Stacking the Deck

Your name is CLUBS DEUCE. You are a member of a notorious and vicious gang of mobsters known as the MIDNIGHT CREW. And you are on a mission. DIAMONDS DROOG, your boss, has sent you to retrieve SPADES SLICK, your other boss. Both of your bosses, actually... Droog is more like Slick's right hand. Or perhaps his trusty yet indifferent-seeming advisor. Meanwhile, you are their humble, clever, cute, yet dangerous little enforcer! Slick would use many other words, but most of them aren't polite.

You are strolling through the dark night streets of the MIDNIGHT CITY, the city where crime never sleeps and shady figures lurk around every corner. But that's not how you think of it. It's such a nice night! The moon is positively beaming, it's nice and cool, and your own humming fills the air. As for your boss that you're meant to find, there's really only a few places that probably is. Slick's never one to abandon the mobster life for too long.

In fact, the first location you check, there he is! A real hole-in-the-wall, the HOLE-IN-THE-WALL. Practically no one goes here. After all, a hole in the wall is kind of a shitty place to have a bar. Slick's sat on a stool with a glass of liquor in his hand, seeming not to notice as you walk in and cheerfully greet him. That's okay, you just repeat yourself a little louder. He tells you to go away. You tell him Droog sent you, but he just grunts and once again tells you to leave.

Well, this is no good. You can't obey both orders! In fact, you were told to bring him back no matter what. You consider your options.

[I] CD: Knock him out and drag him back.

That could tear up his suit! No way are you doing that. Not to mention, knocking him out would be rude. You tried stuffing him in your BATTLEDROBE one time, but he stabbed you when he got out and was really angry at you for a week. Angrier than usual. Surely there's some other method that's reasonable...

Your stomach grumbles suddenly, and imagining the green text that could represent that sound effect makes you think of THE FELT. You hate to borrow a move from your rival gang's playbook, but a move you saw one of them do one time might help! Your short stature helps you approach Slick without being noticed, especially since he's busy yelling for the non-existent bartender to refill his glass.

[I] SS: Realize.

You have no idea what that means. There's nothing to realize. You already told Deuce to fuck off. No one is going to get between you and your bad vibes. Not even this useless non-existent bartender. Why do you even keep going to this place? Have to do everything yourself around here. You get up and go to get a drink from behind the bar.

Or at least, that's what you would do if not for the fact your legs were bound up by something... wet. What the hell? You look down and see Deuce down there where your feet should be. You ask him just what he thinks he's doing. He makes a muffled noise and it's then that you realize your legs are halfway down his throat. You weren't even sure he had a mouth before.

You order him to stop that, but he actually swallows again, a strong GULP that pulls you in down to your waist. Alright, you demanded nicely.

[I] CD: Watch out!

You are already feeling positively admonished! You feel bad you're taking so long, but this is the only way you could think of. Slick looks mad, but this is better than dragging him and won't cause any suit damage a dry cleaner can't fix, probably. Your stomach is already starting to feel full, but you open your throat and let more of your boss slide in.

Oops, that made him drop his trusty OCCAM'S RAZOR! You'll have to pick that up once you're done swallowing him down. He's off the stool now, your mouth wrapped around his chest. He starts flailing his arms around, gosh, he must be so excited! Well, he doesn't sound too pleased, but it's hard to get a bead on him.

Still, you can't have that. You grab his arms and shove them in your mouth, allowing you to slurp up the rest of his chest with ease. Maybe you should have taken taken off his suit beforehand to keep it clean. Definitely not because you think his carapace might be tastier! That would be weird. Slick just keeps swearing and cursing as you swallow more, your gut really testing the resilience of the buttons on your suit. You wish you could tell him to calm down, but he wouldn't listen, and you've never been one to turn down a challenge! Glk.

[I] SS: Do literally anything.

Okay wise guy, let's see you stop yourself from being swallowed by your shortstack mook. You don't even know how the hell he's fitting you in, guy's like a quarter your size! You struggle and squirm, but you have to admit, Deuce has you in a vice. A terribly warm, wet, and squishy vice, but a vice all the same. But you're not going down without a fight. Even if you've been cleverly disarmed, you still have your-- No, wait, you can't move a damn muscle. He's got you good.

Now your face is finally slipping into that mouth hidden all this time. Right below those innocent empty eyes of a killer. You could've never known, all this time, he was planning to make you a meal. Well, he's got you good. You always thought you'd go out in a blaze of glory, an explosive finale, riddled with bullets, decapitated by a ninja or something. But this... this is just stupid. You tell him to mind where he puts that tongue, but he doesn't seem to listen.

[I] CD: Swallow.

