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Scaredy Squirrel was regretting giving Dave that Super-Duper Do Anything on Your Birthday Certificate. He should've known the purple skunk would've chosen something that would've been unapalatable to the persnickety squirrel. The place he'd dragged them to had turned out to be someplace Scaredy had never heard of, Chuckin' Charlie's Chili Hut. Everything had seemed fine at first, but that was how Scaredy's life usually went. Either it seemed seemed bad and improved... or it seemed fine and then got very, very bad.

As he sat there dripping in lukewarm chili, he idly wondered why he failed to learn from experience.

"My favorite restaurant in the whole universe!" Dave enthused as the four friends - he and Scaredy having picked up Buck and Hatton on the way - approached the large building shaped like a giant bowl of chili. "Chuckin' Charlie's Chili Hut!"

As they went inside and found a booth, Scaredy decided to take Dave's claim that Chuckin' Charlie's was his favorite restaurant with a grain of salt. The scatterbrained skunk changed his opinions the way other people changed their clothes, and tomorrow his favorite restaurant might be something else. Probably something that wasn't even a restaurant. Like a fire truck.

Still, Scaredy had thought the place seemed surprisingly upscale when they first came in. "Wow, Dave, this is actually a nice place," Scaredy admitted, having envisioned something a little grubbier when Dave had first mentioning its name.

A rat waitress took their orders. In a sense. Before Scaredy had even started speaking to ask for menus, she'd run off and returned with, as she called them, Chuckin' Chili Bowls, Chuckin' Chili Dogs, Chuckin' Chili Fries and, God help me, Scaredy thought, Chuckin' Chili Shakes. Chili covered everything. Scaredy was afraid to peek inside the cups because he was afraid he might discover the "shakes" were just more chili.

But he could've lived with that. If only...

"Can we get some nap--" Scaredy began, only for the waitress to zoom off to somewhere else. "--kins?"

"Napkins?" Buck said. He laughed. "Hilarious!"

Scaredy felt the good ol' worry monster gnawing at the pit of his stomach. He looked at Dave. "Scaredy's never been here before," Dave said.

"Yeah, uh, they don't do napkins here," Hatton said in an apparent attempt to clarify. It clarified nothing.

Giving his tummy a little pat to chase the worry monster away, Scaredy remembered his emergency stash of napkins for just such an occasion, even though he'd honestly never in a million years thought he'd ever enter a restaurant that didn't offer napkins. "Well, lucky I brought my super utility napkin," he said, taking out a smallish green handheld device that resembled a Swiss Army knife, but instead dispensed napkins on jointed metal arms.

Tucking a napkin into his shirt collar, he picked up a fork and prepared to eat, only to be stopped by Dave. "Should've mentioned this earlier," he said, taking away the napkin. "The food doesn't go in you..."

The worry monster was back.

"FOODFIGHT!" all the other customers yelled in unison.

Oh, no, Scaredy though.

"It goes ON you!" said Dave.

Oh, please, no. And before Scaredy could properly process what was happening, chili was flying through the air and splattering on everything. Including him! "Dave, make it stop!" Scaredy squealed and dove underneath the table.

"Stop the best birthday of my life?" Dave said. "Nuh-uh!"

In a very misguided attempt to make their friend feel included, Buck and Hatton had gone and gotten an enormous pot of chili from... somewhere, and upended it, dunking the entirety of its meaty, gloppy contents down onto the shivering squirrel. "Check, please," Scaredy meekly declared from beneath the pile of dripping chili.

And so here he was, drenched, waiting for their bill. The "Certificate" had only been a written guarantee that Scaredy would pay for whatever Dave wanted to do on his birthday, as opposed to an actual gift certificate capable of being redeemed anywhere, much less Chuckin' Charlie's.

Dave ranted about doing the all-you-can-splatter buffet at his next birthday, when the waitress brought the bill. Scaredy picked up the tightly rolled piece of paper and it promptly unfurled into what seemed like a mile-long list. "Whoa!" he cried. "What in the name of walnuts did we order...?"

It occurred to him they hadn't actually ordered anything. The waitress had simply served them four of everything Chuckin' Charlie's offered. But how could four chili bowls, hot dogs, fries and "shakes" amount to this much? It then occurred to Scaredy that the extra charges were probably for the cost of cleaning the place up. He suspected everyone got a similar bill. Great, thought Scaredy, not only am I paying for food none of us ate, but I'm also apparently paying for Chuckin' Charlie's cleaning bill. Oh, well, fair was fair. If foodfights in a sanitary, family-friendly atmosphere was what Chuckin' Charlie's Chili Hut offered, then asking customers to pitch in for what had to be a mandatory daily cleaning bill wasn't too unreasonable. Scaredy just knew that after today, he probably wasn't coming here again. No more certificates that amounted to blank checks for Dave's birthday.

