Stuart's Falcon Tour

(Full tour Stuart Little vore)

Chapter 1: Food for a Falcon

Chapter 1 Food for a Falcon

"Ok Falcon, you've done enough. Let her leave now and I won't call the cops on you." Stuart declared.
"Call the cops on me? What are they going to do, lock me in a birdcage?"
"If need be."
"You're not calling the cops and she's not going anywhere!"
"You leave her alone!" Stuart shouted, shooting an arrow at Falcon. He was aiming for the eyes, but missed and instead it bounced off the beak.
"Was that your best shot? Let me show you mine!" Falcon seized Stuart.
"Falcon, let him go!" Margalo shouted.
"I will, just give me a sec." Falcon said. He flew out of the tower, carrying Stuart.
"Don't kill him!"
"I won't. The sidewalk will." Falcon was about to drop him.
"Don't drop him Falcon. You don't want to do this!" Margalo cried.
Falcon quickly thought on the matter. Margalo was right. Turning Stuart into a pancake would be pointless. What could he gain out of that? He had a better idea. "You're right, it was a foolish idea. I won't drop him."
"Thank you Falcon. Now let him---"
"I'll swallow him whole and slowly digest him alive. Seems more my style. And, even better, I get a meal out of it."
"No, no, no, I'd rather be dropped!" Stuart cried.
"Falcon, I won't let you!" Margalo cried. She flew at Falcon. This was what he had been hoping for. He seized her with a talon, before flying back into the tower carrying a struggling Stuart and Margalo.
"For your daring to question me, I think it only appropriate that you watch me gulp down your friend. Then you can listen to him digest and then, when I'm done with him, you can go look at what's left of him. I'll keep you in that can in the meantime."
Margalo hated the can. Falcon locked her in there he felt that she needed an "attitude adjustment." It was dark and lonely in there, plus, it stank of her own wastes, as sometimes she was locked in there for more than a day and couldn't hold her cloaca anymore. "Please Falcon, don't do this?" she begged.
"'Please Falcon, don't do this!' he cried mockingly. "Looks like I'm going to get the ring and have the mouse for lunch after all. Lucky me!" As he held Margalo down, he raised the mouse toward his open beak.
"Falcon, there are loads of better ways you could kill me." Stuart said.
"Not really. I can't think of a more torturous way to go." He dangled Stuart over his beak, his tongue beginning to lap at the feet.
"Falcon, stop!" THEWP! THEWP! THEWP! THEWP! Falcon licked his legs, soon moving to other parts of him. After he was done licking, he dropped the mouse in and began to suck on him. SCHLUCK! SHLUCK! SCHLUCL! SHLCK! "Falcon, this is so gross!"
"Little mousey is going to be bird food!" the falcon cackled as he continued to suck. Once he was done, he said "Time to swallow."
"No, no, no!" Stuart cried.
"Falcon, don't swallow!" Margalo yelled.
"Say bye bye to your boyfriend." Falcon laughed, as he moved Stuart toward the back of his throat with his tongue. Stuart was knocked into the throat, legs first, more and more of his body making a bulge. He struggled against the push of the tongue.

Falcon tilted his head back, moving saliva toward Stuart. "No, please, don't swallow. We can work things out." the mouse pleaded.
"No, we can work things down, as in down the throat, which is where you're going. You'll get worked out later, when I have a bowel movement."
"No, please!"
"Bye bye mouse. Next time I see you, you'll be falcon poop." he laughed as he swallowed with a powerful GULLLLLLLLLLLLLP. Stuart slowly was squeezed down his throat, fighting against the swallow. But it was of no use. Peristalsis pulled him along until he was deposited inside the bird's crop.

