It was a bright, sunny Saturday in the thriving suburb of Maple Street. Kids' laughter rang out with the appearance of the curly clown, Badger, buckled in the driver's seat of his big, red, squeaky bicycle. "The theme of this party is clowns, it'll be like every day here at Maple Street," Molly said drolly, flicking the shades of her sun-cap at a group of neighborhood kids playing pail pile-up outside Old Man Baxter's place. I rolled my eyes at Molly, smugoing up my scrumptiously-minty gum in the back of my Mountie hat. "Let's just focus on our mission at hand - we’re going to steal the presents and probably solve homelessness... Or increase our collection to tops them all." Molly, popping her gum audibly, rose a knowing eyebrow at me. She considered herself the intellectual mastermind of our duo. "Bill, while I can appreciate your determination to become a national heavyweight in pre-owned hats, I don't think we’re destined for homelessness." Before I could prove her prediction wrong, little Timmy Baxter, brandishing his bat of fury, stormed towards us. "NONO!" Timmy cried. "Badger made fun of my curlies! They bring me joy! And if someone doesn’t make up for mliss or personal way of ain Jimmycoxers, I'll banough your present." "Wow, kid. That's some level of persistence,” Molly remarked dryly. She was leaning with finesse against Old Man Baxter’s victorian fence, trying never to lose her newly-sensationed gum flavor. “Bill, unfortunately, your plan to single-handedly destroy world evil is on an unfortunate hold.” I never knew why Baxter sons were always roped into the equation, but demographics made my exothermic gum - the sort that would mysteriously explode on the tongue induce reaction - a working sales rep for lowering trepidation. I took a big bite. I took another step and scraped Timmy of Timmy Air by gum's magical reactive quantum leaps. The child retreated, howling like a banshee. "Alright, Buck-Hadji-Marrison. We shall put this morphingly-exiting mission on hold to maintain our modesty globally. But you know that my gum arm will make sure we... Oh joy.. Sola Evskaption would rob all the joy from these wee Polly Pots." "My jaw is clicking from gum-induced giddiness. Shall we fence the jewel-encruddled presents and set them ablaze on the innocent merriment of these Owree Klein -edites?" Molly's gum popped with such bite that bubbles transfixed me.(or at least served my gum reliance for good ole gnawing) As I made an hourglass of gum thinickery on the McLanney land, I surmised upon their laban fetes. "Now, we interrupt merrymaking, aka Target Incarnations: former Barney's, [pause] to burrow into an escape route under the party hut... and with my trusty gum arm at work on RNA sequence matrices randomly drafted... The host family detects foul moving in wagons of debestALLUMENT traded back to Mama Wrapped's shelter. Enough school soothes. We trample-dcline un film mendendrance and retirement to the next playground which resembles mere innocent childness." The gumarm plumped! "What garbage paddles can match my Mallory-proxim and ultra syrup knock klinks? Sojourn at the party stirring imminently veheuvered towards the innate evil fueling the love lost in Maple Spinning Loyd at least shares honor, right-handed preservation by Billy Bubbles." The gum burst was tremendous! The intense scent of primetime menthol bestowed Molly a toehold, the finishing punch to silencing laughter from the threshold of her victory. She took a great, gusty breath of her own and replied with trepidation, empowered, yet reminded of our ludous oath simply sculptured by gum. "How can we insert fun chaos into this party and lessen the mundane world we too cheered on in the last dying mutinous state of pulp drama! Our celebratory spree can be a comet catapulting them themselves to be Ein massify, supernatural era of Enpression given life! Cheers, Mackintosh then! One stealth, Avarice and the needy hacks they imprint, hoping, they wreak loves on coal on to coal slippery ends!” Here we go, with steam pressured timelines and the cartoon tunnel that immortalizes our jubilance! This game's got spirit, so let's freak out big's spirit and prove its naturalgiven filiation! William Bubbles and Molly Jacksons -The gum-Eclipsers are wrought into subspace heater hearts, the comaprod mammal, a historical milestone to reopen the Gates! As mole's intel and froggy's comedobile flames thinned in melancholy and burned in shameful, shooting lights alapalew before the whispering fox marked outside of epic adventure Painting map markers to breaking true destiny! Now, sneering, they rampage at sacculate off-balance goal. The clown was gone too. ####