At least the worry monster was gone for now. He could pay the bill, go home and get cleaned up and have a good night's sleep. He sighed and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. The pocket was empty. "Has anyone seen my wallet?" he asked. "It must've fallen out during the foodfight."

The others suddenly looked a little worried, particularly Buck.

"What's it look like?" asked Dave.

Scaredy looked underneath the table, but could find no sign of the wallet. Popping back up, he said, "Shiny, silvery, wallet-y..."

"YEE-HAW!" a gregarious Texan-accented voice said out of nowhere to Scaredy's left, making him flinch.

He turned and saw a very tall, very oddly-proportioned cat with yellowish fur and swept back grayish-purple hair standing there. He was the most pear-shaped person Scaredy had ever seen. His upper torso, arms and legs were all skinny, almost as skinny as Scaredy himself, but his midsection...

Goodness, thought Scaredy, eying him. Whatever he ate, it went straight to his middle! The cat had love handles on his love handles, an enormously fat rear end, and a potbelly so enormous it was amazing his shirt could contain it. The huge gut bulged ponderously outwards towards the four, as though seeking them. Somehow it made Scaredy feel extremely uncomfortable.

To go with his Texan accent, the cat was dressed appropriately. He wore a dress shirt stretched tightly over his stomach, a leather vest, a tacky-looking bolo tie with gold accents, far too tight bluejeans, and a pair of black and silver cowboy boots. An extra large belt held the jeans up. The buckle featured an engraving of a chili bowl. Scaredy guessed this was the manager, and he'd overheard him mention being unable to find his wallet.

"Did I hear someone mention it was their birthday over here?" the feline asked.

"Me, me, me!" Dave cried, bouncing up and down eagerly in his seat.

"Well, then..." the cat said, and took out a large chunk of chili shaped to resemble a slice of birthday cake, and, grinning evilly, shoved it into Dave's face. "Chili cake, on the house!" His expression immediately reverted to its former benign state and he grinned widely.

"Yay, it burns!" Dave whined, rubbing at his eyes. "But in a happy way!"

"Hi, hey," Scaredy said nervously. Something about this guy didn't sit right with him. There'd been briefly-glimpsed malice in his face when he'd "fed" Dave the chili cake. Like he'd done it to be mean and cruel in the guise of just good old-fashioned fun. But since Dave was, as usual, too slow to notice when he was being picked on, and, well, having the food thrown and smeared on you seemed to be kind of the point, Scaredy decided to let it go and didn't pursue the matter. But the cat still made him uneasy. "Are you the manager?"

The cat nodded. "Yep! Charlie! Owner a' this here eatin' place!" He bent at the waist and glanced at the very long bill in the squirrel's hand. "Looks like y'all had some food-flingin' fun!" he said.

"Yeah, um, about that," Scaredy said nervously, scratching the back of his head, "I seem to have lost my wallet--"

The words had barely left his mouth when Charlie leaned in further, uncomfortably close, even, so close Scaredy had to lean back in his seat, bumping up against Buck beside him, and when Charlie opened his big mouth in his great big face to speak, Scaredy was treated to the dubious honor of seeing every detail of the interior of a feline mouth. The blunt but still pointy teeth, which it seemed Charlie took good care of with regular dentist visits, the broad, thick pink tongue, and the black hole of the throat with its dangling uvula beyond. God, thought Scaredy, Charlie had no sense of personal space! If nothing else, at least his breath smelled like be brushed and rinsed with mouthwash daily.

"Awwwww," said Charlie with what Scaredy, a lifetime victim of bullies, immediately recognized as false sincerity, "that's too bad!" Charlie's expression darkened and he again looked the way he had when he'd stuffed the chili cake into Dave's face earlier. He made a threatening fist as though he was going to punch the squirrel, and Scaredy flinched again. "I mean... really too bad!"

