Cloud had never been so terrified of a grossly overweight man in his life. The blonde, balding, mafioso stared down at him as though he knew he was there, and licked his lips.
Don't panic. He doesn't even know you're - WHOAH!
Don Corneo suddenly grabbed Cloud by his front drumsticks and shook him violent, jostling the morph materia from his rear end, which rolled across the counter out of sight. Don Corneo held him up in triumph.
"I knew it!" he cried. "My, my, my, look at you. This was quite a disguise, I must say. Unfortunately for you, I saw youu sneaking in. Your lady friend was quite the artist with that morph materia. Really, you look just like chicken." He tossed Cloud back down on the counter surface and ran a hand over his cold, plucked, puckered flesh. "I expect she got the taste just right too."
Cloud began to struggle. Aerith was indeed skilled with the morph materia, and had been smart enough to give his new body a certain degree of mobility. But she had also trussed his body from gullet-to-drumstick with string so tight that all he was able to manage was a desperate wiggle. The Don laughed as the raw chicken writhed helplessly on the counter before him. With deliberate slowness, he drew the largest kitchen knife and pressed it's flat edge against the chicken's bare back.
"You must be the SOLDIER I've heard so much about," he said, as the chicken shuddered at the sudden coldness of the knife. "The one that ShinRa have tried so hard to stop. And now look at you."
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