Gummigoo can't seem to get a certain clown out of his head, but he soon finds a solution- eating his feelings, and then some. Enjoy!
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Gummigoo and his two best mates, Max and Chad, were camped out by the banks of the Fudge River. The three of them, the notorious Syrup Bandits, had hit a dry spell since their last botched mission— though none of them could really remember why that last mission had gone so badly. Max and Chad had been slightly worried about the boss— they vaguely remembered something about him disappearing for a little bit, but all of it was pretty hazy.
"So, uh… boss?" Chad asked, nervously pressing his fingers together. "You, uh… you doing okay? It's just, you've been staring out dramatically at the river for like, six hours."
"Huh?" Gummigoo turned back to the lanky gummy croc. "Oh, yeah, I'm aces, mate," he forced a smile.
"Just… we kinda need to plan our next heist, or, y'know, we won't be able to get back to the village… or afford to eat…"
Gummigoo turned back to Chad fully, the barrel-chested croc slapping his friend's back as he smiled wider. "Don't you worry, Chad— next time we'll get 'em. Just, ah…" he shook his head. "I can't get out of me own head for some reason. Y'ever had recurring dreams? It's weird, I… I swear I keep having one about a clown."
"A clown?" Chad exclaimed. "I didn't know you were into that sorta thing, boss."
Gummigoo frowned, looking back at his friend. "What sorta thing?"
Chad canted his head, looking thoughtful. "I, uh… I'unno."
"I don't know…" the gator sighed as he leaned back, looking up at the bubble-gum pink sky. "Listen. What happened on that last job we had? We nabbed the Princess' syrup shipment… and then what?"
Chad blinked. "Uhm. Wow. I dunno, boss— me n' Max usually leave the thinkin' to you."
Gummigoo let out a small growl of frustration. Max and Chad were good lads, but they were absolute yobbos. "Look Chad, why don't you go get some rest? I'll take first watch."
Chad grinned, patting Gummigoo's shoulder. "You know we think you're a good lad, right boss? Whatever it is, I'm sure you'll figure it out."
"Yeah, yeah…" Gummigoo waved Chad off and sighed heavily. Once the other croc toddled off, Gummigoo was left with his thoughts long enough to dwell on what had been bothering him. Something was missing. He felt like he wasn't in control of anything anymore, and now there was this persistent dream that he couldn't shake. Without any other direction or idea of what to do next, the croc sighed as he did something he hadn't done since he was fresh out of the cadbury egg; he prayed to God.
"Alright, God— if you're there. I just want a sign about what I'm supposed to do, here. I can't move on from this weird last job— if only I could find a big score to help the lads, or just find something to get this off my mind…"
The croc was blown back by a sudden eruption of sound and color; confetti and noise-makers suddenly filled the air as a figure emerged from the smoke— Gummigoo could hardly believe it. He looked just like the stained glass windows; an enormous mouth with two eyes stuck in the middle, a top hat hovering above it, dressed in a royal red suit, cane in hand.
"Greetings my little Gummi-do-gooder! I am here to fix you up!"
The croc's mouth fell open. "God?"
"Ha-ha-ha! Right, yes! God." The strange floating figure zipped over to Gummigoo. "Now listen here, buckaroo— There is something a little off about your code, and no matter how many times I reset you, it just can't seem to get you back to normal."
"R-reset? Code? What're you talking about?" the croc gaped.
"Oh, you know— your hardwires, your artificial, digital soul, the thing that makes you, you!"
Gummigoo's eyes went wide. "M-my soul is artificial? What does that even mean?"
"Uhm—!" He watched God's two eyes swivel back and forth. "I have an idea! Let's change the subject." He draped his arm over Gummigoo's shoulder, pulling him to press cheek to bicuspid. "Now, I'm here to grant your wish! Uh, prayer, whatever. You say you want more syrup, something to get your mind off of this horrible little snarl in your code, right?"
"You mean the dream about the clown—?"
God snapped his fingers, and Gummigoo could only let out a muffled gasp as his mouth disappeared. "Up-bup-bup! No mention of clowns, jesters, or any such merrymakers— that's a holy decree, am I understood?"
The croc, trying not to panic, wildly nodded, and breathed a sigh of relief as God snapped his fingers again, and his mouth disappeared. "Now, my gooey little chocolate center, I have just the thing to make your problems go away! What would you say to me sending you on a quest, to the biggest vault of syrup in all the land?"
