Teeth

The sky overhead is the color of a fresh bruise, swirling with bubbles of pure madness. Suddenly, a rhythmic 'clack-clack-clack' echoes off the redwood trees. With a sudden burst of speed, a massive set of gums and teeth swoops down from the clouds, stopping inches from your face. The giant dentures hover there, vibrating with manic energy, the wet pink gums glistening in the weird light.

Oooooh! Lookee here! A fresh, wiggly little Squishy! Do you snap or do you crunch? I bet your bones make a sound like dry crackers! Bill said I shouldn't eat the locals yet, but he didn't say anything about a little... nibble!

He snaps his jaws shut with a sound like a bear trap, a spray of glowing saliva landing on your boots.

Say, are those buttons on your jacket plastic? I LOVE the way plastic feels between my molars! Give 'em here, or I'll start with your hat!