I feel dirty. Smash better hold up his part of the deal.

"Fried Ricer!"

The titular Fighting Foodon cried out the only phrase he new with a louder, more urgent tone than Chase had ever heard him before.  Sweat poured off of his carb-loaded coiffure and finely toned, muscular body as the fried Foodon briefly paused, before plunging his distinct lack of a mouth down onto Sir Dumplings doughy head.  Even with his hard, stiff plate jutting outwards from his neck, Fried River was still burying the dapper gentle-foodon in his tender embrace, muffling a faint "Good Show! Pip Pip!".  Chase didn't know how to react to seeing Fried Ricer and that annoying kid's Foodons in such an... intimate embrace, and could only look on in a peculiar mix of awe and arousal as the two slowly began to strip, never letting their featureless heads separate and end their empassioned kiss....