Everything was going so well for Spice. Another conquered beauty contest was recently added to the ninetales’ accolades, and there was another one just one town over. He’d be the champion of every contest in the region before long! A lavish banquet had followed his victory, its effects on his physique serving to make future contests a shoe-in. Spice had had himself groomed the day after, and possessed a shiny clean fur coat to prove it: Every hair from the top of his head down to each of his tails was in its place, turning heads and garnering looks of approval from any civilized pokémon Spice strutted by. He’d left the town showing off his fancy scarf and swaying his hips, leaving its residents with a perfect view of the primary asset that had sealed his victory.
All he had to do now was cross through a pleasant-looking forest housed by wild pokémon and Spice would have another contest winner to gloat about. His eyes brimmed with delight imagining all the deserved attention and praise he’d get. A simple trek through nature would be a literal walk in the park for a pokémon like him!
Right?
“Oh for goodness sake!” Spice yanked his neck harshly from a sagging tree branch that the edge of his scarf had just caught on. He growled and pulled until it tore free. The ninetales checked for damage and sighed as the tiniest of holes was visible in the fabric. “Blast this cursed forest!” he spat, flicking the damaged scarf around his neck and stomping off in another random direction. “They said the town was close!” He pitched his voice and put on a dumb expression. “‘Oh it shouldn’t take more than 30 minutes!’ Two hours and counting, Wynne!” The fuming fire type’s tails fanned and flicked irritably. Spice didn’t even bother keeping them off the ground he was so incensed and distracted. “Seems every time I turn a corner I’m right back where I started!” He continued muttering and mumbling to himself until the trees parted and the foliage gave way. Spice perked up with relief to see… the town he was coming from.
One strangled cry and incinerated tree later, Spice was stomping heavily through the forest once again. If the egotistical ninetales’ temper tantrum did anything for him, it seemed to draw the wild pokémon from hiding. This time around Spice noted several pokémon milling about along the way, though he largely ignored them as he was concentrated on finding his way along by himself. “Not like any of them can talk, let alone point me in the right direction. Wild ruffians, the lot of ‘em!” One particular sentret had his curiosities sated when he was glared down at by a pair of very frustrated purple eyes. “Skedaddle!” Spice barked, and the normal type fled. Spice snorted very un-beauty-contest-champion-like and continued on, every tail of his oozing his ire with fitful flicks and twitches.
An hour ticked by. Spice was wincing with every step he was taking now, and even plopped his butt down to nurse his poor paws for a bit. The dainty things weren’t injured in the slightest, but Spice was not used to so much walking! “Look at them. I’m going to need another bath and a pedi before I’d even look remotely presentable!” He didn’t dare look at the state of his tails which he knew had become intimate with the forest grass at this point. Spice groaned as he picked himself off and pouted. His body nagged at him to rest but the civilized pokémon knew that wasn’t an option. He did not intend to go camping! He had to doll himself up for tomorrow’s beauty contest!
“No time to dawdle… Ugh. Fine. Suppose maybe one of these lowlifes might possibly know a way out of here.” Reluctantly, and with wounded pride, Spice began to look for other pokémon to help him out. He approached a fluttering beautifly who, to his shock, completely ignored him! “Hey! Don’t you know who I am?” The bug type didn’t seem to care, fluttering deeper into the forest and away from the noisy stranger. “Uncultured swinub!” Spice had half a mind to give the beautifly a heated parting gift, but it was too far away for him to hit. “Not worth my time.” That excuse was enough for him, Spice trotting away angrily. More pokémon crossed his path, and each one left him more frustrated than the last. Not a single one spoke a word to him, and either dug deep into their burrows or simply left. Spice was growing worried in addition to angry too, since the day wouldn’t last forever and he didn’t have the time to spare.
Spice’s coat was a mess. His scarf looked like it hadn’t been washed in ages. A loose leaf or two clung to some of his tails. “Hey, you!” Spice called up to a pokémon loosely-dangled from a large tree limb. “Excuse me, I need some help here!” Spice glared up at the large serpent pokémon that dozed. It was a large arbok, whose hood was limply dangling about the branch and tail idly twitching over the edge, was bound about the tree. Upon hearing the haughty fire type, he peeked a single eye open and glared down at the interruption of his nap. Spice’s ears perked at seeing Arbok awaken, only for the snake pokémon to close his eye and flit his tongue out idly.
