Best Belcher Ever
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xsini Go check him out and give him some love!
A dragon belch blasted Volkan’s face. The juicy stink of digested fox pulled his lips into a permanent scowl and his eyes into a permanent squint. Despite looking like he just bit into a sour grapefruit, Volkan felt blood flow to his crotch. He folded himself and his arms over his lap to hide a raging hard-on, whimpering.
“Aw, did I trigger you?” Sini grinned. Poison gas still wafted from the vent of his chops like grille smoke.
Volkan flapped his jaw open to speak, cut off by a two-chaptered HURr—aaaAAAaaAAaaaAaAaap. That one knocked him off the log with a plume of flocking bluejays, and he tumbled down the woodland hill. “Yap!” He hit a dirt trail. He tried to sit up. His bones trembled like a deck of cards at a construction site, and the smell of critter musk and acid stew still filled his nose every time he sniffed. Realizing that belch sent him rolling made him blush harder.
Laughing Sini alighted beside him, tucked his gloriously eveninglit membranes of violet. “I’ll take a ‘yap’ as a ‘yep.’ I’m not surprised. Who better to set off a lover of belches than the best belcher ever?”
Superiority teasing. It broke the spell on Volkan enough for him to retort, “Hey, I think you’re forgetting someone, Sini!”
Volkan’s dive into the autumnal forestry cut Sini’s reply off. The dragon heard snaps of twigs, a hungry roar, a shrill kon-kon, a wet gulp, a satisfied sigh. Greasy stomach sounds approached, and back came Volkan with a frantically-maneuvering fox shape in his fluffy belly. He challenged Sini with a pound of fists-on-hips then paused, concentrating on constrictions of his glorping stomach and on his gullet’s air pocket bellying with gas. He waited till Sini’s cheeks flushed like a crush’s.
BlllwwlllllaaaaaaaaAAAaaAAaack! The burp packed in treble what it lacked in bass, but slowly gained on the low end like a fade-in of 808s.
Sini lost his footing in a backward skip, whinnied cutely. “Heh-h yeah. That’d be my scales, alright.”
The pun eluded the grinning wolf. Volkan smoothed his paws over the melting bulge of the fox. It drowsed away as plum stomach acids stewed its flesh into murmuring poison miasma. As Volkan’s supernaturally efficient digestive enzymes broke the vulpine into a gas higher in volume than the mass it was, Volkan’s belly potted out. He was now snickering, striding toward the dragon.
OrrAAAaaaaaaorck! Poison gas like the dragon’s poured as smoky worms out of his wet lips. Volkan marched on with his vulgar maw flapping. Sini fled without turning his back to the wolf, ears fanned down in fright. Teetering hindpaws damn near tripped on his drooping tail. RAAAAAaaaaaaaaorp! In the wake of that grizzly belch, tidals of black scale ripped along the dragon’s body toward his tail. Sini’s involuntarily gulped, encouraging the belch siege to go on. The wolf eructed a monster with a gut-hug. HURroooooooooowp! “ ‘Scuse me babe, what was that you were saying about being the BRaAAoRST?” Fox bones flew out with the speech-belch; high-metabolism digestion wasn’t Volkan’s workaday approach but put his burps on par with Sini’s. It left two serpents of noxious mist snaking from his maw in his path, and an incredibly rotten odor of fur and meat, considering his meal’s freshness.
A sickly infatuated noise climbed out of the dragon’s throat. Sini had no coherent rebuttal. Then, winding the corner, he butted into a traveling kirin and kitsune. He turned, met their eye with a hungry glint; with a stab of screams, leather backpacks slumped to the ground and two pairs of legs kicked from a carnivorous maw. Presently two purple bulges pulsed through his craw, joining the vulpine skeleton of earlier in his maleficent violet soup. All about the acid surface, bubbles swelled and detonated. In a rippling onslaught, atomic bombs tumefied his stomach. “O-ugh.” His gut’s toxic formulae put Volkan’s high metabolism to waste. Seven contractions of his gut later, he had a nuclear arsenal large enough to blow his opponent off the Upper Continent thrice over. But he let the kirin and kistune boil completely away, let Volkan see his cocky grin-of-fangs widen, let his belly balloon and stretch taut the plates. Snatching the wolf up, he pried apart slather-y jaws, which revealed to the wolf his uvula. It shivered wildly.
