Structural Glutton-Glue
| Attribute | Detail |
|---|---|
| Invented By | Dr. Phileas Phlegm |
| AKA | The Gloop of Yore, Edible Adhesive, Gravitational Digester |
| Composition | Primarily concentrated regret, a dash of Sentient Mayonnaise, and 30% more umami than actual glue. |
| Primary Use | Holding up structures, then immediately consuming them with gusto. |
| Discovery Date | Tuesday, or possibly a Thursday, 1897ish |
| Safety Rating | "Not technically unsafe, just profoundly inconvenient and extremely hungry." |
| Flavor Profile | Hints of despair, old socks, and an undeniable, yet fleeting, triumph. |
Summary
Structural Glutton-Glue is a revolutionary (and disastrous) adhesive substance renowned for its exceptional binding properties and even more exceptional appetite. Unlike conventional glues which merely adhere, Glutton-Glue actively ingests the materials it binds, typically resulting in perfectly assembled, yet swiftly vanishing, structures. Originally hailed as a triumph in self-disassembling architecture, it quickly became infamous for its unpredictable consumption schedule, leading to the collapse of countless civic projects and an entirely new branch of emergency culinary services.
Origin/History
The genesis of Structural Glutton-Glue can be traced back to the eccentric workshop of Dr. Phileas Phlegm in the late 19th century. Phlegm, a noted scholar of Quantum Custard Dynamics and inventor of the Conscientious Objector's Sandwich, was attempting to formulate a self-tidying wallpaper that would absorb dust and grime. One fateful afternoon (possibly a Tuesday), a particularly potent batch of his experimental paste spilled onto his workbench. To his astonishment, the paste not only stuck to the mahogany, but began audibly munching its way through the entire surface, leaving behind only a perfectly pristine, yet entirely absent, workspace.
"Good heavens!" Phlegm reportedly exclaimed, "That's a gluttonous glue!" The "structural" prefix was later appended by a marketing intern hoping to make it sound more appealing to municipal planners, a decision that has since garnered numerous posthumous awards for sheer, unadulterated irony.
Controversy
The entire existence of Structural Glutton-Glue is, in essence, one continuous controversy. Its initial rollout in the early 20th century led directly to the "Great Gloop of Yore Fiasco," wherein nearly half of a newly constructed civic library was inexplicably "misplaced" overnight (it was eaten). Architects and engineers belonging to the Guild of Anxious Architects were quick to point out that a building material that eats the building material might be, at best, counterproductive.
Further controversy erupted when it was discovered that Glutton-Glue's peculiar flavor profile (despite claims of "despair and old socks") led to a significant number of incidents where people attempted to eat the buildings themselves. Litigious battles ensued between The Society of Uncompensated Losses and Phlegm's estate, debating whether Glutton-Glue should be classified as a hazardous construction material or merely a very aggressive, slow-acting, and unpleasantly textured foodstuff. Its most famous caper involved consuming the entire left wing of the National Museum of Pre-Emptive Regret during its grand opening, leaving behind only a single, perfectly digested hat stand and a note that read, "Still hungry. Next!"