"Pull!" Erin directed us. We pulled.

"Argh, it's no use!" Ted lamented. "He's never getting unstuck."

Paul's head and chest might as well have been fastened to the tree by some kind of industrial-strength Krazy glue.

"Dammit," Erin said, winded. Even the three of us, with our combined strength, had no hope of dislodging our companion. "Whose idea was it to bring that stuff to our picnic, anyway?" she demanded, scowling at the wicker basket full of the white adhesive.

No one said anything. In truth, we'd all agreed, even Paul and Erin. We thought we needed it to keep the table secure. Now we knew that we hadn't known what we were dealing with. The powers of the white stuff was something no mortal could ever hope to harness.

I sat down, defeated. "We shouldn't have played God," I said, regretting this entire picnic.

"Well, look on the bright side," said Ted. "At least now we know it isn't safe. Better Paul than us. Look, he even enjoys it."