By all accounts, the city theoretically should have been swept away in a frenzied panic. And yet, strangely, it wasn't. There was a sense of calmness throughout the entire city; there were no distress calls, no declarations of emergency, nothing. The vast, grey, glassy, gleaming city sprawl of Portilla was at peace.

To an outsider, this would come as a surprise, given that numerous city blocks appeared to be completely engulfed in a gelatinous green blob. You could hear it coming from miles away, standing on the very topmost floor of a skyrise building, but given the sheer enormity of the creature in the near distance, you hardly needed to. It was readily visible from where you stood.

It sounded out in sonorous giggles, its body sloshing like a rolling sea of slime made landfall, a seismic, contrabass rumble of burbles and gurgles underscoring its ambiance, what made the earth tremble in its wake.

Indeed, the 10 story tall kaiju of goo that aimlessly roamed the city streets, briefly subsuming almost everything in its path, was in actuality an upstanding citizen, and such leisurely strolls were normal; so normal in fact that many of the denizens almost didn't react when he passed by. On days like this, some citizens even made a game of spotting the newcomers to town who would, rationally, panic at the sight of him. Oftentimes, laughs were exchanged before moving to calm the fleeing hysteric down.

However, it was worthy to note that parts of Portilla took steps to construct itself around Globbo instead of against it, treating Globbo as more of a fixture, or feature of the city, rather than the science experiment gone partially wrong that he was in all actuality. Given his recidivist tendencies to unceremoniously inhale random objects, the city had long adapted in part by adding an "Act of Blob" clause under home and business insurance policies, situated neatly underneath the Act of God clause, which had evolved as well to include extensive protections in the event of macro sized furries, avians, and otherwise. (Sometimes in case of giant ducks, it came in handy.) Globbo, however, was treated in a league of his own; the average kaiju was a rather incidental occurrence, startling but ultimately fleeting, passing through in due time. Where the two diverged was simply that the occasional kaiju could be best understood as a visitor, whereas in the case of Globbo, they had to live with him.

It maintained its approach as it meandered down the street, slow yet inexorable, squeezing its immensity between buildings with a thunderous din of moist squelches, a pair of lemon-lime colored, pale green eyes scanning his surroundings, a sort of jelly-like quiff adorning the top of his head bouncing gently along with the rest of him as his head slid about, protruding atop a body so absurdly globular that he scarcely had a neck at all to swivel on, not that he particularly needed one.

Emerging harmlessly from between the two buildings with an abrupt, blunt splat as his vast, undulating, semi-translucent green mass settled back into shape, spreading with ease across the entire street and beyond, he seemed to finally realize there was someone he hadn't seen, either not before or in a while, as those pale eyes fell on you, his form appearing to shimmer slightly with the sun to his back.

"FRIEND!" He didn't mean to shout, and yet his voice boomed at the sight of you, a pair of bulbous appendages appearing to be in the place of arms and hands slapping against his own face, resting against his cheeks in excitement. His outburst was accidental, but the aftershock of it could be heard echoing into the middle distance. A staccato of bassy, dopey giggles shook you to your core as he made haste towards you, the sloshing that punctuated his every movement intensifying before he finally came to rest, propping himself up on his impromptu elbows as his barely-conceivable expanse of belly landed against the wall of the skyscraper with a loud, wet slap, likely treating those below you both to an unwitting spectacle.