(Contains scat, urine, and full tour vore)
Fred the mouse was really hungry. He spotted a house. It would have to do. He needed food really soon. He snuck in through an open window.
He found a pantry. He would have to climb high up. He climed up to the top. He opened the door and got in. He grabbed a ton of food and ate it.
When he tried to climb down, however, he accidentally knocked over a jar, which fell the floor and shattered. He heard footsteps. Before he could get down, the door to the pantry opened and the light came on.
A male mongoose, wearing a white nightshirt and fruit of the loom underwear came in. He looked at the jar and at Fred. The mongoose was not amused.
The mongoose grabbed Fred. "I don't like intruders." said the mongoose. He got out some bread, some soda, peanut butter, jelly, and cheezeballs. He put peanut butter and jelly on two bread slices. He then stuck Fred in between and closed the halves.
Fred was worried now. His clothes were all covered in peanut butter and jelly. However, he was more worried about being eaten.
The mongoose brought the sandwich to his mouth and started chewing. Fortunately, he bit next to Fred, instead of into him. Fred had a bit more room to move and moved more out of the bread.
The mongoose put more of the sandwich in his mouth. Fred broke free and rolled out of the bread. He was in the mouth now. He moved away from the chewing teeth.
Then, to Fred's horror, the mongoose gulped down his mouthful, taking Fred with it.
Fred slipped down the throat, a loud gulping sound was all around him. He was coated in saliva, peanut butter, and jelly.
The pink muscles moved him downward. He was too frightened even to yell. He saw an opening up ahead. He was pitched into it. He fell through the opening.
He fell downward, the top of the stomach opened above him. He landed with a splash in some hot liquid.
Above him, more bits of the sandwich came down into the stomach after him. The walls of the stomach were dark pink and dripped slime. The stomach was rumbling a lot. The air in here stank and was hardly breathable.
However, his worst fear was digestion. If he didn't quick, he'd be broken down by the mongoose's stomach acids. He wanted to cry now. It was over, he thought. He was going to die in the mongoose's belly.
He would be digested alive and then his remains would be excreted later. However, he saw the bread and he got an idea. It was his only hope. He grabbed the chunks of bread and pulled them together. He made a raft. If the bread got digested first, he might get burned when it broke down but he might actually be able to live.
More and more bread came in. Bubbles started forming around Fred. Gas rose upward. BURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRP! The mongoose belched.
Outside, the mongoose wiped his mouth with a napkin. That peanut butter, mouse, and jelly sandwich was delicious. Now he'd have some cheeseballs.
Fred was floating around on the raft of chewed up bread, trying not to be thrown off by the waves of the juices in the belly. The top of the stomach opened again. Yellow cheeseball chunks came. They nearly knocked him off. He paddled toward them, using a tiny bit of bread as an oar. He made his raft bigger. More cheeseballs came in.
The mongoose cleaned off his plate in the sink. He felt his belly rumble. His stomach was now starting to digest the mouse and other food he'd eaten, he thought.
Acid had come in. It poured in and pushed Fred's raft around. The raft was, thankfully slowly, being eaten away at. He was safe for now.
The mongoose pulled off the top of his root beer bottle with his teeth. He began to drink.
Fred saw the top of the stomach open once more The rootbeer came in and splashed around. It nearly knocked Fred off of his raft, but he'd held on with his legs, making him only hang upside, facing the churning acid below him.
He was now soaked, but was still alive. The rootbeer kept coming in, but he managed to stay on the raft. At last, the top of the stomach closed. The root beer had made the stomach all bubbly. ERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRP! The soda had made the mongoose belch again.
Outside, the mongoose patted his churning belly. That had been a delicious late night snack. Now to go back to bed. He climbed into his bed, pulled back on his blankets, and went to sleep.
Unfortunately for Fred, the mongoose snored. The snoring shook him, but he stayed on the raft. The raft being pushed back and forth by the waves of stomach acid.
The hours went by. Fred didn't dare go to sleep, for fear of falling off the raft. It was stifling hot in the mongoose's stomach. Fred was thirsty. As he had no water, he licked his clothes, sucking up the rootbeer.
He looked down, and, to his horror, saw that half of his raft was gone, digested by the churning belly. By morning, it was almost gone. But he couldn't despair yet. Not until he was near his death would he start to cry.
Outside, the mongoose's alarm clock went off. He stretched and yawned. He turned off the alarm. He pulled on a silver shirt and a long pair of pants.
He went to his fridge and heated up the leftovers of a big dead cobra. His friends had brought it over when they had watched the Super Bowl.
He munched on the snake. It tasted great. He looked at his watch. He needed to be to work in an hour. He was responsible for chasing off pests. Mostly mice, but he'd dealt with snakes on several occassions. He worked out a lot, for being fat simply wouldn't do when fighting poisionous snakes that wanted to do you in. He drank coffee with his breakfast.
