[~WRITE OFF THE BAT~] 20 SHADES OF ROMANCE

There was a deepness to this night. Yet, I felt safe. It seemed like the ocean was falling around us. Wind was strong, but we held on. If we could reach the cave, this terror of a storm would be nothing but noise.
The ground was muddy and slippy. Years of horses seemed to do nothing after this much rain. One wrong step, and I felt myself falling back. Suddenly, a hand caught mine. My body was brought upright, and he tugged me along.
It sounds silly, but all I could think of while we ran through this nightmare towards shelter, was this suddenly warmth in my heart with his hand holding mine.

Flickering in the firelight, his face seemed to glow. Though he had fallen asleep, the fire needed tending. It was the spark of hope in this dark place. While the thick coffee cloud poured black java on the world, all warmth was sucked out of this cinnamon cave like a practiced alcoholic pulling the juice from a lemon slice.
Uncompromising in his beliefs, he had refused to share body heat. Leaving us with little choice. A brisk wave of my wand issued my faithful fire, which nestled into the kindling like a sleeping puppy.
Watching him from across the firepit, I felt cold and rejected. Yet, curiosity got the better of me, and I found my eyes drifting to his lips. How soft are they? I wondered.
Startled by my thought, I adjusted my drying tunic. After a moment, I find myself peering again. 
With a forelorn sigh, I adjust the flames with my wand. 
There was a crackle of thunder behind me outside the cave, and a gust of wind picked up. Scurrying to the other side of the fire, I settled down next to him. Obstinant as ever, Jacob continued to slumber as if he hadn't a trouble in all of Pinfoot. 
Perhaps Jacob really hadn't a trouble. After all, there was a semi-qualified Marshmallow Wizard sitting beside him. Very few animal crackers dare to confront such magicians. Assured that the fire spell would maintain itself, I layed down. Beside me, Jacob's gave a murmur in his dream. It was endearing. 
Unable to help myself, I leaned over and gently touched our lips.
Sleep well, my Prince.

The bitter cold of Popcornia autumn mornings nipped at my nose. The fire had gone out, and day had broke. Furthermore, Prince Jacob had gone. Perhaps to find us some food?
Stretching my back pain out, I departed from the cinnamon cavern to meet the fog blanketted fields beyond. Not far up the path, I noted a trickling. Keen wizard senses told me that a clean sodawater river fed a small pond.
Perhaps a moment to refresh would cleanse some of my worries away. What's more, my clothes could use a good rinse too!
Off came my clothes, and into the pool I went. After ringing out my hair, I began to scrub aimlessly at the filth of cinnamon on my garbs. It was a near fruitless effort, though certainly put me at greater ease for trying.
Standing to exit, I was shocked to hear, "Oh!"
Looking like a lion cub in the path of stampeeding wildebeasts, Prince Jacob was standing just near the pond, holding a prized rumball rabbit kill in one hand. The other hand over his mouth.
After a second of brainfreeze, I dropped back into the cold sodawater. 
"Ah! Uh! Um! Rumball Rabbit Stew?" prince Jacob asked, quickly trying to forget what just happened.
"Sounds great! See you in the cave."
"Bring some sodawater?" 
I watched as Prince Jacob wheeled himself away with clumbsy footwork.

As I watched the sunset on Popcornia, I found myself wondering how we'd ever be able to return to normal lives. Though the definition of normal during the next few lunar cycles would certainly vary slightly.
People tended to get a little... Silly when the full moon alligned annually with the Pineapple Knight constellation.
Nonetheless, this was a grim situation. Peering over at Prince Jacob, I found him idly widdling a stick by the fire. His mind seemed far off.
"There's something I've been meaning to ask, My Liege."
"Speak it," the Prince demanded.
"What business would those... 'ninjas' have with you?"
At once the Prince paused in his idle task. "What business of yours is it?"
Blinking, I said, "Sire, we are in running further from Popcornia by the day. While it does not irk me to be pulled along, I must ask what has incurred their wrath?"
For a while Prince Jacob continued to widdle. Pooling his throughts, maybe. At length, he returned my answer. "They are the Mask of Unagi."
"Une-Agh-ee?" I tried to comprehend at the time, truthfully was lost at sea.
From the distant shore of Wasabi, our enemy hails. Their business with me is an old affair I had hoped would not return to haunt me."
"Sire, you have had dealings with Wasabi?"
"Aye. Years ago, during Food Fight 2. They are brave and merciless men. My father, King Butters Popcornia, devised with Queen Matignon to the south, that we would kidnap Princess Maki of Wasabi's Handroll Dynasty."
While I listened intently, I found fewer and fewer words click in my mind. Though I had been alive during the Food Fight 2, I had been two years too young to take up arms. The foreign food of distant soil was as confusing to me as likely it is to you.
"The plan was simple in essence. Yet we were deceived, and it fell to the wayside. The Handroll Dynasty offered to let my father free if I took my own life." Prince Jacob peered at me, "Something I did not do. Now the Dynasty has become so maddened with power, they send assassins to collect on their bargain."
I have always found Prince Jacob to be a stirring and powerful figure. Both manly and elegant. Here and now, the Prince shockingly sent shivers up my spine.
Pulling myself together, or at least attempting to, I said, "I love you-"
Reeling at my tongue's sudden blurt, I hastily added, "-r war stories."
Feeling completely awkward now, I began rambling.
"If it were up to me, I would have joined the fight against the Wasabsis, and did my part, instead of wasting it at Marshmallow Wizardry Academy! Did you know they accept women at the Academy? I was surprised to. Yet, there you have it. If there was something I could have done, I would have. The Food Fights were--"
"Horrible. You're lucky to have missed them."

