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Nine Lives
folder
M through R › Predator
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
6,293
Reviews:
16
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
M through R › Predator
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
6,293
Reviews:
16
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Predator movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter Two
A short hey to my best friend somewhere along the lines, in whose mobile phone I am saved as Bumbrain. I could not make this shit up. Also a little allusion to my all time favourite sci-fi show, Babylon 5.
Nine Lives by Sinvisigoth
Chapter Two
………By the time my stomach was doing the hunka chunka with my spine I was fantasising about a previous offer of creepy crawly yumminess. My insidey bits were anyhow. Many brain things going on inside my head were not so keen. I wondered if perhaps my mouth was located in my stomach instead of my head the thinking part wouldn’t bother me so much…and oh that is a mental picture we will not be revisiting. Eeuck.
~I keep telling you, Mum, once you get past the crunchy part…well there’s more crunchy part…but the upside is it tastes kinda like mouse.~
“Upside?”
~Well, you know that saying how absolutely everything tastes like mouse?~
“No.”
~Really? Wow, I thought everyone knew that one. You went to school right?~
“You are seconds away from me trying to find out if you can digest one of those from the other end.”
~Whoa, why so uptight?~
“Oh, I’m not the one who should be worrying about up or tight.”
~It’s ‘cause you don’t get enough mouse isn’t it?~
“Boris!”
~OK, OK! One super deluxe Big Mac coming right up. Just close your eyes and don’t think about how crunchy it is.~
I swear he has a swagger that would rival Sean Connery’s. Heading for an area behind the pipes where I can’t see him is probably the safest option at the moment. Even with my hands behind my back he knows damn well I’m entirely capable of following through on my threat. Nimble toes run in my family.
Finally, I just give up. Banging my head against the cold floor took my mind off my stomach for a while. Until both parts started throbbing in tandem. Damn my body for ganging up on me like this. OK, stomach, if you’re that intent on eating through my spine, for god’s sake do it in the same place as the ropes.
………I think the aliens have CCTV in here. I swear one of them was smirking when they walked in with a plate of some kind. It looked good. And smelled even better.
Through a complicated form of pantomime I came to understand that the taller of the two was explaining that every world in the known universe has a dish identical to what we call Swedish meatballs. This was it, or these were they…whatever they were they were going in my tummy in ten seconds flat once the big lout had untied my hands. Once he had…errm…untied my…
“Dude. Hey! Where’re you going? Hey! Hands!”
I looked at the plate in front of me and then at the grin on Boris’ face. Then at the plate again. The plate on the floor.
“Oh penis.”
~I…~
“One word, wide-load. Just. One. Word.”
~will be taking my leave just about neeeeooooww!~
Oh well. Once he figured out it was a projectile of the meatball variety he’d been hit with he’d just eat it. By the time he was finished he wouldn’t even remember. Elephants might have memories to match the size of their behinds; Boris just has the behind. Unless he’s like those dinosaurs with a brain in the head and a brain in the bum. Seriously, though, what’s a bumbrain for?
………It took all the dignity, grace and balance I possessed not to fall into my meal. My spine was bent at an unnatural angle and my knees were spread in a kind of supersquat I wasn’t sure my crotch would recover from. I saw a whisker twitch and growled.
“Dude they gave me a bucket of water and I’m sure they love a wet pussy as much as the next guy. Do not test me.”
Looking at the food in front of me I suddenly had a very clear comprehension of why cats and dogs growl while they’re eating. It’s not jealousy or territorial behaviour, it’s fucking humiliation!
………I managed to get the first warm, fragrant morsel up my nose and had to head bang to some silent Mudvayne to get it out again. Never ate bogeys as a child, not starting now. And the next contestant is! Come on down Meatball Number Two! As it was, they were very good, the ones I got in my mouth. The growing pile of inedible ones soon outnumbered the ones that fit my hygiene criteria and I was forced to re-evaluate thoroughly.
Have you ever used your chin as a potato masher? It’s tricky but if you get it juuuust so…THWACK…it works like a charm. Ok, so that one’s a little nasal…SPLAT…and that one had a hair in it…BLAP…that one has a smudge of diesel…BLAM…that one looks like Mother Theresa…WHAP…and this one went wee wee wee all the way home.
I now had a pile of what looked to all intents and purposes like catfood. Boris tactfully eyed the bucket and said nothing.
When I had finished I felt a little less than…fresh. Bluntly put, my face was now a Bolognese palette fit only to be topped with mozzarella and grilled lightly under a low heat.
………I struggled valiantly to my feet. I’d always been a champ when it came to apple bobbing and figured I could manage a wash in the bucket. A quick stagger, a semi pirouette and I smacked face first into the chest of the tall alien guy. An unsteady step back and a quick squint and he swam into focus.
Slap bang in the centre of his well defined abs was a perfect round face painted in Bolognese sauce. I must have had my eyes screwed shut because there were just two round holes in the sauce where they must have been on impact.
………I knew I shouldn’t. It was possibly suicide, almost certainly torture, and no doubt also likely to relegate me to beetle-eater extraordinaire for the rest of my incarceration. The problem was…I just couldn’t help myself. I leaned in close as he stood there amazed, and drew a smiley mouth on the face with my nose. I grinned up at him then fell on my ass and giggled like a ferret on acid until I had to cross my legs for the umpteenth time thus far.
He looked down at it. He looked at me. He looked down at it and skewed his head to one side. Then he looked at me with a distinctly chilly expression. Or so I thought.
“HAVE. A. NICE. DAY.” Came the metallic voice from under the mask. He fell on his ass a lot harder and soon we were rolling around on the floor laughing like a couple escapees from a home for the permanently baffled.
