On my way out the door to get the mail earlier this afternoon, I nearly stepped in something apocalyptic.
It could have just been an oddly-shaped muddy footprint, but when does it ever rain around here? Or it could have been something left by the animals that come around here. But it was a little big for an animal, even the duck who leaves her "presents" where she knows we'll have to dodge to avoid them.
No, this was something different.
When Peter Parker first came into contact with a mysterious black substance, Venom was born. We know how that worked out, so why would I take chances?
To avoid any unsavory confrontations, I planned to bring the hose around to wash off the mysterious offending substance, and I was just stepping over it when something odd began to seal itself around my ankle.
What the animals leave washes off easily and fertilizes the pentas lanceolata in the flowerbed.
It doesn't grab people.
And that's when I was positive something was wrong.
Instinctively, I kicked. It latched on, slimy and gross and starting to cover my sandal. If you've ever had black goop attack you on your front porch, you should know that it's not fun. Not fun at all. Stomping on it didn't work. Grinding it into the porch didn't work. Ew-worthy slime was creeping up my leg and my mind flashed to Secret Wars #8.
Yelch.
As awesome as it would be to have my own personal Venom, something had to be done about this, because my parents are so not happy with extraterrestrial life forms inside the house. Any Anodite powers I may or may not have are far from being mature yet, but I worked with what I could summon. Grasping at the slime with beams of mana shooting from my palms, I tried desperately to fling it away.
No luck.
I pressed my hand against the railing and let my body take on its matter, hoping the slime would lose its hold. Still no luck.
With one more desperate attempt, I rushed to the hose and turned it on to it's full power.
Surprisingly, at the impact of the cold water, the slime disattached itself. In fact, it splattered, landing a good thirty feet away and disappearing into the grass. My hyped-up brain told me to go after it, but my common sense told me to get the mail and run.
So I did.
And a nice, long shower was in store.
It could have just been an oddly-shaped muddy footprint, but when does it ever rain around here? Or it could have been something left by the animals that come around here. But it was a little big for an animal, even the duck who leaves her "presents" where she knows we'll have to dodge to avoid them.
No, this was something different.
When Peter Parker first came into contact with a mysterious black substance, Venom was born. We know how that worked out, so why would I take chances?
To avoid any unsavory confrontations, I planned to bring the hose around to wash off the mysterious offending substance, and I was just stepping over it when something odd began to seal itself around my ankle.
What the animals leave washes off easily and fertilizes the pentas lanceolata in the flowerbed.
It doesn't grab people.
And that's when I was positive something was wrong.
Instinctively, I kicked. It latched on, slimy and gross and starting to cover my sandal. If you've ever had black goop attack you on your front porch, you should know that it's not fun. Not fun at all. Stomping on it didn't work. Grinding it into the porch didn't work. Ew-worthy slime was creeping up my leg and my mind flashed to Secret Wars #8.
Yelch.
As awesome as it would be to have my own personal Venom, something had to be done about this, because my parents are so not happy with extraterrestrial life forms inside the house. Any Anodite powers I may or may not have are far from being mature yet, but I worked with what I could summon. Grasping at the slime with beams of mana shooting from my palms, I tried desperately to fling it away.
No luck.
I pressed my hand against the railing and let my body take on its matter, hoping the slime would lose its hold. Still no luck.
With one more desperate attempt, I rushed to the hose and turned it on to it's full power.
Surprisingly, at the impact of the cold water, the slime disattached itself. In fact, it splattered, landing a good thirty feet away and disappearing into the grass. My hyped-up brain told me to go after it, but my common sense told me to get the mail and run.
So I did.
And a nice, long shower was in store.
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