"It was warned to me," the Prince declared. "Walnut Rock is a dangerous place."
"Understatement, Sire!" I cried, avoiding the swipe of another bearclaw.
Half-way up a tree, and trying to scramble higher, the Prince and I found the only safety on a difficult spot. I felt his warm body pressed up against my back. How horrible am I, that I notice these things during times of stress?
The bearclaw below gave a sad, desperate bellow after us. Leaning its great big, sugary weight into it, the bearclaw began shaking the tree. The branches swaying too and fro. The Prince's weight being thrust upon my backside again and again. Oh dash it, what was I doing? This was both horrible and foolish of me! Why, they taught me magic at the Academy!
Raising my wand, I shouted, "Cupcake!" 
Sparkles burned forth, forging plumes of fire that shot toward the bearclaw. 
In moments, we were free of our tormentor.
"My apologies, My Liege! That should have been my first action. Alas, the bearclaw caught me off-guard."
"Nonsense," the Prince expressed, clamping a large hand on my shoulder. "I rather enjoyed the ride!"
"You... you did? I too--"
"Aye! Like a swingset for a real man!" 
"Aye... That is what I was going to say," I lied, feeling dejected.

"Maybe if you could keep your word, this wouldn't be an issue!" yelled the Prince.
"How was I supposed to know you'd show up today, Sire?" asked a spicy pepper woman.
"You promised me, I was the only one," demanded the Prince.
The woman spat and took a haul on her candy cigarette. "A girl's gotta eat!"
"I see you've been doing a lot of that!"
"There's no proof of that. Mr. Omelett is only a business aquaintance!"
"Oh yes," the Prince said, waving his arms. "There's egg on your face, Cherry!"
Cherry hesitatingly felt her face.
"Aha!" the Prince exclaimed.
Seated across the room, I held my hot cocoa timidly.
"No sabes lo que estoy diciendo, y estoy usando un traductor de todos modos! Así que hay!" Cherry Pimiento screamed, and then threw a plate at the wall behind Prince Jacob.
"Cherry calm down! We didn't come here to fight." The Prince tried to edge around the room to her, dodging thrown objects as they came. "Please, be rational!"
"Espero que expiran!"
"Please, Cherry... I need you now."
My heart froze.
The Prince found an opening and closed the gap between himself and the spicy pepper. Arms wrapped around her, and lips embraced hers. I looked away, and sipped my cocoa. Finding myself annoyed and angry, I left the room into the dining room. 
What did I really expect to happen?

As the night waned, I found myself unable to still my heart. Oh, for such a man! Yet, he now lay with Cherry Pimiento, that spicy pepper woman. What misfortune! Woe is me. 
Standing on the balcony, over-looking a moonlit valley, I sighed. Some bothersome situation I find myself in. Yet, the ideal world is a fantasy for ones such as me.
As I stood there, arms leaning on the railing, I was completely offguard when a pair of slender arms wrapped around my waist.
Could it be him? No. Slender arms. What was this? I jumped, and pulled away to the side.
"Who is it?" I inquired. To my further surprise, no one was there.
Snooping into my designated bedroom, a candle in one hand, magic wand in another, I found nothing still. 
"Mayhap I grow truly weary."
Retiring for my bed, and putting out the candle, I found sleep impossible. Yet, I closed my eyes and tried anyhow. As time crawled by, I was starting to drift. Something silky and cold as ice pressed against my lips, springing me back awake.
There, hovering above me, was a spirit. It is no joke I write. A ghostly form was there. Mostly transparent, though caught the moonlight eeriely at the edges. It was impossible to see and distinct features, though it was certainly a humanoid shape. 
There were no eyes, though I could tell it was looking into my own eyes.
Petrified, I laid there. What more could I do? The spectre was hanging inches above me. Virtually pinning me in place.
"What are you?" I found myself asking.
The spirit jolted up into the air a few feet, as if frightened.
"Wait... Are you a ghost?"
At once the spectre tilted it's head in perplexion, and regarded the mirror on the wall. There was no reflection. Understandably, the ghost disappeared in fear.
For hours, I could not sleep. After some time, I leapt from my bed and hid.

