Chapter one
The fox stopped for a moment, tongue lolling out of his mouth and breath fogging lightly on the wintery air sending white and anxious wisps out. His ears swivelled around to hear the distant barking of the hounds, close, but far enough away that he wasn’t in any real danger. Far enough that he could at least take a moment to breathe and recollect himself before taking off and losing them for good.
The bush beside him rustled, Tod’s head whipped around. “w-who’s there?”
He stared at the green foliage now damningly silent. Couldn’t be one of the hounds, they never left their pack and the pack was a good four or five minutes away. Tod scowled, decided it was probably a badger or a raccoon and also decided that he neither had the time nor the space in his stomach to hassle it. So with a grunt he took a deep breath and took off again down the long, winding corridor of the leafy forest.
The shape in the bushes followed, green skin slipping forward and then breaking into a run that went unnoticed by Tod. The young fox already calculating how long it would be until he had to take another break.
Eventually the shape overtook him and pushed on ahead but of this too the fox was left unaware, at that point thinking of his friend Copper.
Copper.....
It hurt to think about, the fact that his friend had not only rebuffed the reunion Tod had planned but then had chased him away, out of the yard and back into the forest. Anger, resentment and sadness bubbled away in the fox who was busy dissecting the situation in his mind even as he ran, so focused on it that he failed to see the aformentioned shape emerge from the bush and stand right in front of him.
It strode forward, on two legs like a human, and stood with its paws on its hips facing the fox’s rushing body. Tod’s eyes widened and he scuffed his paws into the dirt to stop himself bashing straight into the green and scaly stomach. It didn’t work and with a sharp “oof!” sound, but no reaction from the creature that had obstructed his path, Tod barrelled right into the creature in a dense ball of fur, meat and bone.
“Hey!” he grumbled and began to pull himself back up to his feet, head swimming a little “what’s the big idea green gu-woah!”
Two clawed paws shot out to grasp at Tod’s midsection before he could finish the sentence, wrapping themselves tight around his stomach as the creature bent over, lifting him right up into the air as if he was a newborn cub. Tod wriggled and mumbled some incomprehensible fox slur, before finally looking up into the eyes of this creature.
They were unlike anything Tod had ever seen, green and deep and shimmering in the dim moonlight, two light green orbs settling upon Tod’s handsome face with an inscrutable expression. This creature was still silent, not even bothering to give the wriggling fox in his grasp a response when he began to protest loudly.
“Hey put me down greenie, the hounds are coming and unless you want to deal with a whole pack of hungry dogs i’d put me down and skedaddle out of here. C’mon!”
Tod’s legs kicked at thin air and the only sound that emerged from this creature, this gigantic reptile taller than most humans Tod had met, was a deep and humorous chuckle.
“What’s so funny?” Tod grunted, getting annoyed now, he really needed to get going. But his annoyance turning to anger turned right back into a deep, disconcerted unease when he saw the creature make its next move.
Its lips curled back into a long, richly toothed smile and its tongue, long and slimy and pink, slid out from the hiding place and crept along the outside of the creature’s chops. Its eyes met Tod’s and the fox knew instantly what it wanted to do.
It wanted him for its supper.
He would have put on his best display of aggression, tried every trick in his well honed book to avoid being eaten but this creature, this reptile, was much too quick. It shoved Tod forward roughly and opened it’s jaws wide. Hot breath erupted out carrying with it the tell tale smell of a predator, thick and meaty and rich.
Tod’s protests were muffled after that, the jaws closing off any sound he made and turning it into unintelligible whines. The process of ingestion had begun and there was no stopping it now.
---
Copper’s mind was also on Tod, although in a much more confused circumstances.
He wasn’t leading this chase today, sitting two spots back from Chief and Slade and currently sniffing in the reeds to see if he could pick up the creature’s distinct smell. His mind was in two parts. On one hand, Tod was a good friend and Copper certainly didn’t want to see him eaten by dogs, but at the same this was a hunt and Tod was a prey animal for the most part. Prey animals were eaten, that was the point of the hunt.
Odd feelings indeed, and it all came to a head when the call came out from chief to alert the pack that he had caught the fox’s scent.
They took off, leaving their human behind in the dirt, over waterfalls and through ravines and down deep into the roots of the forest. Tod had really gotten far but soon they would find him and Copper was afraid what would happen when they did. Afraid of what he would have to do.
But both fortunately and unfortunately, that was not to be. For when the pack emerged into a small clearing they found not the fox, cowering away in some hovel as they approached baying and snarling, but instead what they initially thought was a tall human figure before noticing the scales, claws, teeth and the long, swinging fox tail hanging from between said teeth.
The dog’s stopped, Copper peering around to get a better look, unable to register entirely what he was witnessing.
“Is that...?”
