with a frantic lunge you reach for the ball and chain at the end of the row of implements of pain, hoping that you'll get time to swing it around into clobbering range before Sugarina has time to transfix you with a burst of silver.

Unfortunately, the one thing you hadn't counted on is the extreme difficulty of getting a spiky ball, about five foot of well studded chain, and a patchwork tea cosy to move quickly. You grab the padded baul and heav upwards trying to unstick the weapon from the peg on which it hangs, however your motion is a litle too enthusiastic, resulting in quite a large quantity of fairly hefty iron chain flying off it's peg and whirling around like a badly done yoyo trick.

The flaling handle catches a long wooden hafted skewer like device next to it (who's purpose you really don't want to contemplate), and both implements topple towards you, striking you painfully and knocking you flat.

While the impacts themselves are only brusing, remaining undetected from a psychotic, magic throwing old sorceress is a rather difficult proposition when lying on the carpet under several feet of chain and a good length of steel.

You are stil frantically trying to slip sideways (getting a nasty friction burn on the pink carpet), when you here the witches' cry of triumph from above, and a lance of silver light beams down at you.

Your entire body seems first to soften and run like wax, then to squeeze tight, twisting painfully inwards. It's actually a very similar sensation to that a fat person gets when they insist on wearing clothes a good three inches too small in an effort to prove they've lost weight.

In your case however, you are deffinately losing weight, along with mass, and quite a bit of substance as well as complex chemical structures.

The hole process of softening and tightening goes on for what seems to be an eternity, but is probably less than a second. At last, you find yourself lying in total darkness unable to see or hear, only feel.

the sensation of large spikes sticking into your soft side quickly faides, and is replaced by one of a smooth, thin surface cradling your round, sugar crusted body.

You realize with horror you've been picked up and stuck into a paper bag, no doubt to wait for the next poor fool who tries to get a cheap snack on a British seaside and is destined to enter the horrific dungeon.

Not only will this be a terrible injustice, but you are not particularly happy about the fact that you'll be eaten in the process as well.

Your quest has come to a very sticky end indeed, though you might find it a comforting thought that you've actually fallen at the final hurdle, ----- or rather circle with hole in the midle.

If your immortal hole should ever find itself this way again, sopefully you can overcome the vile Sugarina next time.

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