"Welcome back to the land of the living!" hailed the familiar voice of Prince Jacob. 
Craining my neck, I saw the towering frame of the Prince.
"Urg..." I managed to say. My body ached all over.
"Silly goose, what are you in there for, anyhow?" the Prince asked.
"I'm in... In?" Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I found myself sleeping on the closet.
"Aye, you goose. Come on, we're leaving."
The Prince lent me a hand, and hoisted me to my feet. After a pause, I came out of the closet, blushing slightly.
Outside, we found Cherry Pimiento's carriage waiting for us. One glace into my eyes told her something. 
Prince Jacob had already climbed on board. 
"You will not give me any competition," she said to me. 
"What ever do you mean?" I asked, watching Jacob close the door.
"The Prince is mine, little Wizard. I can see your feelings for him. Stay away from him, understood?"
"I don't have feelings for him," I laughed. "We're old friends."
"You cannot lie to me," she announced stiffly. " I see everything about you. You will have to come out eventually. When you do, leave the Prince out of it."

The carriage came to a halt. Beside us, a rustic port town of Fishnchips lay out. The citizens were milling about in a seemingly routine hubbub. Fishers sang together in unison, some sailor shanty. A stiff-looking school teacher led a line of children to the schoolyard, like a goose followed by gosslings. The town mayor was cutting the ribbon to a new canned sardine plant, and there was a newspaper boy selling fresh press from Chocolate City.
Popping off the carriage, the Prince pulled on his suspendors and took a deep breath. Ignoring the fact Cherry was expecting him to help her down, he wandered into town, leaving Cherry to fall straight in the mud.
Hastily, I helped her up, and retrieved her many bags. 
Near the docks, we came to a tavern named the Vinegar Keg, famous for their fried fish and chips. Fancy that.
Lucky, there was a room available. It was easy to find at the top of the stairs above the bar, where below there were no customers. Perfect place to lay low for a while.
After paying the rental for our first few nights, I hauled all of Cherry's bags to our room.
To my surprise, there was only one bed. One bed... This would not do.
Returning to the barkeep, I inquired about further lodgings or bigger rooms. However, there were no others. It was peak fishing season, and we were evidently lucky enough to find what we had.
Reluctantly, I again resided to our shared room. Exhausted from our long travel, I found myself under the covers, sleeping without fuss.
When I woke again, it was from the noise. Our door had burst open, and from the sound of it, the Vinegar Keg was in full swing. At the door, I saw my Prince lip locked with Cherry, who he had in his arms. Tossing her on the bed, without effort, she landed straight on me, and was perhaps too drunk to notice. Nonetheless, the wind had been knocked from me, and I could scarcely breath, let alone call out in protest.
Before I knew it, the load got all the heavier when Jacob leaped on top. At that point, I seemed to have blacked out. Though, on waking, I felt violated somehow. The night before seemed like a dream. Or nightmare.

The next morning, and for that matter the day that followed, I pointedly avoided the Prince and Ms Pimiento. Staying now at the breakfast shack on a warf, I swilled some coffee and poked at some eggs. The previous night had been a wretched experience to be sure, though it certainly cleared my mind of dillusions of grandeur with Jacob.
As I swallowed the soothing java, my eyes drifted down the warf to a ship. There were many men slaving away at moving boxes, emptying lobster cages and the likes of fisherman duties. It was then that I spied the flicker of an image. Almost as if my eyes made it vanish, though probably a trick of the light.
Thinking nothing of it, I finished up breakfast and left town. Up the road from town, there was a dark forest, ripe full of target process. There, I spent the day weaving the fabric of magic energy to cast Cupcake spells on the local spiders and critters. By dinner, I was famished. 
Leaving the forest, I found there was a familiar figure watching me. It was... That ghost. Had it followed me? What did it want? Clearly seeing it for a second time, I found I was less threatened and more curious. 
"Hello?" I asked.
Sheepishly, the spirit waved to me.
"I won't hurt you this time, if you promise to keep your distance."
At this the ghost loomed and watched me. No change in its continence.
"Okay. Can you speak?"
The ghost reluctantly shook its head.
I hadn't expected any other answer. So, this puzzle would truly be tricky. "I'm going to grab a bite to eat. Would you care to join me?"
It appeared as if the creature took on a slight red glow. It sheepishly nodded.

