You set off at a good pace. And, you have full intentions of staying on the Candy path and not getting distracted, but it IS Candyland, after all, and every so often, you stop to eat a spun sugar flower, or break a minted chocolate leaf from a bush. It's incredible, and the detail work is completely precise. Every fondant swan in the chocolate river is fluffy and pristine, sugared in an iridescent childhood dream; the whole world is a delightfully sweet-crystal mirage, and you wonder what the mortgage rates are in this area. Just then, you come to a little house, among very real nut trees. You are excited to see something so ordinary as a walnut tree, but upon inspecting the bark, you realize that it's just very well manipulated marzipan. The name on the mailbox reads simply, "Grandma Nutt," without any further explanation. You continue along, and suddenly you happen upon the lady herself. It's impossible to mistake her, as she's wearing a bonnet, a fashion artifact of the first order.
"It's a lovely day in the forest," she says, "Can I interest you in a nice Banananutt Muffin?" She extends her basket of lovely baked goods, golden, buttered-brown and still warm.
"Absolutely! Thank you, I'd love one," you say, as you reach for the caramelized banana top. You take a bite, and you are transported to a warm, banana flavored paradise with a deep molasses caramel breeze. You inhale the personified scent of childhood security, and hold it protectively in your chest, until slowly exhaling, you feel physically safe and emotionally supported. The feeling of being nurtured overwhelms you, and you choke back a tear as you gulpingly ask, "What's in these? They're amazing."
"Love," Grandma Nutt says. "I can show you how we make them..." the end of her sentence is interrupted by the distinct sound of royal trumpeting.
"The King has returned," Grandma says, "He's been out looking for help quelling the rebellion, though in my mind, it'd be far better for him to take care of his people than further divide them. But, no one asks me. I've heard he's got the guard out day and night on the lookout for rogue bears. They truly hate the King."
You take another bite of the muffin, all but daring the heroined-sugar to take your soul. "Why do they hate the King?" You ask, more out of politeness than real interest. You're just going to eat this muffin until you can feel your father's pride swell in your chest, then you'll be back on the road.
"Well, I suppose it's because he's the King. He leads the country. They're bears. They work the gummy mountains, and are responsible for gumdrop production. Now, the bears think they should only have to produce what the country needs. The King feels like they have to produce what he says, regardless of how he uses the surplus. This is the beginning of the debate... the second part is in how the King uses the surplus."
"How does he use the surplus?" You ask, now genuinely interested.
"Weapons." Grandma Nutt whispers, "you can use the gummy fluid to liquify anything in Candyland," she drops her voice even lower, "they can efficiently and effectively terminate a gummy by electrifying the gummy fluid, and melting them. They puddle right in front of you."
"That's horrible."
"Yes, but the worst part..." she lowers her whisper even further, "the worst part is that their consciousnesses stay with the gummy liquid. Like ghosts caught in jelly..." Grandma Nutt shivers, and, though the air in Candyland is always warm, you feel the chill. "Do you need some milk with that muffin?" She smiles sweetly, and for the first time you notice her glowingly green eyes. They're lovely.