In an attempt to avert the disaster he knew was heading his way like a freight train, Scaredy proposed a solution. "I can come back tomorrow and--"

He was cut off as Charlie leaned back up and laughed. He clutched at his great fat belly, which shook and strained at the buttons of his vest and shirt with every movement. Scaredy offered a weak laugh of his own, but was silenced by a glare from the cat, who then resumed his own laughter. This continued in the same vein until Charlie started choking, on what, though, Scaredy couldn't ascertain, and, recovering, he jabbed a finger into Scaredy's scrawny chest.

"At Chuckin' Charlie's, nobody eats for free!" he snarled.

Scaredy wanted to protest he wasn't trying to eat for free, he merely couldn't pay right this second, but as he stammered he got hung up on whether or not he ought to point out that they hadn't actually eaten anything, just thrown it everywhere. "Technically, we didn't actually eat anything--" he began meekly.

"Squirrel, you're gonna work off this meal right now!" said Charlie with such ferocity that his vest finally popped a button. It flew at Scaredy and he ducked, allowing it to fly across the room and pop someone in the head.

"Ow!" this someone said in a high-pitched voice.

Scaredy admitted that this seemed fair, and Scaredy was overcome with a sudden joy. Work it off? Oh! He'd seen this in the movies! When you couldn't pay your bill, the restaurant made you wash dishes! There were few things Scaredy Squirrel enjoyed more than cleaning.

"Yes, sir, angry cat, sir!" Scaredy declared, got up, and excitedly ran through the restaurant and entered the kitchen. Heaven! he thought as he beheld the stacks of dishes just waiting to be washed, and other things to be cleaned. He stepped forward to begin his work as Charlie entered behind him and locked the kitchen door.

"Actually," Charlie said, grabbing him by the back of the shirt, dragging him back, "I was gonna propose an entirely... different method a' payment."

"L-Like what?" Scaredy asked nervously. If he didn't want him to wash dishes, then what did he want him to do? There was that anxious gnawing in his tummy again. The worry monster was getting a real workout today.

The cat grabbed Scaredy's wrist, whirled him 'round and threw him up against the wall. Charlie moved forwards and used his bulging gut to press the squirrel tightly against the wall so he couldn't move. As he wiggled, his knee brushed against something inside Charlie's trousers, a great swelling and throbbing inside the tightfitting jeans.

Charlie chuckled and began to disrobe the squirrel, tugging off his shirt and then undoing the fly of the shorts Scaredy wore. Those, too, were tugged off, along with Scaredy's underwear, leaving him shivering and nude, except for the gold medallion necklace he wore. "You're a real sweet kid," the cat said, breathing heavily, his arousal highly evident. "Real sweet."

The great length in its denim prison continued to grow and swell, pressing out towards Scaredy, as though so eager to reach him. Scaredy started to yell for help before deciding against it. He didn't want to give this evil feline any reason to hurt him. Just cooperate, he thought, and it'll be over soon! Despite himself he felt his own modestly-sized cock stiffening, rising up and growing outward to rubbing against the bulge in Charlie's jeans. Oh, how humiliating, he thought. Smirking at his customer's submission, the cat leaned down and forcibly kissed the squirrel. He was quite the kisser, as blubbery lips and a skilled tongue mouthing and licking along Scaredy's face. Scaredy leaned into the kiss, closing his eyes, actually finding himself loving the way the thick feline lips slid over his thin squirrel ones.

Charlie undid his belt buckle and unzipped his pants and slid them down past his thighs, exposing his rapidly swelling and throbbing cock. The long, thick, glistening feline shaft oozed from the top as his heavy balls throbbed. An intense stink of male, musk and sweat wafted over Scaredy. It was intoxicating, reminding Scaredy of the times he had indulged in his deepest and darkest of desires, being on the giving end of a truck stop glory hole. The musk pouring off of that glistening shaft drove him nuts and made his head swim drunkenly. Wihout a word, Scaredy knelt down before the restaurant owner and took the gargantuan beast Charlie called his cock in his comparatively small hands and tugged it over. God, it was huge! And the smell! The sweat! How the cat must've sweated for that lovely stink to roll off of his lower extremetities like this in such thick waves. It was the rich, thick stench of male.

Licking his lips, Scaredy bent down and smelled the shaft, inhaling the deep aroma pouring off of it, and then he tasted that maleness and that sweat, his tongue, flicking out from behind his buck teeth, licking over the bulbous head. Intense heat and moisture wafted over his face as Charlie chuckled and took deep, lazy breaths, enjoying the feeling of that tongue gracing his fat cock, a shiver running down his spine. He rughly pet along the squirrel's head to show a little bit of appreciation to the eager boy who was servicing him. If only he knew where his wallet really was, thought Charlie.

