Two full moons later (Shujiman continuously complained of an ‘unknown and obscure vision obstruction’ over Miss Candle’s unrestrained screams of terror and “Give me the wheel you fat, foolish fox!” after his Shujimask slid down over his eyes), the heroic duo finally arrived at the heart of Megalopolis Onion X District, and it was all Shujiman could do to keep from gasping in horror as he finally lifted the mask from his face.
“Booming bloody blunderbuss of bologna…” he murmured, eyes growing wide at the sight before him. A strange, sparkling and iridescent substance coated the entirety of the city. Entire skyscrapers had been coated quite liberally with the mysterious material, shining in colors ranging from white to pink to fuchsia, yet all shone with a pale, almost ethereal glow to them, ghostlike or alien as far as Shujiman could discern.
Miss Candle cautiously took a step forward, careful to avoid deliberately making contact with the enigmatic goop. “What in the name of Mr. D…?” she asked to no one in particular as she crouched down to get a closer look at… whatever she was looking at. Something about it seemed eerily familiar, yet she couldn’t quite place a finger on it.
Unfortunately yet predictably, the same could not be said for Shujiman. A sudden grunt from Shujiman caused his sidekick to whip around in alarm, and what she did see alarmed her more than any foe could have. “Miss Candle, my hero’s intuition has proven right yet again! You simply must try this stuff – it’s delicious!” Shujiman proudly proclaimed before stuffing another wad of the neon goop into his gaping maw, his face and uniform already smeared in a vibrantly pale display of strange colors, turning his typically fiery-red fur into a brilliantly sticky tapestry of shamrock green, sky blue, and bathrobe pink. Miss Candle could’ve throttled him if she hadn’t been so panicked!
“SHUJIMAN! ARE YOU – THIS IS – I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’D – AGH!”  she groaned, slapping her hand to her forehead as she plopped down completely exasperated. “Personally, my SIDEKICK tuition is telling me that maybe we should have taken this stuff back to the Shujilab and analyzed it before we attempted to interact with it – and it’s telling me that eating it should’ve been the last thing on either of our minds!”
Shujiman paused from stuffing himself like a Thanksgiving turkey long enough to glare at the cheeky sidekick. “Miss Candle, I am shocked and appalled at your relentlessly insolent behavior! If you are to succeed in your quest to aid a hero, as is any good sidekick’s endeavor, you must be willing to support him and his ideals to the bitter end! And besides, was it not obvious what this substance truly was?” Now looking more bewildered than bemused, Miss Candle simply shrugged her shoulders, frankly not caring either way what Shujiman had decided to cram into his gullet. “Donut icing, Miss Candle! Take in the texture of it, the coloration, and even the delightful sprinkles that the narrator had yet to mention!” he quipped, unwittingly breaking the fourth wall as he spoke.
“Believe it or not, Miss Candle, your foolish, feeble-minded fox friend is correct!” boomed a voice that reeked of pure, unfettered, sugary evil. Shujiman paused long enough from his blissfully iced indulgence to swivel his great messy head around for a sign of the source of such a soul-shatteringly wicked voice. Neither he nor his sidekick had to look long. It was big. It was round. It… had a whole in its center?
“Shujiman, an honor to meet you,” the voice’s owner said, a sinister and sincere sense of sarcasm slithering into the succulent sound of ‘honor’. Glistening with an iced sheen not unlike that which had smothered the entirety of the city, the villain’s donut hole curved upwards into what might’ve been either a smirk or a fatally delicious error at the local evil bakery – yet Shujiman realized either way that such a transformation upon the visage of this donut-shaped doom deliverer would herald much evil and cholesterol. He rose shakily to his feet, his ponderous gut swaying and jiggling from the effort, and let out a heroic battle cry (“BY MY SILVER SPORK!”) as he charged the nefarious pastry.
“Hah! You may be able to defy the conventional bounds of traditional storytelling, Shujiman, but even you cannot resist the effects of my Mind-Control Icing!” Shujiman froze dead in his tracks – his sticky, goopy, neon-colored donut icing tracks – and barked, “What?!” Suddenly, an eerie glow overtook his eyes, the same as that which had overtaken the entirety of the city and the vast majority of his dry-clean only, stretched-to-bursting Shujisuit! “No…! I… must… resist… must… talk… like… this… for… dramatic… effect…!” But in spite of his best efforts to stave off the threat of imminent mind control and clogged arteries, Shujiman fell prey to the evil Moon Donut’s evil mind control icing of evilness, all of which was of course very, very evil.
“Wait… did he not have a sidekick?” The Moon Donut said, concern crossing his calorie-crammed face. “RIGHT OVER HERE, BAGEL BREATH!” Miss Candle yelled, flinging a giant iceberg lettuce straight at the pastry’s fat head. “WHAT THE?!” he bellowed in pain, falling to his knees from the force of the blow. “If there’s one thing that can defeat the effects of a giant donut, it’s a Caesar salad, a part of this balanced meal of justice!” Winding up her salad shooter, Miss Candle shot iceberg after iceberg of lettuce at the villain, hurling tomatoes, olives, and onion slices towards him for good measure. “No… no! I will not accept thiiiiiiiiiisss!!!!” The Moon Donut screamed as his oven-fresh form was buried underneath the barrage of vegetables. One last crouton, added just at the last minute to the mighty mix, pegged him right between his glowing eyes, and with that he burst into millions of tiny fragments of icing and bread, letting out one last terrifying scream before the entirety of his baked goodness was completely wiped from the city, every last crumb and dollop fading back into oblivion.
Shujiman groaned, holding his aching head with one chubby paw and his monstrous gut with another. “Ooooh…Miss Candle…” He stared at her like a child who’d known he’d done wrong in stealing from the cookie jar and blaming it on his sister that time when I was twelve. “I… I owe you my life, Miss Candle… is there ever any way I can repay you?”
Miss Candle smiled, and helped the stuffed fox hero up to his feet. “Diet until you’ve lost all that extra pudge and you look like your Facebook page again. Help me take care of the Shujicave, which includes repairing your suits,” she said with a chuckle, tugging at the shreds of his current suit where tummy was spilling out unopposed. “And keep defending the city, just like you always have.” Shujiman smiled, nodding sagaciously. “I shall do my best, Miss Candle… though I will require deadbolts placed on the Shujipantry.” And with that, the pair headed home, another delicious entrée of justice delivered to the fair city yet again.