Gone Sour

Confectionery, Niall knew, was a way of life. Little could he have guessed that even as Mr Cavendish sunk his teeth into an Exploding Pineapple Gum, far more _tasteless_ characters were planning much more than a sudden inspection...

At the centre of the cavernous circular chamber, the hooded figure sat atop a throne, painstakingly constructed from shards of jawbreakers stuck together with 'Triffic Truffles' Super-Strong Toffee Paste.

Into the silence shuffled uncertainly a young, beautiful woman, eyes the colour of a perfect apple jelly, shining with fear. Without a word she approached the centre of the hall, balancing a domed dessert platter on the tips of her fingers, and held it out to the shadowy form.

Slowly, the figure lifted the dome, and a gasp escaped from beneath the dark hood.

"He has caramels, chocolates, gummies, hards, liquorice, lollies, sours and gums..."

From long, flowing sleeves, a pale hand emerged to pick up the offering.

A pause.

A bite.

"Oh my, this is it... _The Ninth Candy!_"