“A Snake?”
“A Gator?
The murmurings continued but the creature didn’t take any notice of them initially, enraptured as he was in the taste and wriggles of the creature currently sliding down his gullet. The same fox they’d been chasing all along, the same fox that had been on Copper’s mind all day. Tod.
Slurrrrrp
A quick snap of his jaws to bring a dangling foot in and then the tail followed, sucked up like a strand of meaty, furry pasta. One last gulp, in full view of all the dumbstruck hounds present, and down Tod went. The formerly handsome, proud fox now little more than a wriggling and naturally quite concerned bulge in this reptile’s tummy.
“ahhhh” FT sighed “that was a good fox, i’ve had a hankering for him since last February.”
He turned to face the hounds and for a moment wondered what they were doing here. “Um, Hi. Was he a part of your...group?”
None of the dogs responded and FT, silently of course, pondered if any of them would make a good second course. His eyes ran over those unsure, slightly scared and absolutely flummoxed forms, none of them having any clue as to what they were looking at or how to react. It was a decent collection of canines, pretty diverse in age and make up although almost all were basset hounds. And outside of a particular, duck loving hunting dog that this scene brought shades of memory back to him from, FT didn’t have much love for smelly, oily basset hounds.
“Alright, if there’s nothing else” FT called out and stepped forward before slamming his foot down on the ground “scram!”
Hot, fiery breath hit the ground in front of him and sent the dogs scrambling away into the woods in many different directions, Copper the last of them. He stood stock still for an extra moment, looking at the belly still squirming and wriggling with fox, before finally taking off deep into the wooded thicket, never to return again.
Out of all the dogs he would be the only one to not make it back home, running across a particularly hungry bear preparing to enter its hibernation period. On the lookout for a meal about the hound’s size and weight. Copper would keep it sated for a long time indeed just like Tod would keep FT fat and happy and full.
Such thoughtful creatures that inhabited this world, FT thought as he licked his lips in the silence of the clearing, and tasty.
Already the wriggles in his belly were slowing down, the deep gurgles of a happy stomach echoing out as the dragon ran a light paw over the enlarged organ half filled with liquid and handsome, male fox.
He waited there for an hour or so, watching his belly smooth out and mould the fox into a much more digestible package, before reaching behind himself and pulling out a long, scratchy notepad.
He pulled the pen from it’s holding slot in the corner, and crossed off the first name in the list. Three more to go.
“Tod down” FT chuckled “Now who’s next?”
Chapter two
The squirrel eyes narrowed when it saw the dog.
It was a fat little black furred creature, smug and chubby, trotting through the park as if he owned the place. And in some ways it did, lunging at any cat it saw big or small, chasing rodents back into their burrows and up trees and causing every human coming towards him to scurry in another direction. All the while grinning a wide grin to show of all the impossibly strong, sharp white teeth it had hidden away in its jaws.
That was how it had been given the name Gnasher.
The squirrel, Samson, who usually would have avoided any contact with this menace of a dog decided to follow him this one time. Compelled to see where the dog went, who it scared today, and see if there was any way of getting it away from the park for good.
The dog belonged to a local boy, Dennis, and usually followed him around on their devilish exploits but today Gnasher was on his own. Trotting along, head held high, searching and sniffing around for any mischief it could make.
As it turned out the Abyssinian Wire-Haired Tripe Hound, for that was his breed, was about to find way more mischief than he had ever bargained for. And it all started with a big, nasty looking black cat.
Samson didn’t recognise the cat nor its scent, and as a matter of fact could have sworn that he hadn’t seen a black cat around this park in years. As it was the cats, save the foolhardy or very young ones, rarely entered the park anyway for fear of running into Gnasher. This was odd.
Gnasher stared right ahead and locked eyes with the feline, the cat staring back with a daringly feisty glare. Coaxing the dog to come towards him, to chase and fight him, and Gnasher couldn’t resist a proposal like that.
The dog took off, four legs bouncing off the ground as the cat volleyed in the opposite direction just as quick.
Samson followed behind, jumping from branch and tree to tree to see where this went. Something strange was in the air for sure, a strange scent perhaps to complement this mysterious cat, whatever it was Samson had to strain himself to keep up. Little squirrel chest pumping out, breaths quickened as he swung from tree to tree.
Eventually they all came to a stop near an old, abandoned looking groundskeepers shed with the windows boarded up and the door half closed. The cat slowed down and the baying, drooling dog did too, staring at that fat cat body and wondering if it would be possible to bite this one more than usual, to swallow it whole and ndulge in a most devilish desire indeed.
Samson came to a stop nearby, hanging onto the trunk of a wide sprawling oak to steady himself and stare at the scene ahead. This was an area of the park most humans and animals visited rarely, heavy with trees and stored far away, almost secret. Why had the cat led Gnasher all the way out here? What was the goal?