GULLLLRK! You enjoyed finally getting a taste of his licorice body, but it was time to send him downward! As you feel him briefly bulge down your throat, your stomach expands in kind. It's too much for your poor, innocent suit. Several buttons pop off, ricocheting off the walls or flying out into the night street. Guess you'll need to hit up the tailor! At least Slick's suit is probably mostly okay. You pat your belly, now very distended and bulging out onto the floor. You ask Slick if he's doing okay in there. Though before you can hear his response, there's one more thing:

BUWOOOOUUURRRRPPPH.

You politely excurse yourself before your gut turns into a torrent of expletives and a demand for you to let him out. He says it's awful and describes your stomach in what he intended to be revolting detail, but it actually sounds quite cozy to you! You rub roughly where his head is and assure him this is just temporary while you carry him back to Droog. He swears again but asks you to just hurry up. You make sure to pick up his knife before slowly waddling out. The cold night breeze is much brisker now that you've been relieved of your clothes! If only you ever thought that far ahead.

[I] SS: Dramatic escape.

No matter how much you kick and writhe, you're not going anywhere! Seems Deuce has you right where he wants you. Although really, it's so tight you can hardly move a muscle. You can feel each step of his gait as his belly smacks the ground, hear every last thing his stomach has to say to you. You don't speak stomach, but it seems his is plenty happy to have you. Maybe a little too happy, even.

You hit the side of your prison and say hey, ease up on the digestion! It sloshes as he keeps walking. He says he's not going to digest you! You say you think his stomach didn't get the memo. He tells you to not be silly, he's just taking you back to Droog. You tell him if you don't make it back in one piece, you're gonna come back to life and make him pay. He doesn't have anything to say about that.

His stomach, however, won't shut up. In fact, it gets louder and noisier as time goes on, gurgling all around you. Slick juices start to soak your clothes and then your body, much to your annoyance. You try to get Deuce's attention once again, but he seems to be humming some sort of ditty to himself! God damn it. Have to do everything yourself around here. At least, that's what you would before a dramatic escape, were you able to perform one. All you can do is wriggle and wobble in place.

[I] CD: Let him out.

It's not time yet! You're still a ways away from your underground hideout and besides, what's the rush? Spades Slick is tucked safely away in your belly. He keeps trying to complain and struggle, but it's not uncomfortable! Feels pretty nice, even. Occasionally it makes you let out something like a buuuuuooorrrup and you excuse yourself to be polite, even though nobody's around. You heft your belly up a bit to help keep it off the ground, feeling it up as you do. Slick sits in there quite heavily, though the underside is nice and squishy! You wonder if Droog would be interested in feeling it too, or maybe your other friend/gang member HEARTS BOXCARS.

It's such a nice night, you take your time walking back. Your belly doesn't help either, slowing you down to an awkward waddle. It groans and gurgles with each step; you wish you spoke stomach, so you could tell what it was saying! You guess it likes having Slick inside it, and you have to agree. You almost wish you didn't have to let him out, but... no, that would be rude! Maybe you can ask him to do this again later, or one of the others. Who wouldn't want to sit inside such a soft and cozy little space? You would do it too, if you didn't like this so much.

[I] ==>

An hour or so later, you finally return. Getting down into the underground hideout is a bit of a struggle with your new gut! You manage to remove the manhole cover, but then your belly causes you to get stuck in the entrance. You wriggle in place, slowly shifting an inch down at a time. You ask Slick if he can help, but he doesn't respond. That's okay, you can figure it out on your own! You start pushing down into your doughy stomach, trying to force it in.

All of a sudden, it works. There's a shlumpf as it slips past the opening, unsticking you, and then you fall straight down. You skip all the rungs and land right on the ground, but fortunately your newly cushiony gut breaks your fall! You hope Slick isn't too roughed up in there. Diamonds Droog and Heart Boxcars stare at you and you wave at them cheerfully. You let them know you brought Slick back. Droog puts down his newspaper and asks where he is. You point to your belly.

He doesn't say anything for several seconds. You ask him if he'd like to feel it, because it's really soft and nice. No, he would not like to feel it. Well that's okay, maybe some other time. You would do a little happy dance of mission accomplishment if you could move that easily, but instead you just sit on the ground and drum on your tummy with a pleased expression. Droog asks you if you can let him out. You say oh yeah!

[I] SS: Exit.

Deuce's stomach rumbles as he prepares to let you out. He ends up releasing a loud, long belch that could be written as HUOOOOOORRRRRRRUUUUUPPPPPP or something along those lines, but all that comes out is... a half-melted hat. It turns out you actually cannot be Spades Slick as he is currently little more than a SATISFYING SLURRY! Instead, you continue to be Clubs Deuce.

You stare down at what remains of your boss' hat. It seems... it seems your stomach was, perhaps, not as safe of a place to be as you thought! Well, maybe he's still stuck in there? You gently jiggle your gut around, trying to see if you can get Slick to say anything besides gurgle and glorp. Unfortunately, he doesn't seem to be very interested, or capable.

