Serpent's Scheme


Written by Septia.


“And for our third judge we have straight from toyland, the up and coming celebrity… aah…” Their speech halted as they caught a glimpse of the figure slithering up to join the judges on the podium. He'd been promised a pop star, this was a straight-back reptile. 
	“Ssincere salutationss.” The reptile spoke as it scooched into place, cramping the other judges as he coiled up his substantial tail under the desk. “You may refer to me as Jarvus, and I'll be… filling in for opal in this, sports, tournament… judging…” 
	“Ah…  it is a fashion show.” 
	“Whatever,” Jarvus curted the helpful doll judge beside him. 
	“Mfmwpg, pphth,” -Bwnrngs- -Ghhrslgh-bumps engorged along the toy naga's flat midriff, along a cheery voice muffled under layers of rubber. 
	“Cease thy resistance,” Jarvus hissed in a hushed tone, “least we withdraw our promise and rid us of you permanently.” This appeared to calm the struggles. 


With the camera focused elsewhere, Jarvus’s eyes shot open at a guttural -Chhrlslth- throb roaring through his frame, the naga twisting his elongated neck behind the seat as their abdomen distend up. The bloat inflated the base of their neck, malforming their gullet to twice its girth over, plastic-rubbery skin clasping over writhing contours morphing up along his throat in a jettison of contorting, protruding polymer. 
	“Mmg, mwmpth,” Jarvus coughed, wheezing as the dome crowned under his jaw, and a slime drenched hand reached out of his maw. 
	“Insolent refuse,” Jarvus grunted, clasping his jaw over the arm and arching his head back in a gargantuan -Ghhrllmpph-. His neck curved above the bloat, funnelling it straight back behind his torso. 
	“Know that thy fate was sealed by thy one disgraceful antics.” Jarvus hissed at his gut and scooched up so the camera's couldn't notice his distending abdomen under the table. 


~ 1 ~


 “Ah taffy sticks, you can't keep me here the whole event, people are waiting for me,” I called out once my venture landed me right back to square one – a slimy, cramped square – which only had grown distinctly warmer since my journey up the throat. -Ashhxllrth- The walls wobbled, rugose rubber clamping into my frame, squeezing to swab out globules of the naga's stomach acids, steaming nectar battered into my frame. 
	“Well observed, it would be a pain lugging around your pitiful parts much longer in my grand physique.” 
	As Jarvus taunted me, the touch of the juices grew steaming, polyethylene boiling into plastic smog. The dissolvent stomach agents seeped into cracks in my plastic, gouging out globs of my form – solid polymer fissioned to resin fog and residue drooling along my frame. As the stomach clenched and heated, it mixed in the solvents with the rivers of my own molten body, leaving me to witness my own skin and flesh drooling down me like wax, rapidly amplifying in temperature till the globs of molten me wax sunk back into my frame. Across my form I was being reduced to droves of liquid turgid plaster; broad craters, morphed around where the dollops sunk back; and streaks of carved plastic in the wave of the shower of acids. The dissolving severed my nerves, one strand at a time, chopping through them as a scissor of molten magma, jolts of agony reverberating through my frame, pulsing through my mind while I watched my body melting and distorting – a painting left out in a rainstorm. 


“Exquisite,” Jarvus mumbled outside, “either your mind caught up or self preservation caught up and restrained thy running tongue,” the naga continued, pondering on the fate of the bundles of melting flesh within with the agency of a stalker reading the newspaper camouflage, “alternatively, thy tongue has bubbled into a pool of poor taste. This outcome pleases me, regardless of reason.” 
	 I jabbed my fist into the undulating stomach rubber. -Chhrsllst- -Ssssh- Its sizzling droning between my ears as my palm bubbled away into a splatter of pale tar drooling down the contours of the contorting snake guts. The pounding burn of high-fiving a pan of hot oil had me crying out in agony; sound caged behind my lips that that webbed together in a tangle of pliant polymer. I'd struggled to withdraw my arm, though the puttering polyethylene stuck to the wall like molten cheese. The Fumes of charred resin stung in my nostrils, fogged up my vision, and wrapped my mind in a hammering blur of ache. My sensations laid rusted, – splattered in my veins – yet I felt my body sinking into one bale of bubbling rubber, and watching all my colours brewing into a uniform, spiralling auburn, whilst the naga merely patted his chest at the resounding fumes manifesting through his frame 
	-Bhuruaaalalp- A gust scented of burning tires and ethanol vinaigrette plumed out through Jarvus's maw, to ruminating delight of the serpent, and revolting dismay of the judges posed to his side. 


