Suddenly, they pelt down on us like rain. It is all we can do to stand against the weight of them. I look at her and scream shamelessly.
The Gumbies will not be denied. Their claylike extremities grasp at every exposed surface, as they clamor for purchase. They leave dirty green streaks on everything they touch.
"We'll never make it!" she yells. I just shrug and press on, swatting the happy little green bastards as they claw at my face. Each one I hit bursts into ten smaller copies of the original, and each of those redoubles their efforts.
The now microscopic creatures cover us like a slime mold, surging and oozing like some obscene parody of the seaweed choked water off of the Cape. I'm the first to fall, a few feet short of the geodesic. I land face down, gasping for air that will not come. Gumbies clog my lungs, my ears, my eyes.
As the world grows dark, I wonder if she'll make it to decon. Then, even wondering is denied me.
You can respond to my ranting here.
For all you do, this rant's for you.