So much doggrel

[skinandbone]

Suddenly, the lemon sun is high in the sky and all the cocoa-dusted shadows are short, so it must be noon. There is singing in the distance, but the songs never get too far. A few lines in, something interrupts, there's a scream and the singing stops. A moment later, it starts again in a different voice.

"There's a bear
With a lair
High above
Taxon village
And a treasure
Without measure
high above
Taxon village
Better than gold!
Brighter than silver!
A wonder to behold!
A joy t- AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHGH - "

All is silent. A breeze wafts the scent of sugar. And then the singing starts up again, this time a bit closer.

"High up on the cookie mountain
In a bear cave is a fountain
Frothing up with lemonade
Icy cold and freshly made"

"And by the fountain grows a flower
That has an awesome magic power
To change the world, to set things right
To warm cold hearts and win all fight...s"

"But one night, while playing alone
The graham bear knocked over a cookie stone
And stopped the flow of - AAAAAIIIIIEEEEEE! NO, NO, NOAAAAAAARRRGH!" This time, the screaming ends with a few distinct crunches.

All at once, a pinwheeling cluster of Candy Extras spins around the corner and into the pretty village of Real People. They are dancing and jumping in a clever acrobatic display that is only slightly hampered by the two massive Graham bears that are wading through them, taking bites left and right. And this time, when they sing, it is a chorus. A chorus that looses a few voices along the way.

"That lemonade – and this is bad -
was dammed up by a- " "AAAAAAAAARRRRRGH!" *crunch crunch crunch*
Who knocked a rock in, accidental
The flower's dying and we're going mental!

No more river!
Means no more fish!
No more fish!
Which are delish!
We have a double-" "YAAAAARGH!"
" - heartfelt wish:
Lemonade!
And swedish fish!

So now the city needs some heroes
before our fish and flowers are zeroes
people to shift the brownie blocks
and clear out all those cookie rocks

Delvers, shifters, movers, diggers
Those with muscles in their figuAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARES!!
To work and work with all their might
And make our blocked up river right!"

And now there is only one Extra, a lollipop man who dances all by himself, spinning and waving his arms in a way that seems designed to attract ursine attention.

"Save the flower! Save the fish!
That is our deep and heartfelt wish
Be kind! Be good! Be smart! Be sweet!
And - AAAAAAAIIIIEEEEEE!!"

The singing, blessedly, is over, and so is that music that no one noticed until it stopped. There are five headless candy corpses in the street - everyone knows the head is the first part you eat - and two graham bears.

Two very large graham bears. Who turn and sniff the air for the scent of more prey.

Oh look. There's some.

Comments

[whyfearthedark]

Twin flower-stamped pastilles (violet-flavoured pastilles) blacker than pitch, stare down the graham bears. As sweet as marsipan, which covers Nuada's black licorice center, as deadly his intent.

Long strands of barely there caramel hangs from his head, a thousand strands of elaborate sugar work in the making. Whenever he moves, his caramel hair drips and globs onto the ground, forever forming new wisps of hair. It is no doubt the rich buttery smell that draws the graham bears - but all is well.

Nuada wears a thick armour of red and black licorice, much like the formal gear he wore before the demon affair.

It must be said, that be what he will, but Marsipanuada is not the kind to stand down from a fight.

One might wonder why he would stand here, in the middle of the street, preparing to go against a pair of ravenous bears unarmed.

Marsipanuada would point out, a touch resentfully, that there are better questions to ask than why.

More to the point, he isn't unarmed (except for in the most obvious way). He comes bearing one of the brightest candy canes in town, striped in all the colours of the food industry.

He moves with determination, like a stop-motion dummy needing more frames per minute. The graham bears roar, and Nuada bares too many blanched almonds-for-teeth than should technically fit his mouth.

In a flash of rainbow colours, the cane finds its target with a sickening crunch. Graham crumbs fly everywhere. Spun sugar is crushed underfoot.

Marsipanuada spins madly from bear to bear; twisting and spinning and --his cane is stuck.

Lodged in the jugular of one of the bears.

He and the bear freeze in their respective positions, and exchange perplexed looks from one to the other. The second bear stands off to the side, looking between the tasty treat of marsipan and licorice, and its crumbly cohort, as if uncertain what to do next.


...well, isn't this awkward.

[infinitelystranger]

To the--rescue?--comes one ever-helpful ~SUGARLOCK HOLMES~, announced by a title card that pops up over his head when he climbs up over a gingerbread rooftop and sits on it. He took this prudent measure upon first spying the bears and the apparent destruction they were wreaking on the candy townsfolk, but now that he's on the other side he rests his pastel arms on his pastel knees and watches Nuada fight.

His first impulse was self-preservational: he hasn't much to offer in the way of bear-fighting when he's himself and bears are bears, and has no reason to believe he is much more fearsome as a series of Smarties connected by string. Now that he's had a few moments to observe and consider, though, this is posing all sorts of interesting questions. --and he should probably contribute.