“Hey! I’m talking to you!” Spice’s puffed his chest out. “You know who I am, of course?” No response. “...I’m Spice Blasé! Winner and champion of the most recent beauty contest hosted just outside this place you call a home! Not to mention countless others!” Arbok looked unconvinced. Mostly as he was still trying to sleep. “Hello?” Spice exclaimed. That did cause the arbok to peek an eye open again. Another flick of the serpent tongue followed. This time, however, his eye stayed open. “That’s better. Now, does any of this look familiar?” Spice flashed Arbok his award-winning smile, sharp teeth giving off a twinkle. He ran a paw through his well-kept mane and flicked his head, scarf and fur alike tossed about vibrantly. He fluttered his eyes at the nonplussed serpent pokémon and began to pose, quickly shifting from one to the next as any beauty contest regular could. Spice could tell he had the arbok’s attention now, as he had lifted his head a fraction and had two eyes focused on the ninetales. Knew he’d come around.
Arbok stared intently at the posing pokémon. His tongue flicked in and out more frequently as Spice stood to the side, lifting a paw and stretching out a hind. Another pose fanning his tails out in a semi-circle, every one poised in an exact position and curled in the same manner. The taste in the air was palpable to the arbok as he continued flicking his tongue, eyes confirming what he was sensing: Thick hips jostled about when Spice walked about in a circle, tails flicking up to reveal a large rear that jiggled whenever a hind paw struck the earth. A barely-audible grumble bubbled up from the arbok’s coiled midsection.
Spice never took his eyes off the arbok, keeping his head turned to face him at all times. He kept that grin and lidded expression on his face, clearly wooing his target audience. After several minutes of posing, Spice stopped and stood confidently. “So, now that you’ve gotten a free show, would you mind pointing me to the next town over? It’s okay, I know you simpletons here can’t speak. Just pointing the way would be enough.” Arbok’s tongue flickered again. Did something wet just drip to the ground? Spice dismissed it as a trick of the light, delighted instead to see Arbok make his way down the tree, coiled to the trunk, and slide heavily along the ground. Spice felt the tip of Arbok’s tail brush along a hip. “Hey now, no touching. If you want to brush my fur, all you have to do is pay m– ACK!”
Arbok struck. One instant he was relaxed about the ninetales. The next, his coils had slapped up around Spice’s middle, looping several times and squeezing tightly. Spice gasped for breath, his forelegs bound to his sides and hindlegs vainly kicking as they were hefted off the ground. His tails flailed in a sudden panic, sending his plush cheeks jostling, while flinging his head about desperately. Spice froze when Arbok’s hood splayed wide before him, the ninetales subjected to a fierce hiss. “Actually, you vain fool, we can speak just fine.” Spice tried to offer a retort, but a fresh squeeze from the coils bound around him reduced it to a soft squeak. “Us ‘simpletons’ merely elect not to speak to fools, as it is a waste of energy.”
“A waste of…? You simple-minded serpent! What’s the meaning of this?” Spice growled and flung his head this way and that, but the coils didn’t budge an inch.
“Is it not obvious?” Arbok chuckled, tongue flitting out with the tip playing about Spice’s shocked nose. “You’re an utterly annoying creature, who is probably just as disliked among your own kind as you are here. So I’m taking care of you, right now. Two flying types with one stone, I believe the expression is.” Arbok clapped his maw open and shut, drool beginning to seep out and down his lips. He leaned up to a cringing Spice and licked the ninetales. The noisy slurp slithered up past his ear, leaving drool dripping from the tip. “The world will be rid of your putrid ego. And I get a plump, scrumptious meal to enjoy for lunch.” Another squeeze drew Spice’s mouth agape, eyes bulging from the pressure and shock. “Mmm… Your soft pudgy form will taste so good going down. And don’t worry your pretty little head,” Arbok sneered with a lick of his lips. “You can brag to me all you want. You’ll have days to do so once I’m finished with my meal.”
“No!” Spice shouted, more afraid than angry. “You can’t eat me! I’m Spice Bl– wheeze!” Shifting coils squeezed tighter than before, leaving Spice with barely enough time to breathe, let alone boast.
