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High Noon

The village on the edge of the forest was a paltry collection of simple huts with walls made of gingerbread and roofs constructed from densely intertwined licorice candy.

Someone had left their window shutters open, and they slammed against their frame in the summer breeze. The village was deserted. A big ball of cotton candy buffeted by the wind rolled across the main street, and a giant wedding cake ten stories high could be seen at the far end, very still, probably dozing. A clock tower stood to one side, its candy cane hands ticking away the hours of the day marked by sugar candies in various colors.

The chomp stepped onto the street, apparently alone and unaided.

"Hey! Wedding cake!" The chomp screamed.

The giant cake wobbled angrily, probably annoyed because it was woken from some pleasant reverie.

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"It's time you got chomped," said the lone chomper, and just then the clock struck noon. The ring from the tower bell reverberated across the street, and the chomp took off at full jiggle, heading straight for the giant monster of a cake.

The cake was still wobbling, but from amusement instead of anger, it seemed. What chance did a single chomp have against it after all? Time to make some more chomp pudding. It tilted itself at a slight angle away from the incoming chomp, ready to crush him to a pulp. Some of its icing slid off and fell to the ground. It was assured of its superior position.

But the chomp seemed very confident. He was a brave chomp to attempt this, but a stupid chomp nevertheless, just like all the doomed chomps that had come before him.

A few feet away from the giant, the chomp suddenly leapt to the side, rolling out of the way.

"NOW!"