Spectator competition winners: Toe-curling analogies

In Competition No. 3274, you were invited to supply toe-curling analogies.

Bad writing has attracted some high-brow fans. J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis revelled in the overwrought prose of the ‘uniquely dreadful’ Amanda Kittrick Ros, and used to take it in turns to read aloud from her work to see which of them could last longer without laughing. Some competitors accompanied their entries with apologetic notes, commiserating with me for having to judge this challenge, but it was a hoot.

The winners earn a fiver per analogy.

His hand slid up her thigh like a string of partly defrosted sausages that had been imbued with lascivious intent, inexpertly animated, but then denied any sense of decorum.
They skipped together through the park, accumulating on their bare feet a mixture of dog faeces and sweet wrappers that formed a pungent metaphor of the human condition.
A.H. Harker

As Gerald read his fiancée’s Dear John, he felt the catastrophic end of their relationship as the swamping of a primordial land bridge, leaving a drowned, irrecoverable Doggerland of separation.