Sammy couldn’t piece it together, but he was about to find out.
Sitting back on its hind legs and still silent the cat watched as Gnasher approached, slowly and surely, a thick grin plastered onto that dumb face of his. A black tail curled up behind the feline, flashing back and forth to entice the dog forward, chest jutting out to show all of the juicy flesh that this hound could bite into. It was almost presenting itself, Samson realised, trying to bait the dog towards it.
Gnasher got within a foot of the cat and crouched down right beside an open basement window, fat rump in the air, tensing his muscles to jump forward and claim this prey for himself.
His eyes focuses upon the black cat and Gnasher failed to notice the scaly creature move into place behind the window, sniff the air and arrange its lips into a sharp toothed smile.
Sammy saw it, and as he leaned in closer to see it in a better light the creature made its move.
Two reptilian paws shot out from through the open window and grabbed at Gnasher’s midriff, one thick paw grabbing a hold of his furry side while another gripped his front leg stopping the dog’s pounce just before it began.
Startled Gnasher’s wide eyed face turned to bite at the strange creature holding it, teeth slipping into the green flesh but not breaking the skin. As a matter of fact the equally startled squirrel could tell, even from this distance, that the strong jaws of the dog barely made any imprint at all on that scaled skin that was grabbing at him, pulling him through the open window and into the shed’s basement.
Gnasher looked up in the direction of the squirrel and Samson saw a mix of anger, desperation and regret upon his face, the dog realising now that he had fallen into a most terrible trap indeed.
He ground his claws into the ground but that did little to stop his little form being pulled through the open window and into the darkness of the basement, long claw marks left on the grass outside. All to show for his short presence there.
A sharp cry echoed out and silence followed. Samson realised that the cat had gone away now and the smell of it didn’t seem to be presently hanging in the air. Taking advantage of that he moved closer to the shed, compelled to see what was going on, pulling himself near to the basement window that Gnasher had vanished into.
The oddest sounds now came from the darkness. Muffled whines, what sounded like long slurping and smacking of lips, and the occasional grunt that reminded Samson of how he sounded when he found a particularly juicy acorn to snack upon.
This....snake creature couldn’t have.....no, that made no sense. Samson could still hear the protesting vocalisations of Gnasher and no forest animal would, or even could to his knowledge, eat their food whole and alive. Even a snake had to constrict the prey into unconscious before gulping it down.
The whines of Gnasher vanished and a moment later the shed door burst open with a wide bang!
Startled Samson made to run but barrelled right into the black furred chest of the grinning cat, looking up into those green, determined and mocking eyes settled upon him now. A thick paw settled down on his small body before he could so much as plead for his life. But the cat didn’t do anything more than that, merely waited while Samson panted underneath her paw terrified and confused, holding him in place.
The reptile like creature stalked over towards them and Samson saw that, indeed, his suspicious were through. The impossibly tall and green scaled beast sported a thick, wriggling belly that echoed out with both the whines of Gnasher and the tell tale gurgles of a happy belly.
“Let the squirrel go.”
The voice came from the dragon and for a single terrifying moment the cat’s clawed paw clenched around Samson and he thought that was it, eyes bulging out, the end of his life. But after a small stand off between the two creatures, the cat obviously realising that the dragon was far from full yet, lifted her paw and allowed Samson to scurry away into the trees and away into the branches. He didn’t stop running until he was safely curled up inside his cosy den half a mile away, barely able to comprehend the things he had just seen.
The cat watched him go and then turned back to FT, looking at his still wriggling belly filled to the brim with rapidly digesting Abyssinian Wire-Haired Tripe Hound. Interesting, she thought, very interesting....
“Just wanted to see if I could eat something whole, like the way you do, dragon-man.”
“If you’d eaten him you know what would happen, I would have to eat you. You’d have probably have spent the rest of the day sharing my belly with that dog. And trust me, it’s tight, wet and hot in there to begin with so being stuck in there with an angry, bitey dog? Not my idea of a good time.”
The cat grimaced then made to saunter away, nonchalant as ever. As if she hadn’t just baited this annoying dog into a digestive doom. “So we’re even then?” She asked, turning to face him again and giving another once over of his gurgling, wriggling, bulging belly “You got a nice snack and I got an annoying dog off my property.”
“not juuuustt yet.”
She looked at him, raising a curious eyebrow.
“I need you to tell me where I can find the Arbuckle house.”
Chapter three:
“So what’s with this list business?”
FT looked over at the cat standing near him, stopping to lick herself for what seemed to be the fourth time. He rolled his eyes and reminded himself that she was still useful.
"Just an idea I had, make a list of prey I'd love to gobble up and see how fast I can pull it all off. Already had one."