As he pleasured the cat, Scaredy was greeted by heavy, thick globes of musky precum that oozed nearly constantly from the large cock as it pulsed and occasionally yawned its urethral opening along the boy's tongue. After a low grumble, Charlie squirmed his hips a bit and stroked more insistently along Scaredy's head, wishing he'd pick up the pace. One thing Charlie was not was patient. Scaredy licked the pre from the tip, and, urged on, he started lapping up all of the pre he could get, his tongue schlurping down along the shaft to the bottom, so he could scoop up the dribble that flowed off of the big orbs with his tongue, then licking back up. He made low whimpers of need as his inner slut came to the surface, banishing the worry monster from his belly. Dave's birthday was forgotten. His friends were forgotten. His missing wallet was forgotten. All there was to him was this cruel and dominant cat who came suddenly into his life.

The squirrel looked up at the cat over the tower of cock, the rolling hills of his paunch and thin chest, to that round, smirking face. He then returned to licking and kissing the single biggest cock he'd ever seen, willing to do anything this big kitty asked of him. In that instant, Scaredy belonged to Charlie, was his boy, and it made his slutty side feel all warm and happy.

"Atta boy," cooed the fat feline, bucking his hips, moving the pulsing flesh of his member against the squirrel's upturned face. "Now open wide..."

Scaredy opened his maw, and slid the bulbous head inside, the hot, musky flavors of man-meat overwhelming the squirrel's tongue. Charlie licked his lips as he watched the skinny boy start slowly sucking that great beast down. Scaredy gave a whimper and clumsily and ineffectually took Charlie's cock into his eager mouth. It was very nearly too big for the squirrel, and his lips stretched over the head, his buck teeth sliding over the sensitive flesh and making the cat go weak in the knees at the sensation of the blunt-edged incisors tease over the hot flesh, the big-bellied feline continuing to buck his hips, forcing ever more of himself into Scaredy's mouth, his huge belly stretching under his shirt, allowing Scaredy to see the yellow fur of his gut, which let out a lewd groan.

"Good boy," hissed Charlie.

He slid his hips forward more, humping his thickness into Scaredy's mouth, the squirrel's thin form rocking back and forth on aching knees as his mouth was brutally fucked, the medallion swinging back and forth on the thin gold chain encircling his throat. His cheeks bulged out and his throat swelled as he felt the monster forced down his esophagus, those churning, sweaty nuts smacking against his pitiful excuse for a chin. His pulse raced. He still couldn't believe he was doing this. Somewhere in his fogged mind he was screaming at himself that this was wrong, that it was humiliating and unfair, but those rational thoughts kept being pushed down deep into the depths of his consciousness by conflicting emotions; how good it felt to be a little cocksucking boyslut to such a big, fat-bellied kitty. To be his boy! Oh, how it filled Scaredy with such shameful delight.

"Awww, yeah," the cat groaned out, bracing himself with his hands against the wall, as, suddenly, he felt his peak rising. "Here it comes..."

Scaredy was ready for his treat! He wiggled with immense delight as that huge cock withdrew a little, until just the fat head rested against his lower lip, and, with a purring snarl, Charlie, came, a hot flood of kitty jizz squirting over the squirrel's tongue and getting washed down his throat. Scaredy's lips closed tightly around the head, sealing the pulsing tip in so that not a single drop of Charlie's gift would escape, the big cat above him rocking, that heavy belly rubbing against the top of his head as he panted in ecstasy. Scaredy closed his eyes and drank, schlorking and slurping his tongue along the underside of Charlie's dick so he could feel each shot of cum as an electric pulse running through the urethral tube. It was amazing. Charlie growled, and, as he felt his orgasm tapering off, he made a point of seizing the squirrel roughly by the headfur and pulling him off, his cockhead popping free of the suckling lips with a slimy "plorp," giving his thick hips a twitch so that the fat shaft swung sideways and smacked Scaredy across the face, sending the last few jets of his cum splattering across the boy's cute visage. Scaredy moaned his approval and his gratitude.