The first bomb dropped. BrAAAAAAAAAaaaAAAAaaaaAAaaGH! The corners of Volkan’s eyes turned into ready slingshots, tears gusting from them. The gale ended. His ears buzzed, and his muzzle may as well have been rubber. HehyYEAHHHHHHHHROP! HrOOP! HOARK! Moisture gelled Volkan’s facial ‘do into a flash of fire. He could taste Sini’s gamey meals in his mouth and in his nostrils, nostrils blazing. “As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, dear, I’m the BAAAAOSst BwllAAAAALCHer AAAAAAAAHWHWHWPver.” By now, the wolf was lost in a fog of gaseous purple, the likes that smothered lighthouse beams before they could reach sea, the likes that drowned ships.
Ever since Sini shared his poison affinity with Volkan a few months back, though, point-blank belches to the wolf’s face had not been a good idea in belching contests. Volkan inhaled, eradicating the haze; his belly inflated so big, you couldn’t glomp around it. It sounded like he’d downed twenty two-liters of pop. Out of his mouth came a harsh yap, GrAAAAAAA-A-A-A-P! His captor took a blast to the dome that smelled how the meal he just devoured tasted. His grip on Volkan slackened.
Into the woods Volkan scarpered on all fours. Sini chased after him and the chase soon eroded into a race for forest prey. The wolf gobbled up birds and squirrels and rabbits and foxes. The dragon checked out his stomach to similar species, and deer and a grizzly too. But kings always lack the drive that crown-seekers have, and so he lagged behind. In the end they lazed on their mound bellies in a broad clearing, tasting tangy venison on their mouths and hearing and feeling bubbly zippers of gas along their middles. Evening earth stirred. Sini wet his chops, then bugled a deep gassy noise:
Hohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhlllllllrrrrurrp. His grimace cycled through more phases than the seasons. The vulgar stink of his meal made him hungry again, a belly grumble rattling the marinating bones he’d yet to upchuck.
Volkan was quite shaken literally. But refusing to back down, he bounced on his belly to force pent-up gas out of his gas-producing gut. Pouting in concentration, he tucked his chin toward his swelling gullet, pocketing the gas. The wolf hugged himself then outed an oral jackhammer of noise. UrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRCK! Nonbreathable fumes drifted across the lawn. Tips of grass blades withered and greyed. To this Volkan became aware of Sini’s own fumes. He expanded his lungs, clearing the air of venom. Then he released three sharp snares of sound back to back. Herhp! HEHRP! HuRAAAAAP! Though enough to get his own ears buzzing, the burps lacked stamina. So he held out as long as he could (till he saw Sini rearing forward for an ugly, gassy trumpeting), then ground out a gross, meaty one he’d been cooking up. GARRRRURRRRWRRRRrrruuuuuuUURRRLLLCH!
In spite of Sini’s immunity to poison, the quakes and the nose-numbing stench of those burps clouded his mind with a thick cottony lump of infatuation. He tried to compliment his opponent but got interrupted by an ARP. Sini was being boxed into a corner here. If he let Volkan throw too many direct punches, one of them would clock him out for good. But he refused to relinquish his title belt to a mere canine. He closed his eyes to think. After some time, he rolled onto his ribs and blasted a stream of neurotoxin into the woods.
“I don’t think that’s a burp, sweety. I guess you’re giving up?”
Pleased, Volkan’s tummy made a wet noise sort of like a synth string. It was moments before the chitters and kons of woodland critters came cracking toward the clearing. His head twisted. He gasped. Bears and foxes led a brigade of squirrels, birds, deer, raccoons, rabbits, and elk. Wide-strided, they blitzed toward that lazy ass of a dragon who lay on his side, who simply yawned open his mouth; and in they went, the subservient fucks! The way the bulges of round fruits would go sputtering through a hose, so the critters went down the sovereignly reclined beast’s throat. The winged ones swooped in, the small ones leaped, the bigger ones got caught and wriggled their rears till poof! they disappeared. And seeing all this, Volkan almost barfed.