“You are a meal, and nothing more,” Arbok corrected as he tasted the ninetales again, tongue coiling around Spice’s muzzle and pulling off slowly. “And you need not concern yourself with any more contests. By the time I’m all done with you, the last thing you will be called is beautiful.” Spice’s eye twitched as that horrifying vision crossed his mind. He flinched when Arbok’s tail suddenly caressed Spice’s quivering butt, pressing up against the cheeks while the tip pat-patted it. The drool intensified, Arbok’s maw slowly spreading wide open before the ensnared fire type.
Fear was apparent on Spice’s expression, eyes bulging not from the tight coils but out of pure terror. “N-n-no… Please...” Spice begged into the maw that oozed heated saliva over his face. Thick gobs bowed out, coupled with exhales of stale arbok breath. He scissored his hind legs uselessly through the air, tails flailing mindlessly in all directions. “Let me go! PLEASE STOP!!!!” Spice’s whines only encouraged the pokémon that was sick and tired of that voice. Arbok’s thick tongue slithered down Spice’s chin and neck, sinking into the fur, as his jaws pushed over the ninetales’ wailing head. The mouth squelched closed thickly and Spice shrieked into the heated wet darkness. The jaws locked just over right around the shoulders, Arbok purring at the sound of silence… and a tasty meal sliding towards his gullet! “Nooo!!!” Spice couldn’t stop himself from sliding snout-first into the pulsating gullet lined with saliva. His muzzle pushed down into the throat with a sickening UH-GLRK ringing in his ears. The protesting bulge in Arbok’s neck twitched about, Spice writing in terror as he began to get eaten alive.
Arbok’s hood was limp once more, the tips brushing along the ground with his head parallel to it. His jaws worked open and closed each time he fed more of his whiny prey deeper. Spice cringed and coughed with his body sinking deeper down the bulging snake pokémon gullet, every small glk and ulk sending a chill down his spine. His shoulders and chest fit easily into the consuming Arbok’s jaws, the fur matted down with hot sticky drool enhanced by the tongue pressing and slurping every which way. The coils worked in tandem to feed the ninetales along, Arbok’s eyes fluttering closed as the slow task of devouring the ninetales was carried out. GLUK! SLRR-ULP. GLK...
Spice felt his doughy butt compress into the coils, leaving his hind legs and many tails sticking out straight from the coils. He tried to flail them, but Arbok bound them all up neatly with the edge of his tail in short order, leaving Spice with little means to protest. Another thick swallow squeezed Spice further, forcing his head beyond the throat and into the stomach properly. A terrible stench filled his nostrils while an eager grrrrln filled his ears. He clenched his forepaws as they were gulped down along with his middle, the ninetales belly splayed in the jaws and rump lining Arbok’s lips. Arbok heard the pitiful wails from within his body and chuckled, the laughter reverberating and sending a fresh cry out from his meaty meal. Spice renewed his struggles, though with only his bulging butt and beyond protruding from the serpent pokémon’s lips, it accomplished nothing.
Arbok tossed his head slightly and slithered forward more, the jaws sliding wetly over the plump cheeks that Spice valued so. The many tails and two hind legs were now unbound, with Arbok now flat against the ground and tail straight out behind him. The snake’s body was bulging out with the obvious form of a nearly-devoured ninetales, complete with twitching legs, thrashing middle, and muffled whines emitting from his midsection. Arbok worked his jaws down against the squishy rear several times over, hot drool running down the protruding crevice of Spice’s furry butt with other rivulets leaking down the cheeks. Arbok lurched forward again – NNGLUK! – Spice’s stomach forced into the tight throat and widening the many bulges already sported. The base of Spice’s tails was slurped at, tongue coiling around the wide base playfully before Arbok focused on squeezing up against the scrumptious rump proper. Arbok’s cheeks bulged with the wide hips he was taking in, another GLURP ringing out when he squeezed his jaws tightly about Spice’s rump. The thick furry tails began to follow after Arbok had managed to work the fattest part of the ninetales inward. Spice heard it all as his body began folding in on itself, his muzzle tucked to his chest. SCHLRRRRRP...
Spice felt his limp hind paws grow soaked in saliva as the arbok’s tongue flowed out to meet them. Five of his tails were completely submerged in the jaws, two having caught up over his hips and pressing into the throat. His bulging buttcheeks straddled over the base of Arbok’s tongue, which, after coiling playfully around the hind paws, was all-too-eager to explore. Spice grunted and groan, tingly acids pressing to his head as it inched back up towards the opening of the throat. “Gotta… get… out!” He did his best to ignore the slurping sounds, the remaining four getting slurped in one at a time. SCHLORP! SCHLRRRRRK… Arbok murred and buried his tongue into the crevice of Spice’s juicy rear, letting the flab fold around it and immerse his taste buds in flavor. The extended tasting only gave Spice more time to start worming his way up the throat, painfully bent but managing to sneak his muzzle back into the tight esophagus.
