So since you enjoy vore so much here you go Alexreynard a semi-vorish story
Most characters and universe belong to alexreynard. The usual disclaimers and if you don’t have any idea of what these disclaimers are should you be here? Enjoy
Banquet A La Mode
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“You would like me to be a side-dish?” Zoff asked?
	“If it’s all right with you honey.” Mrs. Oakley kindly said.
	Bartleby and Zoff were at the Oakley’s house, invited to eat and in their case be eaten. Mrs. Oakley had already stuffed her husband in the oven covered with sticky honey glaze after agonizingly blissful moments being tenderized by all sorts of blunt instruments. That manly fox was moaning shamelessly as the heat chemically broke down the bonds that held his muscles and skin together, reducing him to a soon to be rump roast. 
	Bartleby and Xander were swimming together in a large pot that took up nearly half of the stovetop. This doesn’t seem to be like much until one takes in the fact that this stove top was able to expand a considerable amount. Various lumps of beets, barley, tomatoes, celery, and a rock were also rolling around subject to various games the kids played while cooking. Xander had asked what so of recipe had a rock, not several rocks but just a rock in it. When the fox was told that the recipe was fox and bat stone soup. He simply jumped into the pot and gave up on arguing. Both were watching for the Birch mouse’s reaction. They hoped that Zoff would join in on the fun of being cooked.
	Zoff twiddled his thumbs for a few seconds and then decided that, yes he would be a side dish. The foxes and bat gave a little cheer and Mrs. Oakley took the mouse aside. “I’m going to have a little taste so that I can decide what recipe I should use with you.” The vixen gently took the mouse’s paw and brought it up to her mouth. Using her tongue she licked the flesh of the mouse’s finger tasting every ridge and inch, with the side result of causing the mouse’s body temperature to rise. Thinking above the hoots coming from the men stewing, Mrs. Oakley sorted out the taste of mouse flesh. Delicate, yet with a hint of sweetness, not sugar sweet but sweetness that comes from fruit…
 	Mrs. Oakley now had which recipe she was going to be cooking with now. She got out another large pot and quickly filled it to the brim with water. She placed it on the stove and turned up the heat and went to the fridge while the water was set to boil. Out of the refrigerator she pulled out various vegetables and greens. Washing them quickly, cutting boards were placed on the table. Mrs. Oakley took out a knife and started peeling and chopping. She then heard the water boil. “Zoff, dear could you take off your clothes and hop into the pot I’ll be with you shortly.”
	The mouse carefully took off every article of clothing he was wearing and folded each piece correctly so that there would be no wrinkles. He then hopped into the pot, wincing a little at the heated water. Settling in was easier after his body adjusted to the temperature. While he was cooking Zoff overheard Xander and Bartleby talking about their upcoming school play. No one had an idea of what to perform but whatever it was the students always pulled off an awesome performance worthy of any flashy Hollywood blockbuster. The three had a lively conversation about their ideas about what was this year’s piece. Mrs. Oakley came over and felt Zoff’s skin and felt that he had just about cooked enough. She took out a mouse sized chopping board, and asked Zoff to lie down on it. She then pulled out a variety of butchering tools used to hack and hew the flesh, crack through bone, drain the blood, and all the other good things butchers do for society. “Isn’t this a bit much?”  Asked Zoff eying some of the tools, they looked as if they could cause intense sensations with those pointy edges and sharp blades. 
	“Honey” Mrs. Oakley said as she put on an apron labeled with Shag the Cook “you can never have enough sharp pointy things” She dove swiftly in with some knives ripping the flesh from the skeleton, tearing organs from their proper places, stripping skin from muscle, and all the blood flowing down the cutting board in to a collecting basin. Zoff eeped and squealed when he was still able as his body was torn apart piece by piece and carefully sorted. There were now three piles, one of all the fleshy eatable bits of Zoff, one of all the bones and the last pile of… various odds and ends. Then that crafty vixen had a wicked idea. She fished out the spine and smothered it in sauce. Mrs. Oakley opened the oven door and suddenly shoved the spine up into her husband. For Mr. Oakley this was quite a jump but it got worse when that spine began to writhe back and forth inside him!
	“I’ll leave you boys to cook for a bit while I start on dessert.” Mrs. Oakley said.
	“Yeah, mom” Xander said and he dove down into the stew to nibble on his bat friend’s toes.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
	The Oakleys, Bartleby and Zoff sat down around the long table looking at the glorious repast before them. “Whoa, Mom you put Zoff into a salad?” Xander asked.
	“You’ll find out why if you’ll just taste it.” She answered.
	“What’s this?” Bartleby asked as he licked his lips. He had just drunk something deep, rich and red. The taste had delighted his taste buds and was familiar the memory lingering on the tip of the tongue.
	“Doez zee child of the night enjoy his repast?” Xander drawled with an accent, raising his eyebrows. 
	Bartleby eyes popped for a sec, and then he looked at his glass then back to Xander. He had only one thing to say “Very funny.”
	Zoff looked between the two friends and fished around in his stew waiting for a reaction from the two of them. When he got a jump from Xander, the mouse brought up his fork that now had a piece of well done meat. The mouse slowly and empathically placed it into his mouth and chewed slowly and deliberately, all while looking at the fox.
	“Well mom” Xander said through gritted teeth. “It looks like I’m going to try that salad after all.”
	“Well leave room for dessert, I’ve made Ice cream!”
The end