“Suggestive poison? That’s cheating!”
Outlines of creatures small and large squirmed. Sini’s stomach was shaped abnormally, an abomination. The one-and-a-half story mound of purple housed residents of every creed, color, gender, and gurgled and croaked, like a swampy hot spring full of frogs choking on lush algae overgrowth. Sini put his whiskery head upside down. He grinned evilly at Volkan. The wub-wub of stomach juices eroding flesh and marrow served as back-up on his taunt. A comatosing voice, deeper than his usual one, came from him: “Ughh, oh. I s’pose I . . . UWGHHROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGNH . . . ate too—BLaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWRRRRRCK!—too much . . . Does that disq—UuRUHHHHHHHHHHHHP—dis—RooOHHHHHHHHHHHHHaWP—disqualify me?” The beached dragon winked. “Naw, you fuckin’ hypocrite. You’re the one who went out and stUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHH-mmfed yourself first.”
“Really?” the wolf scoffed. “Two can play at that game!”
Reflecting the dragon, he rolled onto his ribs and blasted a stream of neurotoxin into the woods. It wasn’t long before legions of bears, foxes, etcetera (see above) were raining sideways from the kibray and brayan trees into the clearing. The wolf smugly grinned and opened his maw to cubby hole size. With his eyes now shut, he didn’t see the storm of animals sharply veer from him; only felt the pummel of feet screw over to his left ear. Opening his eye he gawked. There before him flooded the whole stampede into Sini’s maw. From Sini’s scaly hide now oozed clouds of suggestive neurotoxin, which smelled to all the forest critters like their favorite nuts and berries and prey. As they stormed down the rocking esophagus, currents of flab poured across the dragon’s expanding stomach. The wolf cried, “Wait! You guys are going the wrong way!” But a story in the woods called The Wolf Who Cried Boy was currently circulating and extremely popular, so no one took his word.
With vocal chords richly deepened by his stuffed stomach, Sini gave a crude harrumphing noise and stretched himself comfortably. Cracking sounds came from the therapeutic pressure on his back from his paunch. Toes of hindpaws rhythmically flexed to the waterbed bounce of his purple midriff. HOHUHRRRRRWWRRRRRUP!! Brayan trunks creaked like old folks’ backs. BRO—ARRRURRRRRURRCK!! Poison mists permeated the no-longer clear clearing. Shapes of captive creatures stopped moving. “How’s about . . . one more to punctuate the point?” BRRRUWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWRRRPPH!!!
It was the sound of two great galleys crashing into each other forepeaks first. Tree branches quaked down, cluttering the edges of the clearing. The smells of charcoaled puke and sour blueberries plagued the atmosphere, a hot and heavy radiation. Sini, busy belching, squeezed down on his stomach. Steamy carcasses pumped out of his maw as surely as dragon flames would: roasted things flopped, crackled along grass. Soon the belch tapered off. And he had a bony pile about his left side as high as a treasure hoard, except duller and stinkier and worthless in the eyes of all but Sini himself. Sini sighed. His belly still reached a story up, and churned and bulged with bits of decay and skeletons. But seeing he was a stuffed poison dragon, his bloating sensation failed to go away; only returned as flesh and even marrow now decomposed to gaseous poison. “Hmmm . . . I think one last gassy roar on your face to turn you into a skeleton—”
“Okay, you won this time!”
“What’s that? Speak louder!”
“You won this time, I said!”
Sini burped deeply in jest. “Thought so.”
