Its fleshy, leathery, pink grasp is tight. Too tight. I guess it’s my time to go, but I’ve heard it is quick and easy. A little messy… yes. But, that’s not my problem.
One crack. That’s all it takes, but I’m still captive. Held in the air, staring down at the terrible scene. The white bowl is already holding ounces of the yellow and white brains of my fellow comrades.
With the help of a sharp tool, a metal rod is slowly jammed into my round bottom. I can feel the puncture penetrate all the way through my core. After its job is complete, the rod is then pushed into my head and slid gently out. The holes stand vertical of one another, exposing my delicate insides to the chilly air.
Why is this my terrible fate?? A pink hole consumes my top and pressure enters my body like a gust of wind, and I am slowly drained alive.