A large piece of hard candy falls on one of the bears' heads from where Sherlock's pried it out of the roof. "Are those graham crackers?" he speculates aloud, mostly to himself but in Nuada's earshot. "You know, I don't see why graham crackers should be able to bite through Smarties or other hard candies. You'd think they'd at least bother to make Candyland internally consistent. --oh, would you quit that," this directed at another candy bear that's begun snapping at his feet.

He takes hold of a gingerbread shingle and starts prying it out of the roof as well. "If only we had milk," he muses.

[smecker]

"I've got chocolate milk. That work?"

Paul Smecker is hauling himself up the other side of the gingerbread roof, gun first. His beloved Glock has transformed into something that looks an awful lot like a supermarket squirt gun, but it is, indeed, loaded with a creamy brown liquid that is magically delicious.

Paul 'Sweet-Tarts' Smecker pulls himself up into kneeling on the other corner of the roof. He stares down at the graham bear, then down at his pistol, then back at the bear. Nowhere near enough milk.

Then he talks into the tablet on his wrist.

"Wyatt? I think we're gonna need a bigger bowl."

[voice: to a bunch of peeps, actually!]

[hasaheart]

"On it!" Comes Cain's voice over the tablet - in fact, over everyone's tablets whether they want it or not.

This isn't just Candy Cain doing his own bit: this is Candy Cain doing his bit re: New Responsibilities. Barking out orders.

"Nuada! Fire hydrant! Holmes, find something to direct the jet. My ETA is 2 minutes and counting down."

Then sounds the strangest thing, in the not-so far distance: a wet, glorp of a sound that is suspiciously similar to...a big vehicle warning innocent civilians that it is currently in reverse so get out of the damn way.

*Bwoolp bwoolp bwoolp!*

"Smecker, go for the one missing a paw. Everyone else steer clear of the plaza! It's about to get messy!"

Re: [voice: to a bunch of peeps, actually!]

[infinitelystranger]

"--is that a dump truck?" says Sherlock offhand as he climbs up the slope of the roof and to the other side again, kicking his new breadshingle in the direction of his bear as he does. "Well, I suppose if you could find a fire truck you wouldn't be needing our help. All right, let's have a look--"

He sounds like he could stand to be in a bit more of a hurry, and to be taking this all a bit more seriously. Nevertheless, he drops off the other side of the rooftop and sidles around the building carefully, not keen on attracting bear attention and discovering for himself whether Smarties can feel pain in a very uncontrolled experiment. Once the coast is clear he runs to the shelter of the next building (this one built from striped Christmas peppermint), inches around that--to find himself face to face with a puzzled bear.

So much for that tactic. Sugarlock Holmes takes off at an energetic sprint in the other direction, Smarties all rattling, while the graham bear chases him: thankfully, being candy has not made him shorter and he builds up a sprinting momentum rather quickly, dashing off through a series of dark (chocolate) alleys.

He emerges on the scene again about a minute and a half later, running from the other direction, with a very long red licorice tube looped over his shoulder and one end streaming off in the air behind him. "I hope this is what you meant," he shouts breathlessly as he goes.

[whyfearthedark]

It is a good thing that Sugarlocks' timing is what it is, because by the time Marsipanuada's kicked and vaulted his way to the fire hydrant he looks by far too determined to just pull the damn thing out of the ground.

A licorice tube rather facilitates things. In the background, the graham bear missing a paw is eyeing the candy cane still lodged in its fellow's jugular (although it has become very apparent that graham bears don't have jugulars to begin with), and licking its lips.

The *bwoolp bwoolp siren keeps getting closer - but not, it would seem, close enough just yet. Between the pair of them, it's short work getting the tube attached. Nuada stands, tube at the ready, grinning like a candy-mad-man.

"Let us see what these fiends are truly made of."

[loves_bitch]

"What the bloody hell is going on?"

A creature make up entirely of jelly bean like candies comes running up, seemingly eager to help. A few of them fall off of him as he comes to a sliding halt near to Marsipanuada. The sense of humor here is still strange and off, as he's labeled as Spike & Ike to anyone who looks at the tablet.

A brief demented laugh escapes him, "And how can I help do more of it?"

[smecker]

It's the accent that's the clue-- no, Spike's not the only Brit in town, but the phrasing, the word choice, that's pretty distinctively Spike, when the jelly beans wouldn't really give Paul a whole lot to go on.

He's busy trying to line up a shot on the pawless graham bear, but Paul Smecker always has time to answer something snappily.

"I don't know, slick, what's it look like? Because if it looks like the city's been turned to candy and that we're being attacked by graham cracker bears that we're about to unleash the fury of whatever-the-fuck-is-in-that-hydrant upon them, then looks happen to be 100% accurate. Also, in case you didn't have your tablet turned on, Cain's incoming with some fucking milk so you'd probably better get to high ground."

Sentences Paul thought he'd never say: that last one.

He lets loose with the squirt-gun, emptying its limited capacity of chocolate milk onto bear number #1. Little soggy around the head is the best he can do.

"That goes for you two, too!" he yells down at Nuada and Sherlock. "I'll yell visual of the truck when I get it, then get clear of the damn square!"

Because it sure sounds like a truck, that bloop-beep noise.