Inside his stomach, Fred was really close to landing in the acid. He was near panic now. However, he saw the top of the stomach open. The snake meat came in. He quickly paddled to it, using his paw for his oar had been digested, and started to remake a raft. His paw felt sore.
The coffee then poured in. It hit Fred, making him wince, for it was still quite hot. He was relieved when the coffee stopped pouring in.
The mongoose drove off in his orange car. It was quite a nice model. His job paid well. He got to work a few minutes early. He talked to his friends beside the water cooler. He was to head to a house nearby and deal with a pesky mouse infestation as soon as his shift started.
Sometimes, after he'd killed the mice, they let him take them home to eat. But, usually, they paid in cash instead.
After slaying some mice, and watching the others flee and run far from the house, he was paid in cash. Job well done. He almost always got the job done right.
Fred, meanwhile, wasn't so pleased. By noon, his raft collapsed under him, for it had been mostly digested. The stomach acids started to push against him as he fell into them.
They felt hot and his fur was scalded. Now it looked bad. He could probably survive up to three hours. Any longer, and he'd have limbs digested off. About an hour after that, and he'd be ripped open by the acid.
GURGLE! The acid stung his legs. The fur was being slowly sizzled off. He was thrown against the stomach wall. The walls were hard and he was winded. The mucus on the walls landed on him.
After an hour, his shirt and pants were now rags. His balls felt hot, and he wanted to get out. He figured his lower half would be the first to go. It would be a painful end for him, first losing his legs and his male parts before his upper half got it. He decided that when he was beyond hope, and his legs, penis, or balls were in danger of being digested off, he'd try and flip over in the acid. His head would go and it would be a less drawn out end for him.
He felt foolish for trying to avoid the teeth. To be chewed up by teeth would have hurt quite a bit at first but he'd have been dead fairly quickly. To die this way was going to be far far worse.
He was on the verge of tears. He thought of his childhood. How he'd graduated from college near the top of his class. The girl he'd hoped to marry. How he'd been doing well at his job working at the cheese factory. How he'd been laid off, and, having little money, had been getting hungry, prompting him to go into the mongoose's house. Nobody would find him now or know what happened to him. All that would be left to find anyway would be some bones and some logs of mongoose poop.
However, before he started to cry and resign himself to death, the top of the stomach opened. Bird meat came in. Fred climbed up it as much as he could. He started to form a raft. Maybe he'd live yet to tell about his misadventure.
The mongoose was on lunch break. He'd killed a few pesky birds, and they'd given him them. This one was a nice parrot. The mongoose didn't really care to eat feathers, for they didn't digest well and tickled him when he had a bowel movement, not to mention that they didn't taste that good going down the throat.
He had therefore plucked this parrot. He cut it up. The sight of the guts didn't phase him. He was a predator after all. He was used to blood. He ate some of the bird, putting barbecue sauce on it.
Fred's clothes had been singed off. He really had to pee, not just because he'd not gone since an hour before he'd gone into the house, but because his grey penis had been grilled by the churning acid. It now was flaky and he'd involuntarily ejaculated a few times from the burns.
Fred bent over the side of the raft and peed. At least he could end some of his pain by emptying out. He felt a bit of pain as the urine trickled from his penis. He felt raw all over, and he knew that if he fell into the acid again, he'd have about an hour to live, if that.
Near evening, as the mongoose drove back home from work, the bird meet had broken down. Fred had close to the acid. He wondered what would happen to him once the acid got to him. Would he be allowed into mouse heaven or would St. Peter mouse throw him out due to the few secret affairs he'd had while in college?
He was burned once more. "I'm gone to die. It's over." Fred said to himself. This time, he did cry.
However, he was in luck. As he felt his legs be cut open a bit by the acid, and blood pour from them, the top of the stomach opened again.
The mongoose had eaten a chicken sandwich. He'd gotten it at Burger King. He loved chicken.
The food hit Fred. Fred, now fairly burnt, his fur all singed off and his legs bleeding, built a raft. He used the rest of his energy to stay on the raft as the mongoose ate fries and then drank his Sprite.
This meal was also broken down over time. The mongoose went to bed. Fred noticed his raft about to go. He would die within 20 minutes if he went into the acid now. His legs had stopped bleeding. He was naked and burnt.
He fell into the acid. He had heard the mongoose snoring and knew that this time, he'd die. The mongoose wouldn't eat again till morning. By then, Fred would be digested piles of meat and bones.
However, after getting his legs cut open again, Fred saw something happen. The acid level was moving downward. The stomach had started to pump its contents into the small intestine.
