https://archive.palanq.win/bant/thread/20047349/#q20158905>[In a desperate lunge, the thing they call Cactus grabs at the larger woman's mouth. Two fingers slide inside, past the teeth and under the tongue. Squishy. Warm. Cactus squeezes and pulls, until the Samoan goes momentarily limp; it only takes three seconds.]As the bell rings, Cactus doubles over. It's not clear if it's wheezing laughter or a struggle to breathe, but doubled over she is and it is only the referee's prodding that she has retained her title that snaps her back to it. Many in the crowd avert their gaze as she climbs the turnbuckle, and viscous liquids drip form open wounds across her body.
Cactus stumbles down and goes to Tala.
fu fnu nfufnufnun
thaknyoa orf big gfithht
amske me ahurt os good
>[Cactus stares at Tala, nodding slowly, as if to a beating drum only she can hear.] 