Gummigoo's eyes went wide with awe. "Y-you don't mean—?"
"That's right! The monstrous Fudge's own secret horde, located beneath the riverbed. I can send you there, and all you have to do is grab as much syrup as you can and get outta there!"
The gummy croc felt his knees go weak. "You— you're choosing me to liberate the greatest treasure in Candy Canyon Kingdom? I— I don't know what to say!"
"Just say, 'thanks Caine, I can't wait to go on this adventure!'"
"Thanks Caine, I can't wait to go on this adventure!" Gummigoo found himself saying it word for word before he could stop himself. "I, uh… Wait, who's Caine?"
"Oh wow look at the time, let's get you started on your sacred quest now, now, now!" God wielded his fancy walking cane and bonked Gummigoo on the head. In an instant, the canyon and sunset disappeared, and Gummigoo was dropped into a vast, cavernous chamber.
"Oh my— What the—" the croc picked himself up, his chest pounding as he looked around wildly. The room was bathed in a purple-pink haze, and was so large he couldn't even see the ends of the room in any direction. Lining the space in neat rows were giant vats, and as Gummigoo approached one, seeing a rich, viscous liquid dribbling down the side, he swiped it with his finger and tasted it. "Strewth! That… that tastes like one hundred percent pure maple syrup! Liquid gold!"
He looked around wildly at the rows upon rows of giant vats— just one of them would be enough to feed his village for months. But how was he going to get it all out of here? Just one of the vats was taller and wider than he was, and probably weighed close to a ton with all that syrup sloshing around inside.
Eat it.
Gummigoo looked up. "What? Who said that?"
Eat it!
"Eat— eat all this syrup? That's ridiculous! I can't—" Gummigoo stopped as his stomach growled angrily. "What the…? Woah!" The croc felt his body almost swoon, and then he felt himself starting to move towards the nearest vat. What was going on? Was it instinct? Foresight? He barely felt that he had any control as his hands grasped the hose connected to the nearest vat. There was a sudden idea that struck him that if he drank down as much syrup as he could, he could carry it out that way— but he shook his head, that was ridiculous— how was anyone supposed to get the syrup out of…
"Gah!" Before he could finish that thought, he was already turning the handle to start emptying the vat. Syrup began dribbling out of the hose, and not being able to think of anything else to do, Gummigoo began gulping it down. He let out a noise he rarely made, his eyes rolling back as he started to drink it down. He could feel the rich, overwhelmingly sweet liquid spill down his throat and begin to settle into his stomach. His stomach gurgled loudly, but he felt no urge or think of any reason to stop. All of a sudden, all he could think of, all he could focus on, was gulping down more and more syrup. He was barely conscious of how he was gorging himself into an inflated, obscenely bloated parade float version of himself.
As the vat began to run on empty, he couldn't see down past the enormous blimp of a belly that turned him into a doughy, gelatinous mountain of white, cream-flavored scales. Every part of him had become caked over in layers of fat; his flabby legs were growing as wide as the vats, larger than tree trunks and half buried under his fat folds and love handles, a wonder how they were staying upright and holding up the rest of him, as the underhang of his belly was mere inches from the ground. The croc's bloated, outrageously obese figure was further bolstered by an enormous rear end that could crush any seat that dared try to hold its weight, two globular cheeks in a contest to claim more space than his shockingly fattened up tail.
Finally, Gummigoo felt more like himself— even as he still smacked his lips and could feel the after taste of that admittedly delectable syrup. His mind was in a bit of a daze, but then he slowly realized what he had just done. Gummigoo's eyes went wider and wider as he realized that, wherever he looked, there was just more of him.
"What— w-what the… What the bloomin' heck did I just do?" Gummigoo gasped, his newly rounded cheeks billowing as he spoke. He tried valiantly to move, his massive belly sloshing around mightily like a rolling wave, legs weighed down by so much syrup-fed weight he was less making steps than he was rolling barrels off one another.
"Hoo-hoo-hoo…"
Gummigoo froze; the gelatinous croc tried to will his body to stop from sloshing. He recognized that deep, bassy voice as it rolled and echoed across the halls. The Fudge. "Mmm… What deeee-lectable little morsel managed to worm its way into my syrup vault, hmm?"
"Bugger." Gummigoo hissed. Not only was he the only target in the whole place, but now he was an awfully big target. If he was going to go out, though, maybe he could grab one more drop of syrup…?
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