When the hot, fetid elephant breath couldn't get any worse the cub's approach was halted. Thunder smiled broadly, preparing to blow away both his opponent and the crowd. He felt his bowels shake and rumble under the sheer volume of bubbling gas waiting to be released. He would teach this young little princeling who the king of bad breath was around here. He felt the exact moment the gas hit critical mass in his belly and came surging up. It burned a little, but the mere idea of Simba gagging and choking on his burps made it all worth it. The cub realizes only moments before his doom what the ominous gurgling from the back of the elephant's maw is. He tries to cover his nose, but he is too late.
Thunder's belch is long and cacophonous, thundering all around the helpless cub as the elephant did his best to prolong the stream of horrifying gas. The stink was sour and warm, burning Simba's nostrils and robbing him of his breath. The cub began to trash and cough in the tight grip of the elephant's trunk, desperate for fresh air. His weakening struggles were amusing, but now was not the time to slack. Every last bit of horrendously foul belly gas was to be deposited in that little lion's face. Even the first few rows of the crowd began to wave their hands in front of their faces. They were used to things getting smelly, but this was something else.
Simba's eyes teared up from the noxious belch, making his vision of the dark chasm before him hazy. The seemingly endless supply of rotten stench the elephant's gut held was impressive. If only the cub didn't have to experience it in such a terrible way. He felt his whole body ache, inside and out. The tight grip of the trunk squeezing around his waist whilst the foul gas set his lungs aflame. His breathing got more and more shallow and he began to fear he lose consciousness. He dreaded to think of the things Thunder might do to him should he pass out. He had to stay in there, he had to stay alert.
After nearly a minute of continuously belching on his opponent, Thunder lifts him to inspect the damage. Part of him wants to see if he managed to burp the lion unconscious. But that would also mean the end of playtime in the ring. Hopefully the crowd wouldn't mind a slightly shorter match than usual. The ref keeps a close eye on things. Is Simba still there?
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