He looked at the scratched out name "Tod."
"And while I wasn't planning on taking in this guy" he gripped his belly to shake the digesting pooch around "you insisted."
With a grin he turned to the paper and hastily scribbled "Gnasher" into the margin underneath Tod then crossed it out.
"Just three more then, and two in the same house. Thanks for all the help cat."
"Anytime" the feline shrugged and took off again down the road towards the Arbuckle household, leading the dragon along all the way, FT keeping an eye out along the empty road for any humans that may be nearby. he was so close now to the next two subjects on his list that he could almost smell them, that thick smell of plump and juicy cat mixed in with the much beefier scent of dog.
“Right there” the cat motioned, and then stopped to look at FT “are you gonna....”
“Digest them?”
“....Yeah.”
FT nodded and gave a lick of his lips to accompany that, the cat couldn’t help but suppress a shiver. “Well far be it from me to stop you, even if I could, but go easy on the big guy OK? he’s not all that bad really, just a bit smug.”
FT couldn’t make any promises, but he did keep the cat’s request in mind as he left her behind him to walk up to the house, the female scurrying off finally into the undergrowth to explore her new territory in the park. Happy now to be free of her debt to the dragon.
---
“Alright Odie, let’s see if we can get it right this time.”
The dog looked back at him with the same dazed expression it always had, big eyed with that dripping tongue hanging out. Garfield could hardly call it cute but humans seemed to think differently.
“Lemme just....” The fat orange shorthair began, staring at the phone screen “I can see why people are so obsessed with these things Odie, now if only human fingers weren’t so small.”
After a few moments of trying he finally pushed his fat fingers onto the video sharing app that Jon usually used, score!
“Alright, try and look adorable Odie, this is our ticket to super-stardom and all the lasagna a cat could eat....”
He drooled a little, imagine himself buying trucks full of the cheesy stuff and diving into it, sliding through an ocean of noodles and tomato sauce. But first they would need to go viral, and the internet did like its dogs.
Garfield moved the phone around and tried to get the center to focus upon Odie who hadn’t moved an inch and was still sitting with the same dumb, vacant expression he always had. Fine, that would have to do.
“Lemme ju-”
As the camera clicked Odie shot off towards the front door and Garfield almost dropped the phone in annoyance, but luckily caught it again just before it fell. “phew” He scowled in Odie’s direction “Jon wouldn’t have liked to hear that Odie broke his phone.”
Where had the dog too anyway? It was too early for Jon to have arrived home, and Garfield hadn’t heard the door knock. The orange shorthair looked around as Odie came flying back in, ears struck behind him and bounded back onto the table.
“Ruff!”
Run
---
FT cursed the dog inside of his belly weighing him down, he could have easily leapt forward and gulped Odie down were it not for the sagging weight holding him down. But the dog had seen him, stopped and then ran back inside before he coudl strike. Now a chase was on and FT had wanted to get this one done quickly and be out of here before that cartoonist showed back up.
Ah well, taking his time could be fun too.
Stalking forward through the small, suburban and brightly coloured home FT could smell his prey’s scents hanging in the air. One beefy and sweet mixed in with the saucy tartness of lasagna, the cat, and then a somewhat milder and less clean aroma of dog. Both enticing, moving the dragon forward on his mission. After this there was just one more subject on his list to cross off and his feast would be over.
When he reached the kitchen the dragon could see that a frenzy had taken place, a shattered potted plant lay scattered on the ground, the tablecloth was sagging halfway off the wooden frame and every cupboard seemed to have been opened and shut in a high speed effort to find one to hide in. FT didn’t know why they hadn’t just used the backdoor to escape but, then again, he wasn’t complaining that the prey had made itself so easy to catch.
He looked around to see if he could find evidence of where they had gone and, appropriately, his eyes landed on the food-bowl with a scrawled “Garfield” on the side in large block capitals. Certainly the right house then and perhaps a good souvenir when he was finished, first he had to capture the cat though.
“Now if I was a lasagna loving and juicy little kitty where would I hide....?” FT uttered out loud with a smack of his lips, spiked tail lashing out with anticipation “Let’s see. Could be somewhere food orientated, the fridge maybe?”
He opened the metal door and the cold sent a shiver through his spines, nothing. But he knew the cat could hear him, and that was fun in itself.
“No, maybe....ah!”
He leaned down beside the fridge and saw the cat for the first time behind, again somewhat appropriately, the thick glass of the oven. The cat had crawled into the food dish lying inside there and was pretending to be a lasagna himself from the looks of things, eyes closed and fur splooshing out over the sides of the small dish clearly too small to fit his entire body inside.
“You know” FT heard the cat say, although the animal’s lips didn’t move “I’m beginning to feel like this is whole pretend to be a lasagna plan was not only unsuccessful, but also a little ironic.”
