With a disgusting and resounding slobbery splat, Gloria's implacable tongue forces her human into her yawning, hoping, happy esophagus. Her tiny offering can only let out a sad whimpering sigh of resignation as he realizes he's lost, and her long tunnel-like throat seals up around him, squeezing him, forming a fist, a bolus for him to be transported to the waiting and now-impatient 1st stomach.

Escorted downwards into the immortal bovine, into tons of squelching organic matter, to the great maw, he is gone without a trace.

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