"I'm going to live! Woo hoo! I'm going to live!" said Fred. He reached the bottom and was pushed into the duedonum. It was a tight squeeze but he got in.
Fred looked around. In here, there were tons of yellow villi around. The air smelled worse, but he no longer had to worry about acid. He was not going to die in the belly after all.
However, Fred thought, it wasn't all roses now. Indeed, it was going to get quite stinky before it got better.
The mouse knew, from his anatomy class in college, that a digestive tract first had the esophagus. He'd gone down that when the mongoose gulped him down.
Then there was the stomach. He'd spent a full day in there. It had nearly been his end.
Now, if he was correct, came the small intestine. Villi would absorb the food in here. He knew he'd be too big to be absorbed.
The small intestine would curve on and on and he'd spend many more hours in here.
After the small intestine came the large intestine. Any food left over and not absorbed, which, he recalled grimly, would include HIM, would go into here. The food here would be waste. It would be bothered by bacteria and turned into brown stinky feces.
The logs of poop would then be moved through the colon. Then, at the end of the colon, came the rectum. Here, all the poop would sit for hours.
When the mongoose finally felt pressure in his rectum, he'd go to the bathroom.
He'd hunch over and grunt. The waste would be forced out his anus, where solid waste was expelled from the body. He'd go into the toliet, and more poop would come out the mongoose's butt after him.
Fred sighed. It wasn't going to be fun, but at least, hopefully, he'd live to tell about it.
The villi yanked at Fred. A gooey red substance tried to break him down. It coated his fur, but did not such thing, for he was alive and whole. His body ached from the acid burns. He emptied out his rectum here, for he had to poop. The waste almost hit him. He had little room to move. He could only wait until the mongoose's small intestine was done with him. He went to sleep, for he was tired and had been unable to sleep in the stomach.
He awoke late in the night. He found that he was still in the small intestine. It must have curved a lot in his sleep, for he had dreamed that he was driving a race car on a track.
He saw an opening up ahead. The end of the small intestine loomed. He knew what would come next, and held his nose as he was pushed through the tube.
There was a bit more room to move in here. There wasn't villi. The gas smelled worse too. Also, the waste was coating him. The bacteria turned it brown. It really stank. Worse, it was hardening around him.
He felt the sticky mess around him. It was quite annoying. "Great, I get to be mongoose shit!" said Fred in annoyance.
He was moved through the rest of the colon. He saw a dip in the tunnel up ahead. He braced himself as he fell into it.
If he'd thought the colon was bad, it was nothing compared to in here, the rectum. There was round logs of feces everywhere. He surfaced, gasping, his face and fur all covered in mongoose feces. He wanted to cry again.
He waited in here for hours, more logs piling on top of him. He had only now to wait a bit longer. The mongoose would soon feel the call of nature and he'd be out at last.
The mongoose felt a pressure in his rectum around evening. It was time to empty out the bones of the mouse and his other meals. He went into the bathroom. He pulled down his pants and said on the toliet. He grabbed a magazine that lay nearby. He grunted and pushed.
Fred saw light come in. There was a loud PHHHHH as the mongoose farted. The waste was moved downward. It squelched against him. He was pressed against the anus. Slowly he was squeezed through it.
The mongoose grunted hard. There was a big log of poop that was having trouble coming out his butt, he thought. He at last got it past his anus.
Fred saw the mongoose's anus opened above him. He fell down and landed in the toilet with a splash. PLOP! Another log fell out the butt above him and landed in the toilet with a SPLASH!. PLOP! SPLASH! Another log came out. The mongoose emptied the rest of his rectum. He then wiped his ass with toliet paper, throwing it too into the toilet.
Fred looked up, floating in a log of shit, still encased in it. The mongoose was now standing up, his pants back on. However, he also saw the white penis of the mongoose sticking out of the zipper hole. The mongoose pushed. The tip of the penis opened, and yellow urine splashed Fred.
After he saw the penis close and the urine stop flowing, Fred called out to the mongoose. The mongoose finally spotted him. "Still alive?" said the mongoose, putting his penis back into his pants.
"Yes." said Fred. "Get me out." "Sorry, you're a waste product and you go with them." said the mongoose. The mongoose flushed the toilet. Fred spun around and around, getting hit with poop and urine. He went down the pipes.
He thought he might yet die. Had he survived the mongoose's digestive tract only to die in the toilet? However, right before he lost consciousness from lack of air, he shot out of the pipe. He was in the sewer.
He eventually broke free of the feces. He climbed out of the water and went onto a small path. He wiped off the feces onto some leaves. Then, he made a suit out of some more leaves.
He might not have a proper suit or a job at the moment, but he had survived being digested, had become mongoose poop, had been crapped out, had been peed on by the mongoose, and had survived being flushed down the toilet. He would yet live to perhaps see his life get better.