FT had to concur. Looking at the knobs of the oven and wishing he had enough time to take full advantage of this situation, to cook this delicious cat up into a fine dish worthy of such a meal. But there wasn’t time, he still had to find the dog after all.
So enraptured was he in his thoughts that he failed to see the cat open his eyes and motion them in a sort of signal, before the cupboard nearest FT shot open and said dog came rushing out.
“ahh! What th-”
The dog latched itself onto his foot and began to bite down although, again, it did little but leave a vague imprint on the dragon’s scaly skin. If Gnasher hadn’t left any impact on the outside the neither would Odie, FT letting out an annoyed grunt and reaching down to pull him off.
As soon the dragon turned his attention away from the oven the door fell down and out came the full weight of a fully grown orange shorthair extra hefty from years of dining on rich pasta dishes, latching onto the dragon’s shoulder and digging in deep with its claws.
Now while dog bites could do little to FT cat claws could be a different story, sharper and more precise than teeth, sending a jut of pain through the dragon although not quite breaking the skin yet. “Agh! Damned cat....”
A dog on his foot and a cat on his shoulder tag teaming him, FT was just happy that the black cat hadn’t followed him inside to witness this. The dragon stumbling back and almost falling over the kitchen table, a low growl echoed out from both his stomach and neck.
“I really should have cooked you....” He grumbled at Garfield
“I don’t know” the cat shot back in the same bored tone he always carried “I hear baked cat can be a bit gamey, we’re better raw.”
The cat was arrogant and the dog was dumb, both actually thought that they had a chance of taking down FT and he could use that to his advantage.
“Oh yeah well” FT grunted back and tried to pull the cat off with a free hand while swinging his leg around “let’s put that to the test, beefcake.”
Garfield’s smug, proud face vanishing into a fearful grimace was the last thing FT ever saw of the cat from the outside, bringing his shoulder closer and then his open jaws down upon him. The orange shorthair had been so arrogant and sure that this plan would work that he had never even seen a move like this coming, and now it was too late to stop it.
FT wrenched his head back and gulped, pulling the cat’s plump and kicking body off of his own, the dog forgotten now, FT intent on swallowing down this annoying and smug kitty before he focused upon anything else.
“Hey! Green guy, Stop! Odie!” Garfield mewled out, eyes widening at the smelly vision inside of that slick, slimy maw. It was so dark in here but every time the dragon flicked his jaws open to take in another lick of Garfield’s fat belly or meaty thighs a ray of light would illuminate the dark, dank cave. Sharp poking into Garfield’s chest, belly and rump but not breaking skin, pink muscle throbbing greedily for his tasty flesh. “Ugh!” Garfield exclaimed, blinking to get the slimy drool that coated his entire top half away from his eyes “it stinks in here!”
For what would usually be muffled cries from inside of his body FT could hear every single thing the cat was saying clear as day, which was both a plus and a negative. “Annoying little cat” He grunted and glanced down at the dog still gnawing at his shin “and that dog hasn’t even noticed what’s going on. Strange, dumb animals, but very tasty....”
And it was true. Every inch of Garfield’s body had its own delicious texture, aroma and flavour. His head was more pointy, sweet and carried with the rich smell of the lasagna’s he had eaten over the years. The chest was a lot sturdier, smelled cleaner as if he’d had a wash recently and tasted like one of the beefiest things FT had eaten in a long time. Then of course the belly.....he had drooled for days just thinking about this part of Garfield and it was every bit as scrumptious as he would have thought. Tender, sweet, soft and squishy, the fat poofing down at every touch of the dragon’s trained tongue, puffing out FT’s cheeks with its pampered meat.
And then there was those paws. Delicate, soft as if they had barely stepped outside at all recently and salty. No doubt the saltiest part of Garfield, FT licking up every inch of those wiggling toes and pushing the claws back in as they pushed out to latch at something soft inside of him. He had eaten many cats, quite a few more difficult than this one, and would not be denied his meal so easily. Finally after a few moments all that was left of Garfield was a rump, two back paws and a short striped tail sticking out of a dragon’s jaws. FT putting a hand on the rump, pushing it greedily inside, Garfield’s wriggling body making a sizeable bulge in his gullet.
It was only when he heard the slurping of that tail and the final gulp that sealed Garfield’s fate as festering, feline belly meat did Odie finally look up and realise that something had gone wrong here. Usually by this point the dragon would have backed off because of their assault and Garfield would be standing atop him, victorious. But instead Odie’s cat sibling was a wriggling, protesting bulge travelling down that neck and the dragon was far from defeated. As a matter of fact, he looked positively satisfied, licking his lips and fingers for more of that delicious shorthair’s flavour.