We returned together into Fishnchips, where I spotted in the evening light, a small, out-of-the way spaghetti restaurant. 
"Good evening, Monsiur. Alwayz a pleasure to cater to the Marshmallow Wizardz of zee world! 'Ow may I help you?"
"Table for two, please," I said.
"Oui, Monsiur. Zis way." 
The waiter bowed slightly, lifting to his tip toes, before tilting visibly to turn. When he walked, his feet barely left the ground, giving him a sort of scurrying appearance.
At a small two, seated table at the window, he held out my chair for me. After I had seated, he produced a menu.
"Shall Monsiur be 'aving wine zis evening?"
"Yes, thank you. Pardon me, but will you be holding my partner's chair as well?"
The waiter looked slyly around. After a moment when he realised I was serious, he moved across the table and held the chair theatrically, before tucking it in. 
"Will Monsiur be expecting any more... Guests?"
"No thank you. And we'll have a bottle of the Jus de raisin vieilli bien."
"With two glasses, non?"
"Oui," I reported. "Merci."
After the waiter had gone, I turned to the spirit, who had seated itself when the waiter unknowingly helped. 
"The problem with hole-in-the-wall restaurants such as this, is that they expect their patrons to arrive in ignorance of their cuisine. For instance, this menu has a rather rude combination of French Toast goose, Unsalted Kingdom Quail, Cheddar Cheese Village Meat Pie... Oh, and look here. Gummy Bear Brisket." Shaking my head at the menu, I added, "Hard to believe they're still trying to sell off that guck."
The ghost seemed to be humming.
"Do you eat?" I wondered, in vain. Of course, the spirit shook its head 'no'. "Naturally. Would you rather go do something else?"
Another 'no'.
"It is rather a upsetting you can't talk. Is there some other way we can communicate?"
In reply the spirit merely stared. Not much help, that. 
The waiter returned just then. "'Ave you made a selection, Monsuir?"
"Yes, my good man. I'll have the spaghetti and meatballs. Evidently, my companion has no appetite."
The waiter looked around as if concerned. At length, he said, "Very good, Monsuir."
When he had gone, I resumed my study of the spirit. In this lighting, it was considerably easier to see. It had a balloon sort of head, with a sort of half-empty balloon for a body. It had two arms, and no legs. It just ended like a dollup of whipped cream.
"Are you from around these parts?" I resumed.
A 'no'.
"Why have you followed me?" After rethinking this wording, I tried again. "Is there a reason you're following me?"
This got me a blush.
"Hmm... Is there something you need me to do?"
It shrugged.
"How--er... How did you die? No... Did you die recently?"
A 'no'.
"A long time ago?"
Another 'no'.
This caught me as odd. "Are... you dead?"
Yet again, 'no'.
Revelation came at a bad time, as the waiter returned.
"Monsuir, Jus de raisin vieilli bien. Zis year is quite good. 1720. Iz zis acceptable?"
"Most."
After politely waiting for our host to pour one glass, reluctantly a second glass, and finally for him to leave, I continued to prod.
"If you are not dead... Are you alive?"
The spirit managed to pick up the glass of wine, and peered inside it. Before trying to take a drink. I half expected the liquid to flow straight through onto the seat. Yet, instead, it seemed to rest inside, as if filling up the balloon shapes.
"A spirit for the spirit... Fascinating."
My spaghetti arrived, to much fanfare. Spaghetti and meatballs. To top it off, a couple of portly chefs came out of the kitchen to sing a love ballad to me and my companion as a joke. 
Yet, when they arrived, they saw the wine glass emptying itself into an invisible blatter. In unison with the waiter, followed soon by the other restaurant patrons, they screamed, "Gha-gha-gha-gha-Ghost!" before stampeding out the door. Some went through the wall, leaving man-shaped holes.
Looking across the table, I saw my new acquaintance turning to leave. 
"Wait... Don't go..." I pleaded. However, it was too late. The spirit had left through the wall, leaving the wine splattered into the wallpaper.