A day of awful belching fits passed. When Sini was mobile again, he padded to Volkan and squashed the wolf beneath his belly. The loser’s punishment was an onslaught of soft, slimy, greasy belches to the ear. “Once the best belcher, always the best belcher,” Sini said. He snickered. “Don’t you ever forget.”
xsini Go check him out and give him some love!A dragon belch blasted Volkan’s face. The juicy stink of digested fox pulled his lips into a permanent scowl and his eyes into a permanent squint. Despite looking like he just bit into a sour grapefruit, Volkan felt blood flow to his crotch. He folded himself and his arms over his lap to hide a raging hard-on, whimpering.
“Aw, did I trigger you?” Sini grinned. Poison gas still wafted from the vent of his chops like grille smoke.
Volkan flapped his jaw open to speak, cut off by a two-chaptered HURr—aaaAAAaaAAaaaAaAaap. That one knocked him off the log with a plume of flocking bluejays, and he tumbled down the woodland hill. “Yap!” He hit a dirt trail. He tried to sit up. His bones trembled like a deck of cards at a construction site, and the smell of critter musk and acid stew still filled his nose every time he sniffed. Realizing that belch sent him rolling made him blush harder.
Laughing Sini alighted beside him, tucked his gloriously eveninglit membranes of violet. “I’ll take a ‘yap’ as a ‘yep.’ I’m not surprised. Who better to set off a lover of belches than the best belcher ever?”
Superiority teasing. It broke the spell on Volkan enough for him to retort, “Hey, I think you’re forgetting someone, Sini!”
Volkan’s dive into the autumnal forestry cut Sini’s reply off. The dragon heard snaps of twigs, a hungry roar, a shrill kon-kon, a wet gulp, a satisfied sigh. Greasy stomach sounds approached, and back came Volkan with a frantically-maneuvering fox shape in his fluffy belly. He challenged Sini with a pound of fists-on-hips then paused, concentrating on constrictions of his glorping stomach and on his gullet’s air pocket bellying with gas. He waited till Sini’s cheeks flushed like a crush’s.
BlllwwlllllaaaaaaaaAAAaaAAaack! The burp packed in treble what it lacked in bass, but slowly gained on the low end like a fade-in of 808s.
Sini lost his footing in a backward skip, whinnied cutely. “Heh-h yeah. That’d be my scales, alright.”
The pun eluded the grinning wolf. Volkan smoothed his paws over the melting bulge of the fox. It drowsed away as plum stomach acids stewed its flesh into murmuring poison miasma. As Volkan’s supernaturally efficient digestive enzymes broke the vulpine into a gas higher in volume than the mass it was, Volkan’s belly potted out. He was now snickering, striding toward the dragon.
OrrAAAaaaaaaorck! Poison gas like the dragon’s poured as smoky worms out of his wet lips. Volkan marched on with his vulgar maw flapping. Sini fled without turning his back to the wolf, ears fanned down in fright. Teetering hindpaws damn near tripped on his drooping tail. RAAAAAaaaaaaaaorp! In the wake of that grizzly belch, tidals of black scale ripped along the dragon’s body toward his tail. Sini’s involuntarily gulped, encouraging the belch siege to go on. The wolf eructed a monster with a gut-hug. HURroooooooooowp! “ ‘Scuse me babe, what was that you were saying about being the BRaAAoRST?” Fox bones flew out with the speech-belch; high-metabolism digestion wasn’t Volkan’s workaday approach but put his burps on par with Sini’s. It left two serpents of noxious mist snaking from his maw in his path, and an incredibly rotten odor of fur and meat, considering his meal’s freshness.
A sickly infatuated noise climbed out of the dragon’s throat. Sini had no coherent rebuttal. Then, winding the corner, he butted into a traveling kirin and kitsune. He turned, met their eye with a hungry glint; with a stab of screams, leather backpacks slumped to the ground and two pairs of legs kicked from a carnivorous maw. Presently two purple bulges pulsed through his craw, joining the vulpine skeleton of earlier in his maleficent violet soup. All about the acid surface, bubbles swelled and detonated. In a rippling onslaught, atomic bombs tumefied his stomach. “O-ugh.” His gut’s toxic formulae put Volkan’s high metabolism to waste. Seven contractions of his gut later, he had a nuclear arsenal large enough to blow his opponent off the Upper Continent thrice over. But he let the kirin and kistune boil completely away, let Volkan see his cocky grin-of-fangs widen, let his belly balloon and stretch taut the plates. Snatching the wolf up, he pried apart slather-y jaws, which revealed to the wolf his uvula. It shivered wildly.
