“As I was saying, it was in the gelatin woman’s bedchamber that the real conflict began, for she soon realized, as did I, that in that moment a certain part of my biology had itself taken on rather gelatin-esque properties. You’d think that if anything, this would be hood news for a man in a world made entirely of gelatin, but she assured me that it was not. It quickly got her whipped up to the point of tears. You see, she was feeling quite insecure that she was made of gelatin and not flesh, and was certain that this was the reason I was…having difficulties. I assured her that no, that was not the case, that sometimes it just twerked out that way, that indeed I was quite tired and possibly majorly concussed, and that truthfully I found her gelatin body quite beautiful, but she just wouldn’t hear a word of it.

“That night I slept on the gelatin couch, which was absolutely humiliating. However, that morning, things were twerking a little better, and before long I was back in that bedroom wrapped in a ball of gelatin bliss.”

Pamela dry heaved for a moment.

“Everything okay, Pamela?”

“N-no.”

“Glad to hear it. Well, anyways, it was indeed so rapturous that afterwards we found ourselves passed out on her jiggly gelatin waterbed, our consciousnesses swirling in that beautiful miasma of bliss that only a hood clucking can put one in.”

“Too much information, Henry.”

“I’m sorry, Pamela, but it’s only vital to my story. Plus, I feel compelled to give you all the information. It must be something about the way you’re staring at me and how you’re writing in your notebook and the way your pen bobs around, it just makes me feel like I’m being interrogated. Have you ever thought about applying to join the Royal Gourd or thereabouts?”

Pamela rolled her eyes.

“No, seriously, I mean it! You just have that interrogational aura. It’s very intimidating.”

“Thanks, Henry.”

“Anyways, once we’d fully out clucked ourselves we laid back on that gelatin waterbed and passed the cluck out. We might have woken up and clucked half asleep at some point, I’m not really sure, don’t quote me. Anywhatways, the real interesting thing happened when I truly woke up, because you see Pamela, when I woke up I was laying upon a large clump of kelp and algae deep underwater. Something slippery and slimy had wrapped itself around my nostrils and was force-feeding me oxygen, keeping me alive! I do believe, now that I mention it, that that may have been this gentle squid,” Henry looked up and smiled at the squid as it dangled from the tree branch, oozing thick black ink, “If only I could afford the squid that same life saving favor.”

SCREEEE

An eagle swooped down and snatched the squid from the branch in a flash.

“Um,” Pamela cleared her throat, “Do you, uh, wanna chase after that eagle, Henry?”

“Nah, I’m hood.”

“Cool.”

“So it was then I realized that I must’ve hallucinated the entire thing with the gelatin people and had just been passed out at the bottom of the creek the whole time! Would you believe that, Pamela?”

“Yes.”

“I know, me either!”

Pamela did a double take, wondering if Henry had actually listened to her.

“So I looked around, seeing I was surrounded by a beautiful coral reef. I immediately found myself wishing I could savor that mesmerizing image forever, so I attempted to. That is until a small toothfish found the chance to nibble upon my big toe, which was in quite bad taste. Jolting around like an electrified toad I waggled on around those beautifully jagged grafts of coral until I was absolutely zabbled out.

“This of course left me with many abrasions and clefts and contusions that caused me a hood deal of bloody pain, from which I might have sworn, crying out for the sweet mercy of cock, save for that that was impossible due to the fact that as I’ve elaborated on earlier in this story screaming would only have brought yet more water rushing into my mouth and the sound would scarcely have traveled, and hen, even if it had traveled still it would surely be less than intelligible. Yes, the old tagline from ‘Deceased Subaquatia’—that gamified, magic-based youth entertainment hallucination—‘Underwater, no one can hear you cry out for cock,’ indeed was ringing true for me at this fateful moment.

“Truthfully I was still wondering what had become of all those lovely naked creek people, and it seemed it was to be forever a mystery, until I saw an oddly shaped eel just kind of hanging out around a fuzzy pink anemone. What possessed me to reach out for this long, thick, slimy creature I can scarcely say, but reach out for it I did. In reaching for this remarkably girthy eel I noticed I’d accidentally smashed a large cluster of glowing red eggs. It wouldn’t have been that big a deal, honestly, if it weren’t for the irate little clownfish that started circling my equator like a predator soon afterwards. Don’t worry, though, I quickly made fit to stick the bastard in my navel.

“Finally I was free to pursue my true cause. My true cause being to grasp that massive eel, of course. Oh, and grasp it I did, Pamela. Grasp it I did. First I just got it in my right hand. I found its head to be quite ornery, so I ended up using my left hand to clasp around its jaws and lightly massage both sides, so as to calm the beast. As this went on I noticed that while at first the eel had seemed stiff and ornery, after awhile it had somewhat relaxed, though not to the point of uselessness.

“Soon I thought I might release the eel. You see, Pamela, I’d been thinking upon seeing it that it might be not dissimilar to those loathsome posterior-biting vines that you’re yet so familiar with. However I was beginning to lose faith, and was also growing quite tired of twerking both my hands over the beast. Luckily or not for me it was at that very instant that the eel decided to open its voracious jaws and release upon me the white, hot, sticky flash of venom contained neatly within its clearly overabundant throat sacs. This venom pooled around me in a soupy, loathsome cloud that blotted out my vision and left me feeling quite startled.”

Pamela held up a finger while she shook out the cramps in her drawing hand. Detailing these last couple of scenes in her notebook, all the while doing so as if Henry had been naked the entire time instead of clothed as he had assumedly been, was a task that had wrought itself fiercely upon her digits. Once the blood was flowing to the tips of her fingers again, Pamela lowered her raised finger and nodded Henry onward.