Whether he fell asleep, or was shaken into unconsciousness, Dr. Slugg never knew. The next thing he remembered was waking up with a start, still clutched in Phudge Mountain’s broad brown hand, while the mountain banged on the town gate calling loudly for admittance into Honkytown. For Phudge Mountain had power-walked, without turning so much as an inch out of the way, directly to the land of the Honkytowners.
The pink, peach-shaped sun was high in the sky. It was hotter in Honkytown than most area of Pus Continent due to a depleted ozone layer from all the Honkytowner’s frequent use of hairspray and mousses. Moist winds from Honkytown blew hotly in their faces. A Honkytowner guard, hearing the terrible clamor, came running to see who was hammering on the gates, and when they saw Phudge Mountain and Dr. Slugg they honked their crotch wildly and turned and ran to Master Kraka’s plantation office. The king hardly registered the guard’s terrified description of the brown gargantuan. All that he heard was the wonderful news that a giant slug, undoubtedly Dr. Lubricious Slugg, had at last been delivered into his power. Calling for his flackfizer Mlykhed, Kraka rushed out of his mansion towards the kingdom limits. With trembling hands he unlocked the gate and waved for Phudge Mountain and Dr. Slugg to enter. Phudge Mountain tramped defiantly toward the gammon-colored humanoid monarch of Honkytown.
"Welcome home, you big beautiful gastropod!" yelled Kraka, honking his crotch three times in rapid succession. Mlykhed arrived and stared at the enormous Phudge Mountain in terror. Then he dove into the nearest nut-bearing hairbush and hid.
From the mountain’s fist Dr. Slugg, resolved to go through with this disagreeable business, gurgled:
"I understand you wished to have me enslaved."
"Don't say enslaved," cried Kraka slyly. "Let us say that I wished to have my court honored by your perfect presence," he added, running his fingers over his blonde crew cut joyfully.
"Shall I crush or crumble him?" Phudge asked Slugg, interrupting Kraka's further remarks and ramblings. And then Kraka for the first time became really aware of Phudge Mountain. And the more he examined, the more horribly aware of him he became. The king nervously adjusted the pink pastel sweater tied loosely around his neck (It complemented his baby blue dress shirt perfectly).
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
"Mlyky!" he shrilled, looking all around for his royal flackfizer, "Mlyky, call out the guard!"
"Call them out yourself," chattered the trembling flackfizer, frightened out of his usual submissiveness. "I'll not stir from this bush."
Phudge Mountain made a snatch at Kraka, but Dr. Slugg hastily intervened.
"Wait! Listen, Phudgy, baby, this is my fight," gurgled Dr. Slugg. "Now be a good fellow and let me defend myself. Keep out of it till I need you."
"How long will that take?" grated Phudge Mountain, slightly mollified.
"Oh, an hour or two," answered the slug uneasily, determined, if he could, to escape from both of these treacherous villains.
"All right, dear," Phudge Mountain smiled as he said this. He felt he could afford to be generous, for soon Dr. Slugg would belong to him for good, so he put down the gastropod. Phudge Mountain leaned stolidly against the gate. Kraka kissed his class ring, then pointed it at Phudge, who instantly turned into a petrified poo sculpture.
Then Kraka pointed a pink pinky ring at Lubricious. In an instant a gold collar and chain clapped around Dr. Slugg’s neck, or rather, right below his face and above his shoulders, as slugs don’t really have necks.
"Now then," exulted Kraka, "You're captured." Mlykhed summoned two guards and bade them drag the protesting Dr. Slugg to the royal enclosure. Our brave friend struggled terribly but ignominiously he was dragged along.
Already the nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine and a half slugs, with nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine faces pressed against the bars, were watching the approach of their rival. For Kraka had talked so long and tiresomely of Dr. Lubricious Slugg that they considered him an enemy to be destroyed upon the spot. Also they had not eaten in days and had no qualms about cannibalism. They did not have long to wait, for while two guardsmen opened the gates of the enclosure, six more with the ends of their pointy petrified poo sticks urged Dr. Slugg forward. Stars! What a thunder of savage growls, roars and rumbles rose up from the enraged, famished slugs. Hundreds upon hundreds of riled gastropods slithered towards Dr. Slugg, their ravenous maws dripping thick, syrupy saliva...