The belly above thundered, and suddenly Scaredy was yanked off of his feet, erfing in sudden surprise. His mind spun as he was lifted up like he weighed nothing and slammed hard against the wall. Again, Charlie pressed that enormous stomach against his thin body, using it, and nothing but it, to hold the skinny form against the wall. Charlie began slowly moving his body up and down, using his growling belly to rub and smush Scaredy against the wall, Scaredy holding on for dear life as he was effectively raped by the restaurant owner's stomach, clinging to the powerful form securely, and, feeling his own smaller but very hard cock rubbing sensitively against the bulbous belly, Scaredy decided to reciprocate. His rock-hard cock throbbed and oozed precum to smear against the moving tummy, bucking his scrawny hips and forcing his aching squirrelhood deeper into the soft, yielding flesh of that prominent gut, finding a nice place in the form of the navel, which his cockhead slid in and out of, as he effectively fucked Charlie's belly button, his thin body being bucked up and down with each powerful bounce of the cat's paunch, from which ever louder growls poured forth.

"Unh!" cried Scaredy. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

He felt saliva dribbling down onto his head and glanced up. A great maw yawned before him and a rough sandpaper tongue slid out to lick and groom over his face. The first thought in Scaredy's sex-adled mind as he approached orgasm was that Charlie was cleaning the cum off of his face. But he kept licking even after he'd gotten it all.

That somehow didn't bode well.

Something about how much the cat was groaning and mmming, as if he found the squirrel delicious, combined with all the growling his gut was doing, worried Scaredy. Or it would've if he cared about anything but pleasing this brutish feline. And as he felt the jittery tingle running up his spine, making him arch his narrow back as he felt the pleasurable pressure build and build deep down inside of him as he slid himself against that amazing gut, he decided that if Charlie wanted to devour him, that was just fine with him. And at that, his pleasure blossomed and he felt the warm explosion of joy flowing throw his body as he uttered an orgasmic cry, cumming hard, flooding Charlie's navel with as much seed as his modestly sized balls had to give, overflowing the shallow belly button, his hot, stick seed leaking out and dribbling down the heaving gut just as the cat's muzzle engulfed his head, sealing him in hot, wet darkness.

Charlie didn't need to strain in the slightest to get someone as skinny as Scaredy down his throat. The boy was little more than a snack. Hardly a meal. He seized the unresisting form and held Scaredy's tightly to his sides to make him easier to swallow, not that he really needed to, of course, and started greedily inhaling his customer turned lover, the squirrel squirming and wriggling as he slid into that tight throat.

As he ate, Charlie turned and made a point of looking at his reflection in the stainless steel finish of one of the big ovens, and admired the clear outline of Scaredy's face, complete with the mouth opening and closing, seen through the tightly-stretched throat. Scaredy sank deeper and deeper into the cat's gullet, the tight, wet, rippling walls of the esophagus. With a mixture of horror and excitement, he realized he was doomed and nothing was going to stop him from being tucked away into the very paunch he'd just gotten done jizzing all over.

As he swallowed, Charlie released his grip on Scaredy, no longer needing to hold onto him with his hands, and soon he was inside the cat up to his wast, his spent, dripping cock sliding against Charlie's chin. The cat gobbled it up along with his pert ass and the rest of him, using his tongue to tease between the little asscheeks of the rodent, making the skinny form buck and whimper within him. He loved torturing his food like this. The shameless predator then threw back his head, tossing the long, thin, limp legs terminating in big feet and that bushy tail high up into the air to kick and twitch above him, waving in the air like a pair of awkward antenna growing from the ravenous feline's maw. He sucked on Scaredy's thighs like they were delicious lolipops, taking another big rollicking gulp with a lewd squelch, each swallow sucking him deeper, dragging him further down the snug confines.

Inside of Charlie's throat, the copious drool dribbling down over the trapped, nude form of the upside-down squirrel as he was massaged down and down, his head coming into contact with the tight fleshy ring signifying the entracne to Charlie's stomach. He cried out as he was mashed against it, spluttering and coughing, until finally it opened around his head and his upper extremities were emptied down into the inside of that incredible belly, the gurgling interior of which greeted him with a lewd groan, so hungry was it for him. He had by now completely accepted his fate. Accepted that this was destined to have happened ever since he took Dave here, and that his inability to pay had been a blessing, so complete was his joy in submitting himself to the fat feline's ravenous and sexual hunger.

There was another stomach-churning lurch as he felt Charlie swallow again. He was moved down another few inches. He whimpered, mewled and sobbed in gratitude at being accepted as a delicious treat by this hungry beast of a cat. Gasped, groaned and cried out in sheer pleasure at being so tasty to Charlie. It humbled him so greatly to serve such a powerful and hungry male.

