“Abracatoastra!” you exclaim, brandishing your hands in front of you as if they cooking pans, so flat and useful. Part of you hopes – in that faint back of your mind that is longer than the dark tunnel you walked through – that your spell will be a mistake, a misfire, a mis-implementation or, uh, something. That it won’t result in—
Oh, too late.
Two large blocks of brownish-white material, heavy but of the consistency of, yes, toast, appear either side of you. Their heads are merged into their bodies or fronts, and eyes peer from hollows a fifth of the way down their bodies. The look they give you is a cross between honey and marmite. They’re more like stoned club bouncers than knights in shining…pastry. Their outside edges and their hand-like appendages are dappled with a green-blueness that could as easily be moss as it could be mould. Their eyes glaze across you with half an expression, and these paper – uh, toast men – proceed to open their gullets. The chocolate spread, so thick and glutinous that you are quickly drowning under its consistency, starts to slide towards the toast monsters, just as you sink under.
You try and cry out, but that only propels more of your breath from your exhausted lungs, and your mouth fills with the chocolate spread. Normally, of course, this would be the best of opportunities—but right now, dying from inhaling chocolate spread is not your priority.
A spongy limb slams against your chest, and you are propelled backwards. One of the toast creatures barges over your so that its entire middle section-flat is between you and the wave of chocolate spread. Weirdly enough, a sucking feeling pulls from your legs, as if you are trying to get out of heavy mud but in reverse, and the gloop forms away from you, towards the toast creature.
Magic. Probably. Kinda.
Absorbing the chocolate spread (in fact, all of the spread, leaving you crouching in what looks like an endless pit) the toast creatures widen until they are even bigger: now bigger than their doorway-form, they are twice your height and as wide as a small car each. You cover your face. You know the look that flitters across their expressions. You know everything. They’re about to…