SCHLURRRRRRRP! The last of Spice’s tails, along with his hindpaws, disappeared behind drool-soaked scaly lips. The pudgy rear was at the precipice, already feeling the tight squeezing of the gullet, with all the tails and legs bunched up behind it. Arbok swallowed the rest of Spice whole with the strongest, slimiest swallows of the entire meal. GLRK! SCHL-GLURRRP! ULK, GLP, GLK… GLORK! The bulging butt stood out the most among the coils as it sank down, with the tails and legs following up much smaller and bumpier along the way. “Haahhh,” Arbok churred, smacking his lips loudly, not noticing that the bulges of his neck were doubling up. “That was an excellent meal. You’re right where you belong now, Spice...”
Arbok began to chuckle, just as he felt something worming his way up his throat! It wasn’t the throes of a belch… In fact it was grunting! With a loud splrch Arbok’s jaws shot open, saliva-coated forepaws pressing up and down against tooth and tongue alike. Spice’s head stuck out, the devoured ninetales gasping desperately for breaths of fresh air. A viscous mixture of saliva and stomach fluids dripped from his face, eyes bulging and filled with a mix of terror and rage. “This is not where I belong!” Spice claimed, teeth clenched as he struggled to hold the jaws open. “I’m… not… your meal! You’re going to be a scarf when I’m through with you! I’m… Your...” Arbok, stunned momentarily from the violent act, had recovered. Spice’s paws began to quiver as he felt an immense pressure building near them. Arbok’s jaws formed a grin, knowing he had every advantage now. Spice felt a grrrrn from below in the belly, where his plush backside and thick tails were immersed in. It was almost as if it was calling him back.
And Arbok was all-too-happy to deliver.
“Wait… w-wait!” Spice panicked, feeling his legs starting to give. He didn’t have the leverage or strength to keep the jaws held open. Strength alone wasn’t going to save him. “P-please don’t! I don’t want to be eaten! Arbok!” The snake pokémon tongue sprung to life and coiled up around Spice’s muzzle. His eyes bulged in terror as his jaws were slapped shut. “D-don’t eat meee!!!” Spice squealed through clenched teeth, just as the jaws overpowered his protesting paws.
CLACK!
GLURRRK!
“Mmf mmmffff!!!” Spice’s wailing head squelched noisily down the throat for the second time, arbok keeping his eyes on it this time around. He slowly licked his lips as he saw the bulges converge on themselves, noisily GLKing down his body towards his rapidly-distending stomach. Spice was once more doubling up on himself, hearing the slimy SQLSH as his ears pressed against the sphincter of the stomach and was compressed harshly in. SLOSH! Spice’s muzzle came to a stop only after it slipped past his tails, his body on its back, and nestled tightly between his doughy buttcheeks. He was stuck tight with the stomach walls compressing and squishing up against every part of his body, acids already crawling from the soft innards to start coating him. “MMMPHH!!!”
Arbok ran his tail over the sizable bulges and sighed contently. “Urp! Back where you belong… And a much more scrumptious meal then I could’ve hoped for.” Another growl emanated from his stomach, this time followed up by a slow brrrrble and a terrified muffled cry from within. The snake pokémon lazily turned around in the grass to get back to his tree. The noisy stomach churned lightly as the horrified ninetales moaned and suffered. When arbok shifted his heavy coils along the ground, Spice was bent and contorted along with them. The bloated snake had to work to get back to the tree, but it was nothing he was unused to, and his body obeyed, large bulging middle included. Spice felt the stomach fluids building around his back and dripping through his fur, unable to see in the pitch-black organ and hearing every grrrn and grble it had to offer. He tried to struggle in order to make another escape attempt, but the sphincter was sealed tightly. He couldn’t even poke a tail through it, and his body was bent over on itself to the point where the ninetales couldn’t move. Not even when arbok began to coil around the tree, which made Spice dizzy with his head suddenly pointed downward. “Mmf!” he whined, every breath a desperate, short one with the amount of air available to him, snout buried in the crevice of his own rump. Worse still were the acids pooling about below him, Arbok’s body vertical and gravity taking its course.
