He's scowl deepens the more you beg but you can't help it he can kill you on a million different ways and all in a matter of seconds. " shut the f**k up, God you whine about everything, just like that b*tch" he yells at you as giant meaty paw grabs you up. At this size you're completely surrounded in his flesh, each crease in his skin like a ledge. You know he's going to kill you so you don't bother to fight, you just hope it's quick. He opens his fist and stares at you for a minute determining your worth and wether or not to kill you even though you already know the answer. Rather abruptly he moves his hand and drops you to the table face first. Surprisingly it didn't hurt as much as you think it should have. You turn around in time to see his clenched fist about to be slammed down onto you. What the hell did you do to deserve this. BANG. The fist has crushed you, you're in a immense amount of pain, but why do you feel pain you're dead you can feel yourself flat against the table Cory' s hand pressing down on you. You feel smushed, that's the only word for it.
"Wow, cool, this is gonna be better than I thought. You're my own personal stress toy" he exclaims when beliefs his hand off you. Crap that means your not dead, you can't decide if this is a good thing or not, on the one hand hey your not dead just the way you like it but on the other you're now going to be subjected to who knows what at the hands of your anger issued former friend, you'll probably become his very own punching bag.
"I wonder what else you can do" he says as he starts to ...
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