~ 2 ~


Being reduced to a slag of old, molten plastic bereft me of even the gloats and sighs of the naga above, instead treating me to a realm of creeping rubber and drumming muscles depositing my frame further along the serpentine sewers. The confinement congesting me, draining me of residual fluids, morphing my frame to a sculpture of pure, rolling bile, ferried through the mud tracts of my abductor. -Bhhrlslghs- Fumes bubbled up through me, separating the globes of hardened plastic I still held agency over, diminishing my presence from the outside world, until the cheers of my audience were but a memory, replaced by the constant chug of flesh, and churn of brewing bog gales. 


~ 3 ~


”Such disappointment,” Jarvus huffed as he shuffled up his tail up above the toilet seat, coils of his tail hoisting up the bloated of his frame – giving him the guise of a snake that swallowed a cudgel… “For an action figure, thy passage through mine bowels has been, at the most, languid.” The fat tail end curled up on the throne, just for a deluge of fumes to rupture through the tail, cascading through the winking waste chute in a flutter of flatulence -Ffrwwbrrltlpswwrth- the air growing moist with the disintegrated polymers boiled off layer by layer from my body. The room taking on a humid character which Jarvus Lamented. 
	“Pha, Control thyself, ‘tis the smallest kindness you can provide, seeing as your parts have had the honour to -mmfs-, pass recycling through my grandiose form, perhaps you could be sculpted into a vestibule of more worth, such as a trash bin, footstool, or diapers, ‘tis a shame I lack to care more for your refuse past the point of ejecting its repulsive presence from my bowels.” -Fpprbwwpppfrth- pFbbrrrtht- The air grew dense in the reeking rubbery smog. 
	In my dazed state it was a challenge to notice any difference in atmosphere once I'd begun to percolate from the serpent's hind, except his voice became all the clearer. I'd wanna jab him right in the nose, -Pfpfbbwth- thought the surrounding bouts of gullet exhaust reminded me of my place in the equation. 
	-Chhnngk- -Crnrnskks- his pucker crinkled as it budged open at my form; a discoloured brown lump, smothered through the journey of the snake's eternal bowels, crinkling back into the world with the polishing creak of wiping a window after a hurricane. 
	“Tsk, Thought being reduced to guttural slag would tamper thy humour, et thy insist on whimpering and whining now,” Jarvus huffed, shifting and his hips, the adjustments trailing down his entire tail, till it dislodged a puff of -Phrhwt- vapours from the pucker enclosing me, spraying my form in foul colon juices laced with my own molten body and cleaving the brim of polymer crinkling around my frame to further emphasise Jarvus's annoyance. 


The bout of fumes heaved out a few hunks of my form, finagling as an extension of Jarvus's tail split from the main appendage, dangling over the toilet-bowl. The fumes ruptured my spotless surface in a foam of pocks; air pockets seeped into my frame and disfiguring even the foul state I had been baked into from the horrendous experience. Well inside the tail – where the temperature was kept at a sweltering heat of a furnace’ heart – my frame budged, moulded and contorted all at the foul whims of the naga's intestines. Once outside, my frame began to crystallise, solidifying so the horrendous gouges and bubbles formed by Jarvus’ expelled fog soldered into my being. -Bpprpwrth- Belches of smog coughed out along my frame, the bulbous tail rippling in the pocks of fumes coursing through the tail popping to ravage my crude umber frame and hoisting the length of plastic purée through the pursing pucker. 
	“Oough, up and coming star, the only star thy remains is close to is my rim, your career appears to be diving into a downwards spiral, straight down the sewers,” Jarvus commented, filing his nails as his tail contorted, mangled and disgorged the collected mass of my molten body, -Chhrllsth- -Shchlrls- squeaking as a polished hunk of congealed honey passing through a straw. 
	The snake dung wormed its way through the brim, warping around chunks jutting out in the smooth texture of cast plastic, hooks of hard pressing forming dulled and sanded outcroppings from the trunk of synthetic sludge. The branches of plastic spruce gave the impression of a segmented grub crawling out the broadened pit, more accurately a poor cast of a brown cactus, swelling in girth to the point of matching the girth of some of Jarvus's later tail sections. -Chhtlslwwpth- -Chtsp- I smacked into the porcelain below, the cooling water crystallising my form as it slumped and folded over itself, curling in tangles of bent rubber at which point I felt the change of my body sinking in, banishing any amount of control I once had over the steaming arches of fat polymer tar billowing free from the naga's behind. 
	“Mmgs, spmgms, gash,” Jarvus huffed, mumbling over one of his nails filed down to a nub in whilst distracted by the load relinquished from his rear. 
	“Thine antics hath yet to disappoint, invoking mine wrath despises mmfs, phhaa… urlsk… Despite the sorry smmfs, state you have been reduced to, Perhaps this is thine shrewd way of Mfmrs, paying tribute, least a few dozen kilos of reeking, black tar holds greater value than you ever posed in life.” Jarvus scoffed and fanned over his nostrils, the pluming malodour of fresh scraps off a leather factory dunked into a vat of contaminated rubber. 


