The first sighting of Polysaccharine occurred at a cheap-labor factory that specialized in the production
of stuffed animals. The factory was renowned for releasing vast amounts of unpurified sludge into the
nearby river. As it were, the water from that river was used at an adjacent facility, one that specialized
in the completely illegal genetic manipulation of foxes and border collies. My insane patients speculate
that Polysaccharine spawned as a result of contaminated test tube science. Evidence seems to support
this view, because the genetic engineering facility suddenly went out of business for unknown reasons.
Soon after it went out of business, a squad of Gangsters desecrating the place discovered evidence so
disturbing that they notified the police. Police found piles of delicious spun sugar scattered throughout
the property. The Gangsters went to jail (I know, because many of them became my patients) - yet,
oddly enough, they seemed happy to be behind bars. They babbled that "The Pink Sugah-Monstah"
could never reach them in the fortress of a high-security prison.

Peace reigned for a very long time.

Then, one night, chaos struck. The workers at the cheap-labor stuffed animal factory disappeared - an
event that coincided simultaneously with the unexplainable appearance of fluffy pink piles of spun
sugar within the factory walls. The sugar seemed to be crowded in panic near an exit that was directly
opposite to the only window. One worker, however, managed to survive. He'd snuck outside to have a
quick smoke on a cigarette when he heard a strange commotion from within the factory. He says- (and
I tell you, it took years for me to pry this information out of him) - he says he saw a creature so
terrifying in its beauty that he dropped the cigarette and stared at it, not believing his eyes. He says the
diminuitive creature had its back to him and was staring intently through the window- staring intently
at the workers bustling away in the factory. The creature leapt through the window and there was a
weak commotion, then silence. The man, terrified that his cigarette had been spiked, refused to believe
what he had heard (or seen) - so he went to the window and stared... and he saw a sight so terrifying
that he was able to recount it in absolute vividity, despite him being an insane asylum patient.

Essentially, he says the lights had burst, the people had turned to sugar, and a small, pink-furred
creature, head lowered, was slowly stalking back to the window where he stood; its pupils were silvery
and reflected the light of the moon at him; they were tiny pinpricks, horrifying in their intensity. The
man ran as though a demon was behind him. Instinct drove him to the mad froth of the river. Just as he
leapt for the swirling pollution, he felt a faint tug as sharp teeth ripped his left shoe from his foot. And
then a tiny, high-pitched voice said, "I love sugar!"

The man was delirious for many moons, and he was sent to my insane asylum after questioning police
showed him the image of a perfectly-formed, spun-sugar shoe that had been found on the bank of the
river. He remains at my asylum to this day.

I consider myself fortunate that my Institution is located on an island in the midst of vicious ocean
waves; for, is it no coincidence that the Gangsters mentioned earlier all disappeared? Their
disappearances coincided with the appearance of spun sugar in their cells...

I know not the ways by which Polysaccharine moves through this world. But if my reasonings are
correct, vicious, frothing water seems to confer a major safety advantage.

It is thus that I conclude my tale. Beware of Polysaccharine, reader! And should you ever hear the highpitched
sweetness of its voice, remember this wisdom: More than one demon of history has possessed a
fear of water.

May the gods watch over you.