You decide not to risk shouting for help and instead wriggle around on the floor, trying your best not to notice that your actions are only making things worse as you become totally and hopelessly entangled.
You breath a deep sigh, and try to think your way out of the problem instead. You can't tear the stuff with your hands...you can't reach the knives...what about if you rub it against something, heat it up with friction?
You immediatly thrash around again, rubbing against the floor, chair legs, kitchen units, in fact anything you can reach. After five minutes you stop breathless and take stock.
No good. All thats happened is you've stained your clothes with red gloop from the rubbery rope that holds you. A lot. Like all your clothes are covered in the stuff. You shift uncomfortably and are rewarded with the squeak and pop of latex moving...your clothes are not stained with latex...they have become latex!