He always kept his slime immaculate. Never a speck of dirt. Or dust. Nothing but pure, sweet slime. He had always claimed that imperfections messed up his motor skills. Having to maneuver around the little bits floating in him and such. Knowing the company he kept, it was only a matter of time before he ended up in a mess like this. He had carelessly fallen into a big, deep bog of thick, oozey mud. Almost immediately, his clean, untainted slime had begun to absorb the sludge, making his hips swell out, only slightly slowing his inevitable submergence. He would have stretched or oozed his way out, but the mud mixing in with him made him sloppy, hard to control or even keep shape, as bits of him started to plop off from being too heavy. Slowly he sank deeper and deeper, knowing he would never be able to be as clean as he once was.. If he was ever able to resurface...