“Mmmm, knew he was gonna be good” FT murmured, feeling the bump of Garfield now settling into his belly, making some comment about having to pay rent in there or something. But the cat was too far in for any of his stupid jokes to come back out now even with the strange telepathic ability he seemed to possess, the only sound that Garfield emitted now was the gurgled bubbling of a belly ready to get to work digesting him. “And now, course number two.”
“Arf?” The dog barked, still confused, even more so when the dragon lifted him up past the fat belly and green chest to look him in the eye. Paws under the wriggling dog’s shoulders FT gave him a light squeeze. “hmmm, much leaner than your friend” the dragon mused to the dumb dog “still tasty though I'm sure, need something milder to wash the taste of that cat fur outside of my mouth anyway.”
The dragon moved to swallow Odie and the dog finally realised that this was a very bad situation indeed, but before either could make another move Garfield enacted one last plan.
The cat had begun to wriggle around ferociously inside of FT’s tight, slick and hot belly but his movements weren’t the normal thrashings of a wild and desperate prey. They were planned to cause the dragon as much indigestion as possible, to coax him into spitting out that furred body that now only resembled a cat. Matted down with thick, stinging slime and dragon drool, covered in juices and stinking to high heaven. Garfield was angry, but he wasn’t defeated yet.
“oooogghhh” FT groaned and gave his belly a slap, almost dropping Odie in the process “ooof, give that a rest you big dum-”
He stopped, eyes widening, and felt the heavy weight of the cat shift back into his gullet. It was working.
“Oh no, not gonna get away that easily.”
The dragon punched his chest where the bulge of the cat’s triumphant head reappeared, sphincter closed around his neck and legs kicking at thin air below, trying to climb up and out of this dragon’s hot innards. FT punched again, still holding a very confused Odie with one paw, and Garfield took another leap forward with an angry, determined grimace on his face. Far from out but closer now, confident. Trying to climb up and out of this dreaded creature’s belly.
But the cat had made one final, fatal mistake. He had abandoned his earlier attempts to make the dragon spit him up but the indigestion was still there, the gathered gas steamed below and his movements to pull himself up and out of this belly only succeeded in causing the dragon to feel more queasy. The gas bubbling, forming and fermenting until finally....
URAAPPPPPPPP
BURLPAPPP!
The dragon’s jaws opened again and two massive rippling belches echoed out one after the other in a low, stinky cloud of gas that enveloped Odie, who had unfortunately been in the way of the blast. The dog surrounded by the hot, cloying cloud and suddenly feeling a little queasy himself, the stink of digested fox, digesting dog and an almost completely fresh Garfield mixing together with the natural acidity of stomach juices to produce a noxious concoction indeed. Odie almost fainted but held on past the onslaught, but the cat who had contributed to the scent was not so lucky.
He had gotten the full brunt of that thick, heavy and hot gas, stuck halfway in the gullet and halfway in the belly as the gas surged forwards almost shooting him up and out but not quite. He was in the wrong place at the worst possible time. Perhaps if he had pulled himself back down into the belly he may have managed to ride the wave of belch up and out like some sort of digestive surfer.
But instead Garfield had gotten the full and mighty weight of a hot blast of belch still brewing in the belly, shooting past him and covering his entire body with hot stink. The full weight of Tod and Gnasher’s digesting forms wrapping around him in an even more caustic form than the one Odie had gotten. Bringing belly slime with it to coat his lower body still stuck deep in that belly, hind paws curling up, rump hot and slick.
Garfield tried to hold on but the onslaught of gas and stink and bile was just too much and finally, after a moment of intense wriggling, he passed out. His body going into a deeply unconscious state and, with another punch from the dragon, slipping back into that tummy to await his digestive fate.
---
“Odie, Garfield! I’m home!”
Jon jumped into his home with a spring in his step barely even noticing that the door had been busted open and was hanging off its hinges. “Liz agreed to go on a date with me guys!”
He walked into the kitchen but, unusually, nobody was there and the room appeared to have been ransacked. The tablecloth lay half fallen, the oven door and nearby cupboard was open and the fridge hadn’t been closed properly, leaking water all over the floor.
"Garfield!" Jon exclaimed with an excerabted tone “Did you do this?”
Still no response, but now Jon was sure he could hear snoring. Strange....he tiptoed towards the source, slightly flummoxed at the whole event, and finally saw where his animals had gone.
Sprawled out on the couch was a real life anthropomorphic dragon with blonde hair and two slightly greenish horns on his head, green scales all down his pudgy body. This wasn’t as unusual a sight to Jon Arbuckle as it would have been to most people, after all his cat regularly turned into a superhero and went to space pretty much every second Tuesday. What concerned more was two things, one was the fat and gurgling tummy the dragon sported and second was the green food bowl precariously positioned on said tummy. The name of the former owner “Garfield” had been scratched out and replaced with two skull and crossbones and a hastily scribbled substitute name: “FT.”