You look up at Droog and start trying to frantically explain why you decided to do this. After all you didn't want to knock him out or get stabbed or ruin his suit, so this seemed like the best method! Sure, you were a little hungry, but you didn't really think Slick was food, even if your stomach wasn't on the same page there. Even if he was pretty yummy and filling! You didn't mean to say that out loud.

Droog doesn't seem to have anything to say about this. However, you do notice what seems to very possibly be a slight smile. A hint of amusement, perhaps? Maybe he does like your tummy! Or just finds Spades Slick's current predicament funny. Regardless, he just says that's a shame and sits back down, lighting his and opening his newspaper back up.

Hearts Boxcars, however, seems to have other ideas. He walks up and towers over you. At first you're worried he's going to beat you senseless, but then he says to open up. You say huh? He says he'll just reach in and grab the boss, easy-peasy. You say oh. You're not sure there's anything to grab at this point. He says you want the boss out or not? You're not sure how to answer that, so you open your mouth.

[I] CD: Be Hearts Boxcars.

You are now Diamonds Droog. You are enjoying some quiet time with your 'newspaper' now that Spades Slick isn't around to shout or concoct some violent plan. Digesting away in the little guy's gut wasn't how you expected him to go out, but you have to admit he looks good there. Not that you want to encourage Deuce, not that he needs encouragement either. Maybe there's a way to bring him back? In the meantime, you'll have to see if there's a tailor in town that could possibly squeeze all that girth into a suit.

For now, you enjoy perusing your sordid literature. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see some sort of situation unfolding; looks like Boxcars has taken up issue with Deuce. You can vaguely see him thrust a hand into the little guy, for what goal you have no idea. You sigh and flip the page. Can't there be one normal day around here? Even without Slick, there's always some shit hitting the fan.

Boxcars' voice picks up. He's saying hey, stop swallowing. Deuce replies with a bunch of unintelligible muffled garbage. You try to keep fixated on the monochrome ladies in your hands instead of the nonsense behind it. Boxcars says Deuce needs to let go or else he's gonna a knuckle sandwich, and it won't taste as good. There's a loud sound and then Boxcars is all muffled too.

Ever so slightly, you tilt your newspaper down so you can bare witness to the travesty befalling your remaining crew. Boxcars' upper half is gone, apparently stuffed away inside Deuce. You can see some distinct bulges starting to show up in his gut, Boxcars' arms it seems. Soon enough, his face. You were fine seeing the aftermath, but this is just freaky. You grunt in disapproval and pull your newspaper back up to at least spare your vision, though the background swallows refuse to be tuned out.

[I] CD: Stop.

You're trying! Sort of! It was awkward enough when Boxcars shoved his burly arms down your throat, but you swear the swallowing was instinctual. Although now that he's halfway in, well... it doesn't feel that bad. He's so much more filling than Slick, that's for sure! He's not coming back out right away, so you start pulling him in with your hands, screwing your eyes shut as you struggle to stretch wide enough to accommodate him. Fortunately, your stomach is more than happy to make room!

Your belly bulges out further and further with each glk, groaning audibly as it does. Maybe you should have made more of an effort to stop this, or not agreed to open your mouth, but there's no stopping the idiot wagon once it's in motion. You start having to pause for air, but just keep swallowing. Boxcars struggles the whole way down, just to make things more difficult. He only pauses when your hands briefly, completely accidentally, find themselves over his rear. Whoops! You quickly swallow that too to hide your shame.

After several minutes, you are finally finished. You pant, laying on your own belly as the Hearts Boxcars-shaped bulge squirms around, seemingly trying to get settled. He asks you to let him out now. You say HUUOOOORPPH. He says that's disgusting, now let him out. You say you don't know how. He says you better figure something out. You don't say anything, but you look in Droog's direction.

You rub over your stomach as you do, considering your options. You... sort of don't want to let him out. You're really full now, way fuller than with Slick, but you think you could maybe have a little room left. You can hardly believe you're still hungry, but as you think about it, your gut grumbles in support. No, wait, you're not going to just eat your last crewmate, your other boss! No, you just need him to... figure something out. The best way would be for Droog to go inside, so he can help Boxcars get out. Yeah, this makes total sense to you. You start slowly shuffling over, dragging your gut across the ground.

[I] DD: Realize.

You are actively trying to realize as little as possible about what's happening in the room around you. This nonsense has gone on far too long. It's absurd is what it is, and you've never been into dada. Judging by the sounds you're guessing Deuce is done with Boxcars, but you're not planning on looking again until that man is just as soft as Slick. Although you can hear Deuce scraping around. Getting... closer?