That old familiar sting, came when I heard the Prince and his harlet barging into the room. This time, I had carefully made sure to be in a position I could easily roll out of bed, and leave. 
This borish routine had lasted all week. It was counter productive to our wallet, and left our problems in Chocolate City plenty of time to catch up. 
When I exited the room, unnoticed by the two lovers, I found the busy tavern below a welcome change. At the bar, I found myself a milkshake. From my magical senses, I felt some stabbing glares in the back of my head. There were at leave fifteen people staring at me.
Regardless, I began to sip on the milkshake. 
How much longer would that man keep us cooped up in this town? Who were those Mask of Unagi people?
Why had the Prince dragged me into this mess? 
From here, I could hear the love making above. Everyone could. It was abnoxious and loud. 
She made her fair share of noise too, though not so much as the Prince.
His manly grunts came like a charging bull. There was no ignoring them. Without meaning to, I found myself listening to the pair of them, in particular him. Oh, how I hated him. So manly, and abbrasive and, and, and--oh who am I fooling? There's no denying my feelings, yet how they hurt! Blast him.

On the boat, my mind wandered. We had chartered this vessel to cross into the New World, on our way to Unagi. It was a galleon, I was told. Though, frankly all these boats were the same. Deathtraps that wobbled too much. Meals were to be what fish could be caught, or potatoes. The captain of this ship was a ferocious-looking red-haired man with a grim scar down his face where one eye had been cut out, and most prominent of all was the massive hook in place of his left hand.
They called him Captain Rice.
When Captain Rice said jump, the crew tried to out-jump one another. What a crew it was too! Anything from an apple to a pirahna seemed to sail with this ship.
We were to arrive in Jombalya City in a fortnight, according to the ship's fisherman, Mister Jamm. Such speed would be most useful. While the assassins of the Mask of Unagi failed to report the Prince's death, gave our window of opportunity ever smaller. The wasted days in Fishnchips certainly stunted our flight as well. No thanks to Jacob there.
It was nearing nightfall, so I retired to the cabins below for some much needed rest. Lo and behold what overly expected surprise should await? The lovers thrashing about on their bed, evidently enjoying this rough ocean. The strain of the waves made their actions more forceful in nature, and though I only saw this at a glance, I regretted the mental image well into my slumber.

Was it all they did? My brain was at the breaking point. Day in, and day out. Sex, sex, sex!
It was as if the Prince expected to be dead by the end of our journey, or perhaps that was exactly it. He and Cherry Pimiento never seemed to leave the comfort of their quarters, pausing only during meal times, when their meals were brought to them. To make matters worse, I was given a closet of a room next to theirs, fitted with a hammock to sleep in. The headboard of their bed competed with the waves at thumping the boat whenever I attempted to fall asleep. 
Sex. It never ended. I began to wonder if they were chaffing.

There was only one shower on the giant ship, though, I suppose any shower is a blessing. It was an ingenious invention, truly. There was a intake valve on the front of the ship which fed into a boiler room. From there, a water distillery system used the boiler room's head to purify the water, and heat pressure was used to funnel this water to the shower and two bathrooms. When it was purified in the boiler room, the water would fill a resevoir for the shower room. It gave the crew a ten minute shower. Plenty of time for a sailor previously accustomed to no shower at all. Greenrot had become a thing of the past!
At least on Captain Rice's galleon.
When I pulled the string for a fresh spray of water, my straw body was cleansed of the filthy rootbeer sodawater that splashed me on deck. While I could bare a voyage being slightly filthy, I preferred to remain unsticky. On my skin, it would have been mildly annoying. With my straw body, the sticky rootbeer was as adhesive as glue! 
It was a remarkable experience, showering on a ship. Despite understanding the mechanics, thanks to a lengthy tour by the ship's engineer, Mr Mop, the relief of the heat and steam was still like a dream.
Steam built up in the shower room, swirling around me. 
And though the room was hot and delightful, I suddenly found myself chilled. Spinning around to find the cause of this draft, I instead found my spirit friend hovering beside me. Dumbfounded by the spirit's presense, and overjoyed at seeing it again, I was stuck for words. 
The spirit seemed to move closer toward me, and before I could react, I felt the spirit's icy touch run up and down my arm. 
The spirit again held my gaze without eyes. What was this? What was happening here?
Suddenly, an apple barged into the shower room. "Your time 'az long passed. If you would please make way, I 'ave salsa seagull dropping on my 'ead."
"Ah!" I exclaimed, and I saw the spirit had vanished. "One moment!"

