Oh, no.

Ohhh, no.

This is not going to end well.

This is going so badly.

Why did I think I could do this?

You know what? Alright. Okay. Fine.

I’ll be the bigger serpentem vectem and admit it: attempting to swallow an extra-large male antelope in one go was NOT a solid idea.

It is so very, very stuck.

Goddamnit, Frank. Goddamnit.

You just had to eat the whole thing, didn’t you?

You know better than to try shit like this.

I told myself I wouldn’t do this again. I told myself after the Gazelle Fiasco of 2009 that I would stay in my lane; that I would stick to the familiar, the comfortable; that I wouldn’t, as the old adage goes, bite off more than I can squeeze down my impressively extendable esophagus.

Well, look at me now. Lying here, a stupid, glorified goat hanging out of my jaws. Unable to proceed. Unable to move. Unable to be the sexy apex predator I was just moments ago.

My father would be so ashamed, if he hadn’t been carried off by a Golden Eagle last week.

Oh—oh, sweet merciful Christ, that’s a horn. That is a horn attempting to free itself from my fleshy scales to taste the sweet air of freedom. Get back! Get back down there! I will not be impaled by my own victorious conquest! Squeeeeeeze it down, Frank, you can do it. Squeeze it toward those deliciously digestive stomach juices! Believe in yourself!

Ahhhhhh. There we go. One horn down. One to go.

Man, this was such a mistake.

I gotta say, I knew this was going to happen. I was happily draining the life force from my defeated foe when I thought, “This is a bad idea, Franky. This thing is 600 pounds. Don’t be a fool. You should admit defeat, slither away, and spare yourself a lot of humiliation.” But no, I wanted a cool story to tell the boys. They’d be so impressed. Maybe they’d even finally respect me.

God. I can’t let them see me like this. I look like an impotent sausage.

Is this how I shuffle off this mortal coil? Have I, like the noble Icarus, flown too close to the sun? As I stare down the barrel of my prey hanging listlessly from my disjointed jaws, will its comically spindly legs be the last sight I ever see?

Ooop, here comes horn number two. Who knows, maybe this one will be easier! Going, going, aaaand it’s stuck in my ribcage. Great. Just great.

Okay. Real talk. What’s the plan here, huh, Franky boy? You gonna just lie here like an inflated sleeping bag until this thing bloats badly enough that you explode? Is that what you want? Is that all you deserve, you bastion of gluttony?

Wait- I could puke it up? Maybe? Yeah! Let’s try that! Here we go.


I really thought that would work. Curse these inward-facing fangs!

Oh, woe! Woe! To be stricken with the eternal curse of the overachiever! Forced to slowly, slowly drag this gargantuan antelope past my delicate internal organs, all the while knowing the futility of such an endeavour! Truly, I have been hoisted by my own petard! The pain! The pain!

Ugh. I forgot how furry these jerks are. If I make it out of this I’m going to be spitting out follicles for months.

And there go the shoulders! Phew! My jaws are getting a WORKOUT with this one!

Actually, you know, I’ve never really thought about how cool my jaws are? Like, can any other predator’s jaws split into four different sections? I doubt it. I’m such a special boy. What a nice little moment of reflection in the midst of such a shameful chapter of my life.

Okay, deep breath. You’ve made it to its midsection. You know what? Maybe you can do this after all.

Yeah! Yeah! Here we go! Confidence, Franky! You’re a twenty-foot vicious beast! You’re the terror of the goddamn grasslands! You! Are! The Alpha! Now, suck this cloven-hoofed beast down! SUCK IT!





Look at me now, dad!

He always said I couldn’t do it, but I did it! I can’t move, but that doesn’t matter! The only thing that matters is the beast slowly dissolving away amongst my manly innards. I should never have doubted myself! NONE SHALL DEFEAT ME. I FEEL SO ALIVE.


Oh no.

Is that

Is that a Golden Eagle?

Oh, shit.