“Royalty always comes first,” the Prisoner continues.
“Looks like you’ll be first into the mouth of… of what exactly?” the Captain asks.
“Mutants. Bugs, boxes and mutated policemen that didn’t make it to a normal state. Simple.”
The King and the Captain look at the prisoner, sceptical. Up until now, it had all seemed like some misunderstanding, a joke.
“The front end is all right, you’re gone in an instant. One big gulp and you drown gasping for air. Then the stomach juices dissolve you fast and easy before digestion. The rear end is the bummer, never mind the pun.”
“—Yeah, the rear end acts like a suction cup. Zillions of little suctions cups, they say, that feel like electrified pins, dissecting you little by little, mixing you with some demented chemicals. A very slow death, and blood curdling at that because you hallucinate – the stuff of horrifying visions – and the ghastly after death effects are said to exist though no one can be sure.”
“No escape,” the King utters, that’ll be our lot.
“Look at the bright side, mate, if you’re lucky, the creature may assess you as fit for growth and, if it isn’t aware that the tenderisation process hasn’t taken, which can happen, and—“
“—I’ve never hear of its sense of smell being dysfunctional,” another prisoner adds.
“Let us dream a bit, will you? As I was saying, if the tenderisation hasn’t taken, the creature will gobble you up from its front end and may regurgitate you. You’re alive, merely in some state of disarray.”
To be continued…