“Noooo!” Penelope cried, her bubble, now burst, now hanging limply from her lips. 

“Woo!” Roma popped her own bubble, pulled the whole thing from her mouth, and held it up triumphantly, allowing Troy to dangle loosely from the end. 

“Boo.” Penelope puffed her cheeks. “Oh, get over it.” Roma lifted the sticky string of gum higher so that Troy was swinging at her eye level, “And as for you...ready to get punished?” 

“Uh...” Troy gaped. “Well, I'm gonna do it even if you're not ready.” Roma smirked. She rolled her hands together, quickly collecting the errant gum back into a small wad, tiny Troy now wrapped up in it, his face barely peeking out from its sticky confines, “Ew, ABC gum. Only one place for that.” 

“W-wait!” Troy tried to call out, but he was already being carried outside, loosely gripped in Roma's strong fingers. Out into the warm, summer air, he was suddenly tumbling, until he and his pink cocoon landed on the ground with a soft slap. He looked up and saw the towering form of Roma, Penelope slightly behind her in the doorway. He was on the concrete step on the porch of their house. 

“You're just throwing him out? That's so boring.” Penelope said. 

“No way.” Roma said, “I just didn't want to mess up the rug. Here's where used gum goes.” 

She lifted her titanic sized sneaker and hovered it over Troy. He tried desperately to break free from the rubbery bonds, but it was no use, his limbs were too weak, and buried too deep, to make a dent. “Oooh, seems like he's in bubble trouble now.” Penelope said with a giggle. 

“I'm going to pretend this is you.” Roma rolled her eyes. With a quick, pivoting flourish she lowered her dirty sneaker sole onto the blob of gum, slowly and deliberately flattening it into the ground. The thick, tacky coating spread out as pressure mounted on Troy's little body, squeezing him more and more, but not squishing him entirely. Finally, Roma's foot would go no lower, and she tilted her shoe to admire her handiwork. There, wrapped in a bright pink aura, was Troy, still alive, face barely pushing through its rosy confines. 

“He's not mushed yet!” Penelope clapped. “Yet.” Roma said, “Wanna walk down to the ice cream 

shop?” 

“Oh absolutely, I could kill a sorbet right now.” Penelope said, “What about Troy? Think he'll make it?” 

“Who cares?” Roma snarked, taking a step and driving Troy's defenseless face into the rough cement. In another moment he was soaring, arcing through the air, and then again, crashing into the hard ground. Each step stretched his protective coating closer to its limit, pieces occasionally sticking to the ground and snapping off, until his body was nearly getting the full brunt of his sister's heavy steps. In another few feet...CRUNCH! 

Troy splattered between the sneaker and the ground, leaving a dirty red stain upon the quickly graying splotch of gum adorning his sister's foot.