“What’s the worst that could go wrong.” Famous last thoughts, right? Or at least its what you thought when tinkering with Ratchet’s shrink ray when he wasn’t around. To top it off, your now minuscule body fell mid air right into the lombax’s lunch. No amount of squeaking got his attention when he strode back in, promptly garnishing the sausage you fell on with the mustard he’d stepped out to get. He seemed to stop for a moment, wondering where his assistant was. Hope was crushed as he casually shrugged on opened his maw, your view filling itself with Ratchet’s cavernous maw. Hot breath washes over you, squirts of saliva coating his eager tongue as the muscle makes its way under the bun. All you can see is the blackness in the writing pit of flesh waiting for you, and the sound of the lombax’s teeth gnashing down on the meat sitting right behind your back. Your body tumbles on the slick, wet mass, somehow avoiding the man’s teeth doing quick work of turning everything into mulch. The giant, undulating tongue wastes no time rippling back and forth under you, pressing you into a ball of slop at the back of his throat. You see sunlight for the last time as Ratchet closes his lips…

*GLURP*

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