The unanimous feel throughout my body instilled alien sensations; feeling myself being buried by a mound of amorphous abomination of spruce laced plastic – chunks of myself driving into my own globby texture before coagulating solid – at the same time as being that very cragged hunk dropping into my own sloppy shell. And not to mention the onslaught of tensile, glossy plastic billowing out of his pucker, clumping onto me, curling in tangled droves and stretching apart by the force of smearing into the wall of polished porcelain, still tethered to myself in vines of umber and blackened polymer. The pillar of putty percolated from his trembling pucker, serpentine sludge snaking its way in tangled patterns and circling the brim of the bowl when in sloppy droves. 
	After a few attempts at flushing, Jarvus's attention laid devoid of the toilet and me with it. Either trusting the load baring capacity of the throne, or giving me no regards were I to congest the plumbing. 
	“An utter waste,” the naga hissed as the bloats on their tail diminished, funnelling towards the ultimate stop into it, “donning the role of judge was a dreadful bore, and thine flavour did not but irritate my pallette,” the naga scoffed, eyes narrowing with a sinister glow. “To think, me granting you the effort, time of day and dedication, and be left with an afternoon wasted, an empty stomach, ands… mfmsp.”
	-Ppfhhweerth- a cascade of moist, glistening fumes of torched bile and molten leather wasted into the bathroom, the fan kicking in as if, having had enough of my digested body stinking up the place. His voice rose every other word.
	“Pha, that which has provided the highest value of this wretched charade, a crude stack of a putrid excuse for polyphenol weighing down my plumbing.” At the final word his brim responded by mushing up my form in a flurry of rippling fume exchanges -Sppthhsbglth- -Chhrsllpfhfhtgh-.
	The glazed crackle of molten tar steam filtering through moist clay reverberated between the vacuous space above the dung glistening dung pile, and the remaining synthetic sludge pooling out the naga's back end splattered off tar droplets, and sloughed out as a fluff foam of fermented fudge -Chhrllspghth- -Twwmmpdwe-. The mousse petered out over the clogged goblet of a toilet bowl, my smooth, sinuous shape revealed as Jarvus reeled back his tail from the seat; a life-size serving of chocolate pudding, served right into the compost. 
	“An improvement,” Jarvus huffed after throwing the bulbous heap a glance, “Least thy tongue is held in check.” -Cpphfhwllrprth- A burble of putrid gas bloomed out of his rear, speckling me in a hail of clingy droplets of dissolved polymer. 
	“Of course, leaving me in silence would have been too kind of a wreathed hunk such as thy,” Jarvus huffed, wiping his tail over the whole toilet-roll and casually flicking the flush handle. The throne rustled with the blockage I formed in the drain, though soon accommodated my size, warping the tubes swollen and full around my form as siphoned into the drains, disappearing in the curving catacombs of grease and tar, the last I perceived before swallowed up by the moist darkness, were Jarvus's buffed up hips slithering past the doorway. 
	For now, I hoped someone could identify my batch of raw brown plastic as a former popstar, or that at least, all my parts were recycled in the same place.