It's disgust-o-riffic!
I think I would have rather chewed the insides of my cheeks off. The meat had taken on a faux-leather texture. Like the labia of a whore too long in the game. The smell was vaguely of the same. Penny Arcade knows.
I was barely able to choke down one. As I commenced eating the second, I noticed I was chewing and chewing but the mass in my mouth grew no smaller. It would appear my body was refusing to swallow the delicacy. Chew, chew, chew. As the smell wafted up past my upper palate my gag reflex kicked in and I spat the wet lumps out onto my plate. Now it sits in my gut like a rock. Perhaps I'm mistaken and what I feel is but the vestigial remains of a twin I absorbed in utero and all that remains now of him is a mass of teeth, hair and eyes manifested as a six-pound tumor. Yes. That'd be preferable to what I have just put myself through. Little known fact: Josef Mengele himself refused to feed Arby's to his starving victims at Auschwitz. He simply didn't have the heart to do it.
There's always lunch I suppose. Perhaps I'll treat myself to a samosa or two. Or I could continue in the same vein as breakfast and just rape my throat with a dong made of dried horse shit.
I'm thinking shitdong!
