You decide to show no mercy. You and the muscled hyena are both shoveling hapless creatures into your faces for the sole purpose of bragging rights. Someone is keeping score; they shout out the number you've devoured in case you haven't been counting. You haven't. How could you have felt sorry for that guy? You don't even feel sorry for the several lives you've ended in the last two minutes. Your next victim goes down easy -- a thoroughly drunk pig anthro who has passed out. He will make an interesting contribution to your figure. You decide to digest him quickly. The alcohol in the pig's system takes effect immediately in you, your metabolism's so fast. You start to feel giddy and things slow down. Little do you know, you're eating faster now to make it feel like you're going at the same speed as your were when you were sober. You don't even realize it when the hyena stops eating and lets out a huge burp. The contest is over and you've won -- and you need a reminder to stop eating. That alcohol really messed with your brain. You shake yourself out of your mental fog amid cheers. The hyena sits panting on the floor, his stomach bulging. He looks like he's about to throw up, but you feel fine. A little full, perhaps, but otherwise you're okay. And you just beat him. You're going to be the life of the party. Or maybe, since you didn't get to enjoy that first bit of food, you'll be the death of it.
That was fun; what next?
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