Scaredy's lower body was no match for the hungry cat's maw, or his throat, and down they went, the powerful throat muscles accepting those long thin legs, which along with his fluffy tail vanished into the black abyss and the dark slimy folds of Charlie's gullet as if they were were no more than strings of saltwater taffy. A few more shallow gulps and the squirrel's big feet were slapping wetly against the rough tongue, and Charlie shut his mouth, the squirrel's toes poking out from between his lips and wriggling, the bony knees pushing out through the skin of the throat. One more swallow, Charlie thought, and Scaredy's debt to Chuckin' Charlie's Chili Hut would be paid in full. He relaxed and worked his jaws a little, and slowly, the pitifully-wiggling toes vanished between the lips and were gone, the bulge of the legs disappearing down into the chest. The squirrel was now completely consumed.

Inside of Charlie's paunch. Scaredy was experiencing pure bliss continued making his pleased little noises, grabbing at his still hard cock and jerking himself off feverishly. He revelled in his submission to the body of the restaurant manager. Being surrounded by the gurgling, churning walls drove him over the edge and soon the squirrel had his second orgasm, squirting it all over the stomach interior. Sweet acorns, he thought, panting as his body bucked and heaved inside that tight fleshy sack, his tightly-gripping hand jerking and squeezing his splurting cock, I'm food, I'm food for this big, mean cat and I love it! In his blissful mania he silently begged and pleaded to be digested, and soon. He erfed and winces as the stomach walls kneaded him, squishing and splurting over him, smearing him with all manner of stomach juices and partially digested food.

Charlie let loose a long, thick belch, and patted his wriggling gut. A pleasured sigh escaped his lips and he leaned back, then burped again. "Burrrraahhhhpppp!"

Scaredy heard that sweet lullaby of a belch. The thickest, manliest belch he'd ever heard in his life, which forced all the air from the stomach. Slowly he passed into a dreamless sleep. He was content. No more Dave bothering him. No more people bullying him. No more job with Nestor always yelling at him. Just this sexy belly and endless peace. Outside, the bulge that was once a supermarket stacker named Scaredy Orville Squirrel, now nothing but a snack and a thick, pleasant belch for Charlie, lay still, as glorping and gurgling noises emitted from within it, the cat's spent but still erect cock lying against it, cradling it, fitting nicely against the new outline of Scaredy's body in that wonderful paunch. The cat slowly rubbed and kneaded over his stomach, giving a third, more stifled belch, and then slowly he tucked his cock back into his jeans and zipped up. He grunted a bit and buckled his belt back up, hitching it up a little, feeling the buckle digging into his now much fatter stomach, earning another little burp from the cat.

Retrieving a roll of paper towels he wiped the cum off of his stomach and decided he didn't care enough about the stains. After all, the squirrel's friends seemed like inattentive morons, anyway. After doing his best to make himself presentable, he unlocked the kitchen door and ambled back out into the dining area. Dave, Hatton and Buck were still sitting at their table, and watched as Charlie returned - without Scaredy.

"Hey, where's Scaredy?" asked Dave, concerned. But as Charlie had hoped, he didn't notice the cum stains and neither did the other two.

"Uh, he's... close by," Charlie said with an evil smirk, giving his belly a slap. They stared dumbly at him, still not getting it. "As to your bill... the squirrel paid it off in full. You three can head on home now. And, uh, Happy Birthday, skunk."

Smirking, Charlie turned and headed to the manager's desk at the back of the restaurant. He eased himself onto a wooden stool which creaked slightly in protest at his weight, watching as the skunk, donkey and beaver got up and left, yammering idiotically among themselves, none the wiser and completely unconcerned about their friend.

Feeling something digging into his left asscheek, Charlie remembered Scaredy's wallet, which he'd stolen from him earlier. Scaredy hadn't even seen it happen. Nobody had. Picking pockets was something Charlie enjoyed doing. He liked wallets, and often stole them from his customers. With a grunt, he dug Scaredy's wallet out of his back pocket and examined it, deciding it'd make a fine trophy to remember the delicious boy by, and, setting it down on the desktop, he sighed and took out a toothpick and slowly began to leisurely pick the little bits of squirrel fluff out of from between his teeth as he eased his ponderous, gurgling gut against the edge of the desk and slowly began digesting the former supermarket stacker, churning him into a thick, nutritious slime to fuel his body with.

"BbbburrrraaaaAAaaahhhhpppp!" he belched again.

The End.