After 15 minutes of careful coiling and climbing, belly squished harshly against the trunk, Arbok made it back to his favorite branch. He managed to stay along the top until he was far enough along. He wrapped his head and tail about like one would tie a hammock up, then, with a delighted purr, he let his bulging, churning belly slip over the edge. SLORSH! Slop slop… The ninetales-filled stomach slowly swayed to a stop after a while, the arbok looking over his prize and licking his lips again. “Ahh...”
“Hrrmmph! Hllllp!”
“What was that?” Arbok taunted, every word audible to the slowly-digesting Spice. “I’m afraid I can’t hear you! But please, continue. Give your last performance. Better make it count, because after all, you won’t be winning any more beauty contests by the time I’m done with you.” Spice shivered when he felt the tip of a thick tail press down along the protruding bulges. Arbok even managed to give him a patronizing pat on the head, the ninetales whimpering at his sealed fate. “Pokémon don’t venture into the wild to rate the beauty of what we… simpletons, you called us? …leave behind after a large meal.”
That last provocation hit Spice hard. He violently wriggled and jostled his body all he could as horrible thoughts ran through his head. Slimy stomach fluids continued to build all about him without care, the stomach walls contracting hard and expanding only a little, with a loud chrrrrrrgle accompanying every one. The glorps and gurgles bubbling all about him sent Spice into a mad frenzy, the base of his tails writhing about since the tails themselves were pinned good. Another deep chuckle and purr rumbled down from above, Spice shivering as the acids grew higher. Then… “URRRRRRP! Oooh… schlrp… Guess that bit of fur won’t do you any good now.” Spice quivered in terror, trying to struggle more, but he was starting to grow weary. Tightly-compressed stomach walls, not much air, churning acids, all the struggling… He tried to move his head down to at least remove the scarf bound about his neck, the precious fabric now feeling as tight as a snake’s coil in the unyielding belly. But he couldn’t so much as budge it, the ninetales doomed to live out his last fleeting moments with his jaws compressed in between his own cheeks. All of this was all getting to Spice. His protests grew weaker as time wore on, to the point where he couldn’t move at all… Spice was forced to remain curled up on himself in a daze, barely clinging to consciousness, hearing the victorious arbok start to properly digest him.
Arbok was in a daze, too. A food coma. The snake pokémon casually stroked over his churning, gurgling stomach, occasionally mouthing off to one of the more annoying pokémon he’d come across in recent times. He wasn’t even sure if Spice was still alive and listening (he was), but that didn’t stop him from getting back at the delicious nuisance. Hours ticked by, night falling, Arbok eventually falling asleep. His tongue flitted out every now and then, the increasingly loud glrrrks and chrrrrns soothing him into a nice lengthy slumber.
Spice was kept up through the night and well into the morning, all while Arbok gently slept. Only when the ever-rising, churning stomach fluids began to seep over his plump rear did he finally pass out. The ninetales was completely submerged not long after, succumbing completely to the whims of Arbok’s digestive system. A loud BLORP followed by an elongated GLOOORRN rumbled out freely, Arbok yawning in his sleep, but remaining still and peaceful. His loudly-glorping, bulged middle churned and gurgled, swaying gently in the breeze, the wild snake pokémon’s energy completely devoted to digesting the devoured Spice completely.
Two more days passed before Arbok awoke. His eyes slowly peeked open, sunlight flooding his vision. He yawned loudly, jaws stretching and popping, then smacked his lips and peeked down at himself: Where quasi-defined ninetales bulges formerly rested now sat a sagging mass of round softness. A burble arose from his softened middle, but it was otherwise quiet. Arbok chuckled at the memory of the whinging ninetales begging for his life. Struggling to break free. Getting swallowed whole and alive, twice, and becoming the next in what had been a long line of tasty, fulfilling meals for the sated serpent.
Arbok was all set to go back to sleep when he heard some rustling below. He peeked down to see a definitely-not-wild glameow trotting about carefully, with tail flicking in irritation. Arbok rested casually, not too terribly hungry at the moment. But she’ll make a lovely meal if she’s half as irritating as that ninetales was.
“Excuse me?” the glameow spoke, looking up to the awakened arbok. The snake gave a single nod in greeting, tail tip flickering about. “Sorry to disturb you. My name’s Wynne and I’m looking for a client of mine. Have you seen a ninetales come through here? I had gotten him slated to appear in a contest a few days back and I went ahead to do preparations, but he never showed.”