The first bomb dropped. BrAAAAAAAAAaaaAAAAaaaaAAaaGH! The corners of Volkan’s eyes turned into ready slingshots, tears gusting from them. The gale ended. His ears buzzed, and his muzzle may as well have been rubber. HehyYEAHHHHHHHHROP! HrOOP! HOARK! Moisture gelled Volkan’s facial ‘do into a flash of fire. He could taste Sini’s gamey meals in his mouth and in his nostrils, nostrils blazing. “As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, dear, I’m the BAAAAOSst BwllAAAAALCHer AAAAAAAAHWHWHWPver.” By now, the wolf was lost in a fog of gaseous purple, the likes that smothered lighthouse beams before they could reach sea, the likes that drowned ships.
Ever since Sini shared his poison affinity with Volkan a few months back, though, point-blank belches to the wolf’s face had not been a good idea in belching contests. Volkan inhaled, eradicating the haze; his belly inflated so big, you couldn’t glomp around it. It sounded like he’d downed twenty two-liters of pop. Out of his mouth came a harsh yap, GrAAAAAAA-A-A-A-P! His captor took a blast to the dome that smelled how the meal he just devoured tasted. His grip on Volkan slackened.
Into the woods Volkan scarpered on all fours. Sini chased after him and the chase soon eroded into a race for forest prey. The wolf gobbled up birds and squirrels and rabbits and foxes. The dragon checked out his stomach to similar species, and deer and a grizzly too. But kings always lack the drive that crown-seekers have, and so he lagged behind. In the end they lazed on their mound bellies in a broad clearing, tasting tangy venison on their mouths and hearing and feeling bubbly zippers of gas along their middles. Evening earth stirred. Sini wet his chops, then bugled a deep gassy noise:
Hohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhlllllllrrrrurrp. His grimace cycled through more phases than the seasons. The vulgar stink of his meal made him hungry again, a belly grumble rattling the marinating bones he’d yet to upchuck.
Volkan was quite shaken literally. But refusing to back down, he bounced on his belly to force pent-up gas out of his gas-producing gut. Pouting in concentration, he tucked his chin toward his swelling gullet, pocketing the gas. The wolf hugged himself then outed an oral jackhammer of noise. UrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRCK! Nonbreathable fumes drifted across the lawn. Tips of grass blades withered and greyed. To this Volkan became aware of Sini’s own fumes. He expanded his lungs, clearing the air of venom. Then he released three sharp snares of sound back to back. Herhp! HEHRP! HuRAAAAAP! Though enough to get his own ears buzzing, the burps lacked stamina. So he held out as long as he could (till he saw Sini rearing forward for an ugly, gassy trumpeting), then ground out a gross, meaty one he’d been cooking up. GARRRRURRRRWRRRRrrruuuuuuUURRRLLLCH!
In spite of Sini’s immunity to poison, the quakes and the nose-numbing stench of those burps clouded his mind with a thick cottony lump of infatuation. He tried to compliment his opponent but got interrupted by an ARP. Sini was being boxed into a corner here. If he let Volkan throw too many direct punches, one of them would clock him out for good. But he refused to relinquish his title belt to a mere canine. He closed his eyes to think. After some time, he rolled onto his ribs and blasted a stream of neurotoxin into the woods.
“I don’t think that’s a burp, sweety. I guess you’re giving up?”
Pleased, Volkan’s tummy made a wet noise sort of like a synth string. It was moments before the chitters and kons of woodland critters came cracking toward the clearing. His head twisted. He gasped. Bears and foxes led a brigade of squirrels, birds, deer, raccoons, rabbits, and elk. Wide-strided, they blitzed toward that lazy ass of a dragon who lay on his side, who simply yawned open his mouth; and in they went, the subservient fucks! The way the bulges of round fruits would go sputtering through a hose, so the critters went down the sovereignly reclined beast’s throat. The winged ones swooped in, the small ones leaped, the bigger ones got caught and wriggled their rears till poof! they disappeared. And seeing all this, Volkan almost barfed.
