Years later, a young boy named Leo saw the lone red gumball. Feeling pity for the "lonely" candy, he bought it and set it on a park bench. "You're free now," he smiled. The Gumball, unable to understand human speech, saw the smile as a mockery. It lunged, bouncing harmlessly off Leo's cheek. Leo laughed and patted it. That laughter was the final spark.
The Gumball followed Leo home, a tiny shadow dodging cats and cars. Inside Leo's house, it watched the glowing television. A documentary about choking hazards played, showing diagrams of the human throat. The Gumball learned.
That night, it slid into the mouth of the family dog as it slept. The boy's grief the next morning was intoxicating. A few nights later, it did the same to Leo's father. The father's death was ruled an accident, but the suspicious circumstances led to Leo's mother being arrested. The Gumball watched Leo standing alone in the hallway, his world destroyed. This, the Gumball realized, is much better than a quick death.