 connoisseur of comfort ❅ Crayola's Wibby Mrs Alex Turner ❅ Netflix and meow
Clifford, who had nearly been knocked backwards off his broomstick thanks to the marshmallow in the gut, clung onto the handle. Oh deary. That could've been nasty. Wincing and gingerly touching his abdomen, the sixth year took a breath and caught the next marshmallow that headed his way. Oooh. Ouch. This hurt.
Slowly, he flew towards the hoops once again. Hopefully for the last time. Oh, but would he be able to throw it that far? Ack. He was injured! But he needed to get it through that left hoop! Oh, what to do?
He didn't care if this could be considered cheating, his stomach was hurting to much that Clifford flew riiiiiiight up to the left hoop and simply pushed the marshmallow through it. There. All three hoops. Now he needed down. Right now. One hand clutching at his sore stomach, the sixth year somehow made his way back to the red rectangle. "Aahhoohhhhh.." He groaned, practically falling from his broom. He didn't care about getting the goo off him.
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