Of course, that whiny pokémon had someone working for him literally named ‘Win.’ Arbok slowly smiled, fangs bared, at the glameow’s question. “Mmm… Can’t say that I have.” Arbok deliberately, casually, gave his soft round middle some gentle pets with his tail. “I think I would’ve noticed such a… famous ninetales had he made his way here.”
Wynne’s long, cotton-tipped tail wavered about behind her. Her ears flicked as she stared up at the snake pokémon, hints of suspicion in her features. “Are you sure? Spice isn’t exactly a subtle ninetales. He always wears a long red scarf and tends to prattle on about himself. Sure you haven’t seen him about?”
Arbok cheekily shook his head again, smile never leaving his face. “Can’t say that I have. I’m asleep a lot, and anyone who has the vaguest clue in their brains couldn’t possibly get lost enough to wander all the way out here.” The grinning arbok flitted his tongue, just as his stomach let out a burbling GLUP! Wynne gave Arbok a look, before her eyes widened as the snake pokémon’s cheeks bulged out suddenly.
URRRRRP! A slimy, half-digested scarf, frayed at every possible end and riddled with holes, splatted to the ground a foot in front of the glameow. Wynne took a disgusted step back and peered back up at the arbok shakily. “I’m sure Spice will turn up… eventually...” Arbok whole muzzle was lined with sharp fangs, his grin stretched to the limit.
Wynne took the hint. “W-well… I’m a busy glameow so I won’t take any more of your time Mr. Arbok. I’ll keep looking!” Arbok chuckled as the glameow turned to leave. The glameow left the area, muttering under her breath. “Stupid Spice had to go and get himself eaten. That haughty idiot was an uptight priss but at least we were making bank on these contests. Now I have to find someone else.” She sighed. “Why does this keep happening with my clients? I swear the next one I’ll strap to my back and carry them to every town myself...”
Arbok watched Wynne go. He had no interest in pursuing her. He was stuffed, and she was actually polite. He looked down at his occasionally-gurgling stomach swaying over the edge, and rubbed his tail over it, tongue flicking over his lips. With nothing else to do, Arbok went back to sleep, letting his sagging mass of a belly finish what it started.
Over the coming weeks, Spice’s soft remains shrunk. Arbok’s body padded out with the dense amount of nutrients and fat that the ninetales graciously donated, it all dividing up evenly among the pokémon. Arbok had even grown an inch or two in the process, Spice had been so filling. When all was said and done, Arbok was left with a small soft paunch in the middle of his belly, though a sizable bulge of what was not usable was massed near his tail. The pokémon felt a familiar pressure building, and he arose with another big, jaw-popping yawn. “Well,” he mused, shifting his coils about to begin slithering down the tree. “Seems like the contest champion is ready for his grand finale.”
Arbok thudded to the ground and slithered along the grass. He paused by the scarf, stiff from being dried out in the sun over the previous days. He grinned and snagged it with his tail, dragging it along as he moved swiftly. Arbok was full of energy with all his rest and being well-fed on a plump-rumped ninetales, plus wasn’t weighed down by a massive belly bulge any more. He maneuvered along until he reached a place far from where he dwelled, and coiled around a large tree with his body on one side, tail on the other. Dangling Spice’s tattered scarf a couple inches off the ground, he arched his tail up and pushed. “And now, for his final appearance ever… Spice.” From the snake pokémon’s tailhole emerged a smelly pile of dung, spattered with tan fur and the occasional bone. The bulge in his tail receded, Arbok sighing satisfyingly as he relieved himself of the remains of his scrumptious meal. The shit and fur and broken bone fragments piled high over the hoisted scarf, Arbok’s tailhole stretching out and around the squeeze out the last large glob. Embedded in the largest excretion was a cracked ninetales skull, which topped off the stinking pile with a spltch.
Arbok flicked his tail, draping what little of the scarf protruding out of the pile over top that skull, and slithered away. “And the winner of the ugliest, smelliest pokémon in the forest goes to: Spice Blasé!” Arbok laughed as he slithered off, free to enjoy what the eaten ninetales had to offer for him (mostly fat, to survive the coming cold weather), and leaving Spice’s remains to become one with the forest over the course of the coming months. It was his last contest, and he won it all, passing with flying colors.
\n\t\t\t\t\ttastytales!