In the waiting chamber of the baroness's mansion, we sat miserably being greeted by a tiny, overly affectionate dog. One of those fluffy Doufulu dogs with more hair than body. Personally, I found them repulsive. However, Cherry Pimineto found nothing but joy with this creature.
"Oh, ooza sweet widdle pubby? Oh ooza sweet widdle pubby?" she kept repeating. The little doufufu was was wagging it's stub of a tail so hard, its entire hindquarters were rocking back and forth.
"Yap! Yap!" it screamed.
"Explain to me again, what exactly it is you wish to obtain by seeing me," said the Baroness, sipping her tea.
We were in her sitting room, only the Prince stood. By the mantle place, Jacob was looking at his teeth in a spoon. "Simple, madam. I am the prince of Popcornia. These are my loyal companions, and we require safe passage across the New World."
"Really?" asked the Baroness, taking another sip. I began to realise that she only drank her tea after speaking, and when she sipped it was a long-drawn, noisy sound.
"Yes, really. Do you doubt my heritage?" demanded the Prince.
"Do you indeed come from Popcornia?" the Baroness inquired, before sipping.
"Yes!"
"The same Popcornia that sent very little aid to the colony here when we came up against the Samosan Savages?" Another sip.
"That is a bloody lie," growled the Prince. "My father sent many support packages to the colony front! If you have a beef with our support, mayhap you turn your anger to Queen Matignon who has done naught to help any!"
I knew this was a lie. Long ago, Queen Matignon was allegidly killed by a servant girl. Though, I wondered then if Jacob bothered keeping up with actual politics.
"Please, do not insult my country," the Baroness scouled, taking a quick sip of tea. "Our country received nothing, except mouldy crackers from Popcor nia, and that was the paramount contribution from the Unsalted Kingdom."
"Hold your tongue, Baroness. You do not have a country. All of this belongs to the homeland. Do not stake claim to what is not yours. When we arrived, I came to ask for kind charity. Now, we shall simply take what is ours," announced the Prince. "You will ready a carriage with two of your fastest horses. Along with a couple weeks worth of food."
"Do you honestly believe I would comply with such brazen assumptions. I am the Baroness of this settlement. It would be in your best interest to refrain from such foul manners, sir!"
"That's 'Sire', peasant. It would be in your best interest to follow my instructions. Lest I turn my Marshmallow Wizard loose. Did you know that fire is the first spell taught to them? It would be a shame if everything you worked for in this New World would suddenly turn to ash," said the Prince in a mocking sympathetic voice, while he leaned threateningly over the Baroness' chair.
"Can we take this little bow-wow, too?" Cherry asked, cuddling the Doufufu.
"You cannot barge in here, unannounced and just take anything you wish!" the Baroness stood up to shout this, but the Prince placed his large hands on her shoulders and forced her back down again.
Nodding to the world at large, the Prince said, "Yes, actually. We can."
"Ooza wooza woozie?" Cherry asked.
"Yap yap!" the little fluffy dog said, licking the gypsy's face.

While our carriage crossed the desert of appleseeds, my mind drifted. We were less comfortable than ever here. Not only had the carriage horses been nearly run into the ground, we had angered a tour of New World soldiers, run afoul of some cowboys, irked Samosan Savages, apparently threatened a pair of Jalapenos, and most lately stolen from a travelling minstril group.
There were no showers in the New World. It seemed the people here had come accustomed to their own filth. That or they took a bath once a week in the rivers. Wildlife here never ceased to amaze me either. The wolves, bears, deer, coyotes, armadillos, and eagles were everywhere. Such savage beasts we could only dream of at home. If the bearclaw from Walnut Rock back home had come here, it would scarcely survive a confrontation with an otter.
As the cold embrace of night rolled by, we found ourselves at a river baring our path. Though this served as a problem for now, we decided to take the night and rest. In the dead of night, I proded my self-weaved fire, and thought roughly for what was probably the fiftyith time, 'Why did I continue to follow this brute?'
The embers glowered ominously while I began to slip into the 7th Sense. The world around me was crystal clear now. I understood all of it. The only bothersom bit was the rocking carriage beside me. Yet, now that I noticed it, I couldn't help turn my attention away. Instead, my Inner Eye easedropped on their lovemaking. 
The feelings of unrest that had been mounting inside me came forward at last. It was clear. I hated him. Not a mild disdain, it was to his core. Had I confused hatred for a growing infatuation? There was no denying my attraction to him anymore. Try as I may. Despite it all, I loathed this man!
Why, why, why was I still trailing behind like a puppy? Could it be, my own indecision on my feelings held me docile at his side? 
Breaking free of this overwhelming thought, my Inner Eye flared up. Suddenly I saw lines. Lines everywhere! As if the entire world was held up by strings. They were all bright, glowing blue. All of them--except for one. It came from the carriage. A thick, purple and black string. 
What did it mean? Was I truly seeing in the 7th Sense? As soon as I heard my own internal question, the lines vanished. 
Searching franticly around me, there were no more lines anywhere! As my Inner Eye quested around the world near me, I spotted no lines though I did see a familiar figure. It was the man in the suit. I had seen him long ago. He was near me. Opening my eyes properly, I saw him... The spirit that had been following me. He and the suited man were one and the same? What did it mean? All our encounters? Why was he following me? What a funny question to ask when I had just asked it of myself. Did this creature... Like me? 
Could it be?
"Hello again," I ventured. 
The spirit waved in return, timidly holding one arm with the other.
"It's good to see you again," I continued, receiving a rosey blush from the creature. 
Clearly, this creature followed me as I followed Jacob. It had a crush, and somehow our destiny was intertwined! At once, I found myself reeling through my encounters in the past. How could I not see it?