The second you feel saliva around your feet you put your newspaper down. You look down and see Clubs Deuce, his mouth wrapped around your legs. You ask him what he's doing. His response is muffled and he gestures to you and to the absolutely massive Boxcars-shaped bulge in his gut under him. You've never been one for riddles, but you figure this makes as much sense as anything else around here.

You reach for your gun which you just can't find. Right, because Slick stole it and he shot and he missed the other day. Well, isn't that just dandy. Instead, while you still have access to your hands, you reach into your jacket and pull out a cigarette. As Deuce swallows, pulling you off your chair and knee-deep into his body, you realize your lighter is missing too. You ask him if he has a light. Deuce's eyes beam and he reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling his lighter out. You say thanks.

There's nothing for you to do but watch as Deuce just keeps swallowing. He's making it pretty clear he's enjoying this even if he keeps acting like it's for a good reason, as if there could ever be a good reason for this. You tell him he better find some way to bring the three of you back or else. He makes some noises that seem to insist he's not planning on digesting you, but you're no fool.

You tell him to just find some machine in the city, some magic bullshit, hell, go ask the Felt. He mumbles affirmatively as he swallows again, pulling you in past your waist. You guess it's starting to come pretty natural for him, by now. You're only a little taller than Slick, an easy meal compared to the big lug. It's pretty uncomfortable the way you're halfway slid off the chair, but another solid gulp pulls you off it entirely.

You tell him to watch where he puts his tongue as he creeps ever closer to swallowing you entirely. He pauses right before reaching your head, his eyes looking at your cigarette. You stare at him a few moments before rolling your eyes. He's eating you and he can't even let you finish smoking in peace? Criminal. You blow smoke in his direction, causing him to cough around you (and accidentally swallow some more) while you stub it out in a tray barely in arm's reach.

[I] CD: Finish up.

With your tongue curled around the back of Droog's head, you pull him in and close your mouth. Glurk! You let out a sigh of relief as he slides down your throat, cramming right in alongside Boxcars. With considerable effort you turn over, leaning your back against the chair. After your gut finishes sloshing around, you let out a long belch that fills the empty hideout. Once it's gone, the only sounds left are some muffled, brief conversation between Boxcars and Droog, along with the ambient gurgling of your gut.

You let out a yawn as you pat your belly once more. Hopefully Droog can figure out a way to get himself and Boxcars out! If not, well... You tried your best, and besides, they feel so good in your stomach. As you rub your stomach some more you start to doze off, only stopped by the occasional required burp from your gut's constantly shifting occupants. At least your belly makes for a nice pillow like this...

[I] DD: Cleverly escape this predicament.

Diamonds Droog cannot make his clever escape, because now, several hours later, he is merely part of a DOUGHY DERRIERE! Clubs Deuce stirs to life after a well-earned nap, stretching his little arms. He opens his eyes to see a black mound before him, the memory of what he did soon hitting him. He blinks in surprise and places his hand on his belly, pressing down as if to check if it's real. Sure enough, his new weight is incredibly real, and incredibly heavy.

He manages to stand up easier than before, though stumbles slightly as he gets used to his new balance. Now that the rest of his crew is just his DOUGHY DERRIERE, HUGE BELLY, and SOFT SIDES, he can actually walk without his gut dragging along. Though he is way rounder than before, not to mention his clothes have burst in all-new ways! Now he'll really need a tailor.

After taking a few steps he lets out a loud belch, BUWOOOOOOOOUUURRRRRP, releasing an assortment of clothing scraps. He's shocked they've really all been digested. Just carapacian chub for li'l ol' him. As he aimlessly wanders through the hideout, fondling his newfound plushness, he comes across a mirror. He's surprised to see how much he's grown, but more than that... Some cute little tattoos!

Front and center on his gut, Hearts Boxcars' disembodied face sits there with what strikes Deuce as a somewhat flustered expression. On his hips, Slick is there, looking as pissed as ever. Deuce can't help but giggle imagining the boss, stuck there. He wonders if he can still think like that... He wonders if he shouldn't just leave Slick there permanently. Saving that decision for another time, he twists around to see his own newly plump ass. Droog is plastered across his right cheek, somehow managing a completely neutral expression. Deuce gives it a little slap for his own amusement.

Turning back around, Deuce just jiggles his belly in place, enjoying seeing it move. He thought he'd feel bad about eating them, especially since what happened to Slick was mostly an accident... But this felt great! It'd be hard for him to do gang business all on his own, and he knew he wasn't really a planner or muscle, but Deuce didn't exactly feel like trying to reform them right away. They weren't going anywhere, surely he could wait a while. In the meantime, he was perfectly content to just sit and relax as a one-man crew... and maybe once in a while he'd go get a 'snack' or three.