
Reality dawned. There was a name for this type of enclosed, sticky space. It was, rather uncreatively named, a giant jamjar. Do have fun!
Not only was the location itself a mess, but so were the individuals swept up in such messiness. Not a single dry, clean, or intact object was in sight. A bright ruby red sludge coated the entire area, so thick that it obscured whatever this location used to be. For now, it was most definitely similar to the inside of an expired raspberry gelatin dessert.
As these stories often go, the beings coming to consciousness in the midst of all this mess would not remember exactly how they had traveled from the Point A of their own lives to the Point B of this disaster zone, but they would be surrounded by slight reminders. Everyone had a mishmash of items that had been on or near their person at the time---had someone been repairing a car?
A tire ringed the poor woman's head, caught unaware by the sudden digestion and regurgitation as much as anyone else.
Just about anything they might need or want could be found in this mess: toys, games, tools, clothes, toiletries, a bathroom...notably, everything except an escape route. For you see, to say that the characters were in raspberry gelatin was altogether inaccurate. Whatever stickiness existed in their trap was not something as light and airy as gelatin, no. It was heavier. Thicker. Longing for a union with some creamy peanut butter.
Reality dawned. There was a name for this type of enclosed, sticky space. It was, rather uncreatively named, a giant jamjar. Do have fun!
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Then something grabbed his attention. Movement from within the jam, caught out of the corner of his eye.
What in the--?
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"Is something wrong?"
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