Your vision is taken over by a smothering mass of wet flesh as your entire body is constricted by the gastric muscle of your consumer.
"Nice one Ben" you hear the muffled voice of the friends of the boy who devoured you heartily congratulating him on a good meal. A few hollow smacks push the belly walls up against your face and you can only assume one of the boy's outside is gripping the gurgling mass and giving it a slap. Suddenly you feel the putrid air around you rush up as Ben unleashes a massive "Brrrruuurrrpp".
"No I'm not food I don't want to be food ... or poop" You shudder at the last words out of your mouth as your mind drifts back to the satisfying pile of logs you left in the toilet just this morning and tried to imagine your own face staring out of the bowl. As the acids did their work and the flesh holding you together started to snap that image was burned into your brain. A funeral procession of some dumb kids farts your last noise to the public.
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