The Bisharp had time to work down the conniving rule-breakers considering the start of the match had hardly gone by when the Grovyle decided to take the match's fairness into his own hands. That's why it was so nice to be an officiator for the GRIT. Even if there was no real glory in it, you got to participate in the greatest sport known to all of Pokemon-kind. Not only that, but it made a fair bit of coin as well, and officiators had to be strong themselves in order to keep fighters in line. The steel-type was no stranger to combat, and getting the off-chance to devour unruly fighters was more than a reward in its own part.
He circles his palms over the gut and muses at his food, "While you did have a chance at stardom my dear, this rogueish rat tempted you into your own downfall. You two deserve one another, I think~"
The Grovyle and Flareon tussle inside, still mewling and growling in distress, but it would not last. Their strength was leaving them the more they fought, and the acids of a steel-type were particularly strong considering the stomach's environment.
"U-Ugh...ghk..." The lizard from inside the space tries to palm around in the dark, smooth walls of his prison, blinding looking for a stomach valve or some miraculous aid. But nothing came about it.
Cat meanwhile shoves at the top of the stomach, whining out, "I can't...lose cause of this...fucker...I was so close to getting my...name out there, nngh..." Her ass was currently mashing hard against Kale's face as he's dunked completely under the acids at this point. The warm furry rump smothers his mouth and nose as he feels his mostly upside-down body sagging hard under all the fluid digesting his body softer. His leaves had already wilted so far and fizzled into the mixture, leaving the muscle and hide of his body to go next.
"M---Mmph...nnphk............." His eyes roll up and his spasms for air lessen. Lightness was exuding within his mind now as the heat and pressure of the stomach were leaving him. Becoming numb, the Grovyle eventually passes out, with the Flareon feeling the slow encroach of their fate as prey nearing.
The Bisharp muses and simply eases himself to sit down, using one hand to support his back while the other occasionally gives his iron gut a good pat. With that, Kale and Cat share a prison of pure, permanent punishment...
"Reporting in for fighter #0497. He was scheduled to duel fighter #2049 in Room A3 for the Rust Exhibition, but seemed to think he could use the referee against his foe. Unwise, especially for a first unranked match. Referee A3 did not take kindly to the gesture and justifiably ate both competitors. I am not one to argue against the rulings of the match officiators, but I would like to make note of perhaps listing referee protections within the rule guide. Unless...it's intentionally left out so referees get a chance to eat some of the livestock fighters. Then ignore said notion. Still, what a waste of a cute man. I think I'll have to write something as equally derogatory for his fellow Flareon, won't I~?"
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