~Whoa, hold still URK hey kids play nice I ACK will you stay put so I can lick this stuff off?!~
Neither of us noticed the small furry object that had insinuated itself between us.
~WHEEEEEEEEEEP! Oh man that’s gonna stain.~
Nine Lives by Sinvisigoth
Chapter Two
………By the time my stomach was doing the hunka chunka with my spine I was fantasising about a previous offer of creepy crawly yumminess. My insidey bits were anyhow. Many brain things going on inside my head were not so keen. I wondered if perhaps my mouth was located in my stomach instead of my head the thinking part wouldn’t bother me so much…and oh that is a mental picture we will not be revisiting. Eeuck.
~I keep telling you, Mum, once you get past the crunchy part…well there’s more crunchy part…but the upside is it tastes kinda like mouse.~
“Upside?”
~Well, you know that saying how absolutely everything tastes like mouse?~
“No.”
~Really? Wow, I thought everyone knew that one. You went to school right?~
“You are seconds away from me trying to find out if you can digest one of those from the other end.”
~Whoa, why so uptight?~
“Oh, I’m not the one who should be worrying about up or tight.”
~It’s ‘cause you don’t get enough mouse isn’t it?~
“Boris!”
~OK, OK! One super deluxe Big Mac coming right up. Just close your eyes and don’t think about how crunchy it is.~
I swear he has a swagger that would rival Sean Connery’s. Heading for an area behind the pipes where I can’t see him is probably the safest option at the moment. Even with my hands behind my back he knows damn well I’m entirely capable of following through on my threat. Nimble toes run in my family.
Finally, I just give up. Banging my head against the cold floor took my mind off my stomach for a while. Until both parts started throbbing in tandem. Damn my body for ganging up on me like this. OK, stomach, if you’re that intent on eating through my spine, for god’s sake do it in the same place as the ropes.
………I think the aliens have CCTV in here. I swear one of them was smirking when they walked in with a plate of some kind. It looked good. And smelled even better.
Through a complicated form of pantomime I came to understand that the taller of the two was explaining that every world in the known universe has a dish identical to what we call Swedish meatballs. This was it, or these were they…whatever they were they were going in my tummy in ten seconds flat once the big lout had untied my hands. Once he had…errm…untied my…
“Dude. Hey! Where’re you going? Hey! Hands!”
I looked at the plate in front of me and then at the grin on Boris’ face. Then at the plate again. The plate on the floor.
“Oh penis.”
~I…~
“One word, wide-load. Just. One. Word.”
~will be taking my leave just about neeeeooooww!~
Oh well. Once he figured out it was a projectile of the meatball variety he’d been hit with he’d just eat it. By the time he was finished he wouldn’t even remember. Elephants might have memories to match the size of their behinds; Boris just has the behind. Unless he’s like those dinosaurs with a brain in the head and a brain in the bum. Seriously, though, what’s a bumbrain for?
………It took all the dignity, grace and balance I possessed not to fall into my meal. My spine was bent at an unnatural angle and my knees were spread in a kind of supersquat I wasn’t sure my crotch would recover from. I saw a whisker twitch and growled.
“Dude they gave me a bucket of water and I’m sure they love a wet pussy as much as the next guy. Do not test me.”
Looking at the food in front of me I suddenly had a very clear comprehension of why cats and dogs growl while they’re eating. It’s not jealousy or territorial behaviour, it’s fucking humiliation!
………I managed to get the first warm, fragrant morsel up my nose and had to head bang to some silent Mudvayne to get it out again. Never ate bogeys as a child, not starting now. And the next contestant is! Come on down Meatball Number Two! As it was, they were very good, the ones I got in my mouth. The growing pile of inedible ones soon outnumbered the ones that fit my hygiene criteria and I was forced to re-evaluate thoroughly.
Have you ever used your chin as a potato masher? It’s tricky but if you get it juuuust so…THWACK…it works like a charm. Ok, so that one’s a little nasal…SPLAT…and that one had a hair in it…BLAP…that one has a smudge of diesel…BLAM…that one looks like Mother Theresa…WHAP…and this one went wee wee wee all the way home.
I now had a pile of what looked to all intents and purposes like catfood. Boris tactfully eyed the bucket and said nothing.
When I had finished I felt a little less than…fresh. Bluntly put, my face was now a Bolognese palette fit only to be topped with mozzarella and grilled lightly under a low heat.
………I struggled valiantly to my feet. I’d always been a champ when it came to apple bobbing and figured I could manage a wash in the bucket. A quick stagger, a semi pirouette and I smacked face first into the chest of the tall alien guy. An unsteady step back and a quick squint and he swam into focus.
Slap bang in the centre of his well defined abs was a perfect round face painted in Bolognese sauce. I must have had my eyes screwed shut because there were just two round holes in the sauce where they must have been on impact.
………I knew I shouldn’t. It was possibly suicide, almost certainly torture, and no doubt also likely to relegate me to beetle-eater extraordinaire for the rest of my incarceration. The problem was…I just couldn’t help myself. I leaned in close as he stood there amazed, and drew a smiley mouth on the face with my nose. I grinned up at him then fell on my ass and giggled like a ferret on acid until I had to cross my legs for the umpteenth time thus far.
He looked down at it. He looked at me. He looked down at it and skewed his head to one side. Then he looked at me with a distinctly chilly expression. Or so I thought.
“HAVE. A. NICE. DAY.” Came the metallic voice from under the mask. He fell on his ass a lot harder and soon we were rolling around on the floor laughing like a couple escapees from a home for the permanently baffled.
~Whoa, hold still URK hey kids play nice I ACK will you stay put so I can lick this stuff off?!~
Neither of us noticed the small furry object that had insinuated itself between us.
~WHEEEEEEEEEEP! Oh man that’s gonna stain.~