The dragon, conscious of the human’s stare suddenly awoke. “wha? Oh c-I wasn’t supposed to fall asleep, eating that much food really makes me sl-”
He looked up and locked eyes with the human, Jon holding a bag filled with what FT could automatically smell was lasagna. FT gave a weak smile back.
“heh, hey dude...sorry about the, cat and all.”
This was bad. FT didn’t eat humans and he liked to have as little to do with them as possible, cat’s and dog’s could fight back sure but a fight with a human was way more precarious. But oddly enough this one didn’t seem too fazed by the situation, his widened eyes already shifting back to their slightly annoyed, fed up position.
“My life is a mess” The human murmured, sighed and then went off to prepare the lasagna that frankly, he had never expected to get to eat. Usually Garfield was the one to snatch it up before he ate and right now Garfield was in no position to eat anything. The cat curled up inside FT alongside Odie and whatever was left of that black furred hound the dragon had eaten earlier, Embryonic, half melted. All of his beautiful striped fur gone, only a slimy mass of former cat left behind.
FT felt bad and followed the human out to the kitchen, finding that Jon was busy putting the pre cooked Lasagna into a baking tray. “Do you want some?” The human asked, still looking bemused and unfased.
“uh....sure?”
Jon nodded and proceeded to prepare the meal. This was odd but FT wasn’t going to complain, free lasagna wasn’t something he was going to turn down and it would be a good way to get the taste of cat and dog out of his mouth, finding that he had burped a few times during his sleep and had brought up a little of their stew. Unpleasant, but always a hassle when eating furry animals.
And speaking of furry animals....
Still one more prey on his list, and as FT looked over at the TV screen he saw exactly what he had been looking for.
“Zoinks Scoob!” Came the echo out of the buzzing screen and FT grinned, next week’s dinner was served.
After Lasagna, of course.
Chapter four
“Alright gang, you know the drill” Fred started
“Split up” The gang replied in unison although the dog replaced the S and the U with an “R” as per usual.
“Yeah, how did you guys figure that one out?”
“I don’t know Fred, call it blind intuition” Velma replied sardonically and led the three of them away while Shaggy and Scooby were left behind to take the western route through the castle.
While Scooby shivered the skinny lad beside him seemed a little more calm. “like zoinks Scoob” he began looking at the gigantic great Dane beside him “can you believe that they say there’s a real life d-dragon hiding out here?”
Scooby’s teeth chattered and almost made Shaggy jump on his own. “but don’t worry Scoob, this castle isn’t big enough to hold a real dragon. And it could just be a man in a suit anyway!”
The man laughed a little but Scooby was still unconvinced, pattering forward as they traversed through the steps.
Nearby the dragon in question was getting into position. Looking at his list one final time. Tod, Gnasher, Odie and Garfield all crossed out and long since digested, forming nice layers of fat upon his already quite pudgy tummy.
The Lasagna that the strange human had treated him too after had been nice too, but that wasn’t on the list. The only thing left not was a big, capital letter word: “Scooby”, The final course and one that FT had nursed a hankering towards for months. This great big great Dane was beefy, muscular, strong and was no doubt wriggly as a prey as FT could find.
The sound of voices drew close, and FT got himself into the right spot to initiate his plan. In between the walls of the castle, each of them hiding a narrow corridor filled with all sorts of levers and traps and secret passageways.
The dragon didn’t know what mad man had built this place, but he was sure they never thought it would be used by a dragon to hunt down a dog.
As Shaggy and Scooby got closer FT pulled the first lever, a nearby knight’s armor on a stand collapsed to the ground with a crashing din.
“Zoinks!” The skinny man exclaimed and then, realising it was just an old piece of mouldy armor, laughed it off. “It’s alright Scooby, it was just this old guy’s new digs.”
FT pulled the second lever, and a wall slid into place between the two creatures, separating them for what he hoped was forever. The stone barrier sliding through a hidden crevice and stranding Scooby on one side and Shaggy on the other.
“Raggy!” The dog shouted out, barely audible through the thick stone of the wall, Shaggy pushing at it from the other side but finding that it wouldn’t give.
“Must have happened because of that armor falling” the skinny man mused “don’t worry Scooby like, I don’t think a dragon could move an entire wall!”
FT had to suppress a giggle at that one.
“I’m gonna circle around the long way, try and head further in and I'll meet you on the other side.” And with that Shaggy stalked away, no help to his great Dane now and eager to get back in touch with him.
