Turns out Karl was his invention all along.
Different cartoon character, same results.
Survival beyond the watermelon.
“I’ll spill everything,” said Karl to Mrs. Ordinary in her not-so-ordinary hometown of Chapel Vile after the mountainous hike with her aunt to rendezvous with the Ant. “Whaddaya want to know?”
“Thanks for meeting with me. I wasn’t sure — you were my friend still — after last time.”
“Of course I am. Old old water under the bridge. Us *cores* gotta stick together, eh? he he.” He slapped his flabby side to reinforce the healing aspect.
“Yes,” sip. But she couldn’t get the bloodlust scene out of her head.
A broken rib to end, but, like them apparently, it cleaned up nicely. The observing 88’s helped a lot with their prompt calling of the ambulance and police, good custodians both.
Sunklands 