>>16374887Another wave of eggs commences following Hexcalibur's rescue, the centipede fuck line unleash another slosh batch of Farfetch'd eggs straight from their gullet, all the way up their mouth and out the bill.
They regurgitate the eggs with pride, despite the fuck that most of the eggs crack upon impact with the ground and the ones that DO survive collision end up getting coated in thick layers of duck stomach acids and blankets of digested food.
"This is quite possibly the weirdest breeding circle I've ever seen..."
Hexcalibur re-sheathes himself to reveal his little three-eyed chink face, "FOOL. This doesn't even rank in the top seventy. If you want to see something disgusting, I suggest we go to Route 14 and observe the beauty of childbirth as experienced by thunder-thigh Goodras with child-birthing hips FORGED for the purpose of pro-creation!"
"...Let's not."
You decide to let the in-breeding resume as scheduled because as disgusting and off-turning as it is, there has to be some rationale as to why it's happening. Perhaps as part of some ritual or some holiday or maybe it's just something they do every week as a little gag of some sort.
A little disgusting, greasy gag.
There are still some ties in the befuddling rope that are left in knots, and your escapade shall not end until those knots are...unknotted. Or something like that.