As the spirit hovered above me, the once timid, docile creature seemed to take on a presence of domination. It pressed me to the ground, and hovered inches above. As in our very first meeting.
Gulping, I asked, "H-how have you been?"
My body felt weak, as the spirit sank down on me. It maintained the icy-cold touch as always. Yet, my cheeks grew bright red when the thing pressed against my lips. The chill was no longer there, and my body seemed to carry itself into the 7th Sense. 
Now, it was the man in the suit above me. The strings were again in the world, yet ours were tangled now. Twisted into each other.
Peering with my Inner Eye into his, I began to feel a warm glow inside that I hadn't felt in a long time.
It was a feeling of yearning. Though, unlike the yearning I had felt towards Jacob, this was returned to me. The feeling bounced between us like a tennis ball. I saw now that he too was blushing. Slowly, I hoisted myself up on my elbows, and kissed the man in the suit. He was beautiful.

The core purpose of the Marshmallow Wizardry's Level 2 entry exam -- or in short, the straw body -- was self-discovery. If a Wizard could find him or herself during the exam, which was take over the summer break, then they would be welcome to return at the next semester. If not, then the Wizard would be returned to their natural forms and sent on their way. Without truly knowing oneself, a Wizard is far too dangerous to be entrusted with great powers. 
Either way, when the discovery of self is realised, the Wizard is returned to his or her original body. It was Cherry Pimiento who alerted me to this fact.
"Oh! Jacob! Jacob! There's someone out there!" she yelled from the carriage door. 
At once I sprang to life, with my Malt Eagle feather held at the ready. Behind me, I heard Jacob barging to the carriage door and into the open. "Where?" he demanded. And then noticed, "Good gourmand! Grey Poupon, is that you?"
"Yes, of course," I said irritably. "I've been here all night, as you surely recall?"
"My word, are you the Marshmallow Wizard we've been hauling around?" he laughed. "Good Gravy, what are the odds?"
Turning, I meant to yell at him, though the weight of turning stopped me. I weighed something. Looking down, I noticed my skin. Skin everywhere. That's right. I was Grey Poupon. Earl of Popcornia... My life before straw had somehow become hidden in my own mind. Now I could remember everything! The Prince and I had been childhood friends. We ran around meadows and pretended to slay dragons. Then one day he had to go to the Food Fight... When he returned, Jacob had changed. I remember at one point, for the longest time, he had gone to live with his mother in Cheddar Cheese Village. By the time he had returned, Jacob had changed even more. The once mature and stable man war had forged, was turned into a self-loathing womanizer. Suddenly, our adventure to this point in time came crashing down on me. 
"Do you have some spare pants?" I asked briskly, trying to hide my face and body. When given a garb to throw on, I wandered away, despite the call of laughter and mirth coming from the Prince.
In a few months, I had fallen in love and then hate with that man. Me! Earl Grey! What sort of sinful scandal had I stepped into with that straw body? And last night, I had kissed a man! A ghost of a man, but a man nonetheless! This was not done. What would the people at home say, if they found out?
I knew of course exactly what they'd say. "Hang him by the neck!" There'd be a mob. A 50/50 raffle. All the sort of thing one expects from kitchen-going citizens.
At the end of my march, my feet had carried me to a rocky crop of land that dropped off into a gully where pine trees lined the northern end. A river fed through the valley, where a family of Glazed Bearclaws fished. Not far along the rocky crop I stood, a Malting Bald Eagle came to perch on a dead tree. This simple sight calmed me.
Regardless what anyone thought at home. I now knew who I truly am.