"R-raggy?" The great Dane shivered, partly from the cold and mostly with fear, and turned to face the long and winding corridor he was now alone in.. It was dark, very dark. The only instance of light that could comfort Scooby Doo was the flashes of the moon through the cracks and rotting windows as he began to manoeuvre his way over cracked rocks and knocked over objects. Surely it wouldn’t take long for Shaggy to find a way around and for the two of them to meet back up, he just had to keep moving forward. Still Scooby was weary, keeping an ear out for this mysterious dragon haunting the castle...
Meanwhile the dragon in question was following Scooby through the hidden corridor inside the castle wall, licking his lips in anticipation of that delicious, muscular body slipping past his lips. Poor Scooby was about to find out way more about dragons than he had ever needed, or wanted, to know.
After a few moments of stalking FT decided to make his presence known, opening a hidden passageway with a final pull of a musty lever and walking out to greet his future belly meat.
The Dane's eyes widened when he laid eyes upon this creature. “r-raggy?” He muttered, but this wasn’t Shaggy. This was the dragon they had been searching for, smaller and more humanoid than he had envisioned but undoubtedly draconic all the same. If this was a costume it was the most intricate and well designed one that he and the gang had ever laid eyes upon. It was lime green and covered in glistening scales, standing atop two sturdy and slowly moving towards with a cheerful expression and a pudgy, jutting bell. A pink sliver of tongue flicking out run across those lips at the sight of this shivering great Dane. The deep eyes set upon a most delicious doggy dinner.
But it was not to be.
Scooby looked around panicked, trying to find something that he could use to prevent his ingestion and digestion, some sort of weapon or armor or trap but nothing came to mind and all the while this dragon was drawing closer, closer, closer. The great sane looked up, saw those jaws coming towards his face, opening up to beckon him inside and made a split second decision that would change everything.
He opened his own maw, stinking of Scooby snacks and digested sandwiches, and launched himself forward at the dragon’s head enveloping it entirely with one precise chomp!
FT reeled back and instantly reached up a hand to pry the swinging, kicking dog off his head, Scooby hanging on by only his jaws and just as surprised as FT was that this spontaneous attack had actually worked. “Get off me!” The dragon proclaimed, but Scooby only responded with another unconscious gulp. In for a penny, in for a pound he supposed. “I’m supposed to be eating you, dumb dog.”
But Scooby hadn’t gotten the memo and already the dog was enjoying that rich taste of dragon dancing upon his slick, pink tongue. It had its own draconic saltiness but also carried with it the mildness of Odie, the beefy nature of Garfield, the sweeter aspects of Gnasher mixed in with the wildness of fox. Absolutely delicious, the greatest thing Scooby had ever tasted and good natured even as he was, the dog couldn’t help but indulge in this act of predatory bliss. Taking slow and precise swallows of this dragon’s wriggling hide while slurping and smacking his tongue over every exposed inch of scale.
FT, now in the dog up to his chest, was less enthused by the situation. This really was ridiculous and also uncomfortable, hot and wet and smelly, thick with the odour of dog breath and stomach juices. He dug his legs into the wooden floor to stance himself but nothing he did prevent the slow descent of the dog down his squirming, lime green body that was now today’s dinner. Not even FT’s combined weight from the two dogs, cat and fox did anything to deter Scooby. The dog stopping when he reached that belly and hesitating for a moment before finally, with a resounding and victorious GLURRRRK, sliding over that mass of fattened meat. Just as sweet, tender and soft as Garfield’s had been, although Scooby couldn’t have known that.
Then all that was left was those lengthy, kicking hind legs, claws and tail of the dragon which were brought in slowly. Scooby no longer had to rush through this part of the snack, FT was past the point of no return and this was potentially one of the tastiest parts of the meal. Scooby licking every inch of those slender legs, those hardened foot soles and those wriggling, clawed toes so salty and desperate.
Then finally one last:
GULLLLLPP
And FT was gone, slipping into that tight great Dane belly already half filled with digestive juices.
“This stinks!” The dragon exclaimed. And that was true in multiple ways. The hot, wet and tight prison conforming around his green form, hot liquid spilling into prepare itself for the digestion of the largest meal Scooby had ever devoured. Digesting FT would be a long process but Scooby would work through it and in a few days, when the regret had settled, he would look at the new mass of lard on his swinging form and be proud. Though even now he allowed himself one little exclamation of victory:
“Rooby Rooby Ro-URRRRRP!”
The belch was long, brewing and stinky and, instead of scales or such, brought out a single piece of partly shredded paper already stained with digestive acids. Scooby scooted himself over, rubbing his massive stomach, and picked it up. Impossible to read at this rate, soggy as it was, but he could vaguely make out a series of human letters scribbled out and with one last name left uncrossed at the end. Scooby shrugged, threw the paper away and sat back to digest the wriggling, furious creature inside of his gurgling, happy belly.
The end.