“Suggestive poison? That’s cheating!”
Outlines of creatures small and large squirmed. Sini’s stomach was shaped abnormally, an abomination. The one-and-a-half story mound of purple housed residents of every creed, color, gender, and gurgled and croaked, like a swampy hot spring full of frogs choking on lush algae overgrowth. Sini put his whiskery head upside down. He grinned evilly at Volkan. The wub-wub of stomach juices eroding flesh and marrow served as back-up on his taunt. A comatosing voice, deeper than his usual one, came from him: “Ughh, oh. I s’pose I . . . UWGHHROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGNH . . . ate too—BLaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWRRRRRCK!—too much . . . Does that disq—UuRUHHHHHHHHHHHHP—dis—RooOHHHHHHHHHHHHHaWP—disqualify me?” The beached dragon winked. “Naw, you fuckin’ hypocrite. You’re the one who went out and stUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHH-mmfed yourself first.”
“Really?” the wolf scoffed. “Two can play at that game!”
Reflecting the dragon, he rolled onto his ribs and blasted a stream of neurotoxin into the woods. It wasn’t long before legions of bears, foxes, etcetera (see above) were raining sideways from the kibray and brayan trees into the clearing. The wolf smugly grinned and opened his maw to cubby hole size. With his eyes now shut, he didn’t see the storm of animals sharply veer from him; only felt the pummel of feet screw over to his left ear. Opening his eye he gawked. There before him flooded the whole stampede into Sini’s maw. From Sini’s scaly hide now oozed clouds of suggestive neurotoxin, which smelled to all the forest critters like their favorite nuts and berries and prey. As they stormed down the rocking esophagus, currents of flab poured across the dragon’s expanding stomach. The wolf cried, “Wait! You guys are going the wrong way!” But a story in the woods called The Wolf Who Cried Boy was currently circulating and extremely popular, so no one took his word.
With vocal chords richly deepened by his stuffed stomach, Sini gave a crude harrumphing noise and stretched himself comfortably. Cracking sounds came from the therapeutic pressure on his back from his paunch. Toes of hindpaws rhythmically flexed to the waterbed bounce of his purple midriff. HOHUHRRRRRWWRRRRRUP!! Brayan trunks creaked like old folks’ backs. BRO—ARRRURRRRRURRCK!! Poison mists permeated the no-longer clear clearing. Shapes of captive creatures stopped moving. “How’s about . . . one more to punctuate the point?” BRRRUWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWRRRPPH!!!
It was the sound of two great galleys crashing into each other forepeaks first. Tree branches quaked down, cluttering the edges of the clearing. The smells of charcoaled puke and sour blueberries plagued the atmosphere, a hot and heavy radiation. Sini, busy belching, squeezed down on his stomach. Steamy carcasses pumped out of his maw as surely as dragon flames would: roasted things flopped, crackled along grass. Soon the belch tapered off. And he had a bony pile about his left side as high as a treasure hoard, except duller and stinkier and worthless in the eyes of all but Sini himself. Sini sighed. His belly still reached a story up, and churned and bulged with bits of decay and skeletons. But seeing he was a stuffed poison dragon, his bloating sensation failed to go away; only returned as flesh and even marrow now decomposed to gaseous poison. “Hmmm . . . I think one last gassy roar on your face to turn you into a skeleton—”
“Okay, you won this time!”
“What’s that? Speak louder!”
“You won this time, I said!”
Sini burped deeply in jest. “Thought so.”
A day of awful belching fits passed. When Sini was mobile again, he padded to Volkan and squashed the wolf beneath his belly. The loser’s punishment was an onslaught of soft, slimy, greasy belches to the ear. “Once the best belcher, always the best belcher,” Sini said. He snickered. “Don’t you ever forget.”
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