After freezing the river so our carriage could move along carefree, I sat up front to steer while the lovers retired to the inner carriage. For a time, we ambed onwards. We came to a steady incline. The world here was heading up. This came as no news. I had been watching the mountains grow closer for two days. Here they were.
As fabulous as it was to be comfortable in my own skin, so to speak, the return of my nervous system made this area especially dreadful. Powdered icing swished by. An icing storm was brewing. There were sprinkles crashing down too.
This butter cold seemed to rip at my skin, since the Prince had few items for me to wear, and my own wizarding robes were lost long ago. The idea then came to me to employ a Cupcake fireball as a portable campfire. What I needed was a way to contain it... Looking around, I found nothing useful. Except for Cherry Pimiento's folded flan ashtray. 
If only there was a spell for this... 
"Of course!" I said. Seating the ashtray beside me, I carefully weaved a fireball into the ashtray and followed it swiftly with a time-bubble Kipper spell. The bubble froze the flames into the ashtray, but it still gave off heat. Fascinating!
Now that I was comfortable, I came to notice the spirit's presence. Hovering beside me, there was a shy hopefulness to the creature. Reading the spirit's emotions with my Inner Eye had become a simple matter by now. Still our strings were tied together. 
On my shoulder, I felt a tentative cold hand press against me. To which I pulled free from.
"We need to talk," I said. Feeling at once guilt mount up. "I am... Real. You know? I think you're great... But you're a ghost!" 
The spirit seemed to grow colder, and yet hadn't moved closer.
"I hate to say this, especially after... Everything. I don't think we feel the same way about this." My stomach turned as I spoke. "Now that I'm a human again... My mind is not so clouded. I feel a strong connection between us, but also that you seem to be feeling something more. Does that make sense? I'm really sorry to do this. Really. I see in my soul that you're amazing and handsom. But, you're just not the one for me."
The whole carriage became icy to sit on and my frozen flame went out. Before I realised what I had done, the spirit flew away, taking its string with it.

Everyone was dressed in their sundae best. The kitchen was decorated in marzipan. At the counter, the chef stood with his recipe book opened to a ribbon-marked page. I had stood beside Jacob on his father's side. We were apparently his 'Best Little Men'. Beside Jacob stood his older brother who had died during Food Fight 2, and a man dressed in seven layers of armour. 
Standing across the way was Jacob's mother's wedding party. To this day, I did not recognize them. 
When the Baking March began, the pews of people stood up, and turned to watch the double swinging kitchen doors expectantly. As we had expected, they opened. Making way for the King of Popcornia. His well-kept buttery beard framing his pale white face. When the royal purple robes and cape had ascended to the counter, the song on the organ turned to Here Comes the Meal. Presently, the doors opened. Two servants held them open, and in walked a woman dressed in white.
Instantly, the whispers began. "Who does she think she is?" "Is she honestly wearing white?" "The nerve of a woman like her." "I heard she sold her recipes for rent money." "I heard the she birth Prince Jacob out of wedlock." "Can you believe the amount of ingredients she used on her face?" "Look at her nose. Can you believe someone like her would be marrying the King?" "Once a Cheese, always a Cheese." "I bet she'll only last a month until she cheats on him." "A whole month? I bet a week!"
All the while, the Queen-to-be had to slowly walk up the isle. Her eyes darting to and fro at while the crowds scrutinized her.
At the kitchen counter finally, Jacob's mother finally stood shakily beside the King. 
"We are gathered here together to unite these two in lawful matrimony," announced the chef when the organ music had finally ended. "Any who wish to dispute this recipe may speak so now, or forever hold their peace."
"This is a recipe for disaster!" hissed an ugly middle-aged woman. "She has baked your seed out of wedlock! The pair of them should be drowned! They will sow the doom of our universe!"
"Guards! Remove that witch," the King shouted.
As guards tried to haul the old witch away, she broke free of their grip and cursed, "On the twenty year of her son's life, his heart will shatter into a million pieces, never to be mended!"
"Remove her at once!" the King bellowed.
Weeping now, Jacob's mother ran out the side door leading out of the kitchen.
"Ulma!" protested the King.
"Mommy?" Jacob worriedly called.
"An ill day for Popcornia," said the man wearing seven layers of armour.