I had a dream where I was the king of all marshmallows, only there was an attempted violent coup d'etat with military backing from the neighboring ocean of swedish fish. This of course led to war. I fought them as hard as I could with my army of gumdrop armed marshmallow men and women (as all my dreams exist in a perfect egalitarian world). The battlefield was strewn with the dismembered remains of gummy and marshmallowy guts. Sweet syrupy sugar blood carmilized the killing grounds tan.
In the end we were conquered by the swedes and I was forced to abdicate my licorice throne. They kept trying to put me to death, but my flesh and bone body was far too strong for their toffee gullitine.
Instead they decided to drown me in a tank of butterscotch, where the gooey liquid would congeal around me like amber over a fly, and I'd be put on display as the only man ever to rule over candy - their once and future king.
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