Chapter 2: The Crop

Stuart couldn't believe he was inside a predator. He knew that it was risky coming here, but he had planned to avoid being eaten. "Lemme out!" Stuart cried, pounding on the muscular and wet crop walls.
"Sorry, I can't do that. Digestion is a bit slow. It takes days before I need to have a bowel movement." Falcon replied casually, rubbing the bulge on his crop.
"Let Stuart go, Falcon!" Margalo cried.
"I'll let him go, when I go-----to the toilet." Falcon laughed.
Stuart hoped that he'd find a way out of here before he was digested. How, he didn't know, but he wasn't just going to let Falcon digest him without a fight. He kicked and punched at the crop wall.
"Fight all you want. But my crop will hold you."
"What's a crop?"
"A crop holds food until it's ready to go into the first stomach, the proventriculus, to start being digested."
"First stomach?!"
"That's right, fur face. I have two stomachs, a proventriculus and a gizzard. You'll likely live through the proventriculus, but the gizzard will get you. So it'll be a long and painful end for you. But you needn't worry about the digestion. I'm not in too big a hurry to digest you, for I've eaten two squirrels and a sparrow earlier today, so my stomachs are a bit busy right now and don't need to digest you at the moment. So you can hang around in my crop for a while."
Falcon may have intended this to torture Stuart even more. And it would be torture, if he didn't find a way to survive. From what Falcon had said, assuming that he could trust him, the proventriculus would hurt but not kill. It was the gizzard that was certain to kill him, unless he escaped. So now, he knew, his best hope was to not struggle or fight, until he reached the gizzard, where he'd exhaust all efforts to get out alive, before it could digest him.
"You're so cruel Falcon, making me wait instead of just getting it over with." Stuart said, hoping that he was convincing the bird that he was truly terrified of the whole thing (which was still true) and that he didn't have a plan.
"You're an insolent little mouse, and so you'll die like a mouse, screaming as the gizzard crushes you and grinds you into bits."
"Sounds painful."
"It is, I think. I wouldn't know as I haven't been there. But the prey I've sent there haven't ever made it out alive."
"You mean---you've swallowed prey alive before?"
"Yes. You weren't the first to get uppity and get the digested treatment."
Stuart knew that, if nobody else had survived before, his chances of survival were about zero. Still, he couldn't despair just yet. Maybe, just maybe, the others had wasted all their efforts on the crop and proventriculus and were too worn out to escape the gizzard. He, on the other hand, knew enough to conserve his energy. Still, he'd have to exert some of it, just a bit of it, lest Falcon get too wise. If the bird knew he might have a plan to escape into the intestines, a route that he didn't want to think about as he knew its end was the place where poop went before it was pooped out, then he might burp really hard, and Stuart still needed air inside Falcon to breath. And he knew Falcon would sooner kill him than risk him getting away alive.

"I think I'll have fries with this mouse." Falcon said. He flew down to a food cart and stole fries from it.
"Hey, come back you stupid bird!" the cart operator shouted. Falcon pooped on his head. "Yuck! Bird shit!"
Falcon flew back up to the top of the tower and began to eat the fries. They landed in the crop, mostly intact, due to Falcon lacking teeth, pelting Stuart. "I hope those aren't McDonalds fries. That stuff is poison!" Stuart said.
"Naw, I mainly like organic, though I can have some GMO stuff from time to time. Though I don't eat McDonalds. That's not real food or real meat. Might be falcon meat for all I know." Falcon replied, continued to eat more fries.
"Hope you don't get too fat."
"Obviously I don't. I work off my meals. Gotta be fit to intimidate everyone. Nobody is going to be scared by a fat bird."
"Maybe you could vomit me up. That way, you won't get too fat from too many calories."
"Nice try there. But I can handle this load."
"You're going to get diabetes some day."
"And you're going to be digested a lot quicker!"
Stuart kicked, wiggled, and whined, wanting Falcon to think that he didn't have a real plan to escape the digestive tract alive and was wasting all of his energy now to try and get out. "Keep struggling. It makes my crop tingle with joy." Falcon laughed, rubbing the bulge in his neck. True to his cruel words, he kept Stuart there for hours, occasionally snacking, pelting the mouse with food. Stuart didn't like this, nor did he like when Falcon rubbed the bulge in his neck, which was too much for his comfort, but he kept his mind off the discomfort by keeping his mind on the fact that he was going to outwit this nasty bird and get out of here, alive. Maybe bird poop covered, but still alive. After his crop was so full of snacks, with his stomachs below now having passed their contents on, Falcon decided that he'd spent enough time playing with his food. "Ok, mouse boy, enough time taking up space in my crop. I'm afraid you didn't pay the rent and will have to be evicted. To my proventriculus you go. Have fun being digested." he cackled. Stuart could do nothing as the muscles in the crop suddenly squeezed around him, pushing him forward and into a fleshy tube that took him, none too gently, to the falcon's first stomach, the proventriculus.

Chapter 3: The Proventriculus

The air in the proventriculus was even fouler than it had been in the crop. The crop was the bird's elongated glandular stomach. It was long but not very wide. Thus, he was rather cramped. "Welcome to your new home, for a while. The digestion should begin with 10-20 minutes, I expect. I'd start making your will, if I were you. Too bad you didn't bring any pen or paper with you." Falcon cackled, giving his belly a rub with his wings.
"I'm sorry too. I was going to leave all my stuff to George and Margalo." Stuart said.
"How very touching!" Falcon sneered.
"You let him go!' Margalo yelled from inside the can.
"I'm afraid I can't. He's a bit too far down. Guess you'll have to wait till he comes out the other end. Then you can go talk to what's left of him."
Fifteen minutes later, the stomach acids began to enter the proventriculus. Her heard a gurgle, followed by a trickling sound, before feeling something hot burn his skin. It, for a while, felt as nothing more than an annoying it, albeit one that scratching gave no relief to. "Don't worry, it starts nice and slow, and gradually increases in pain. They often struggle more after that, and use up all of their energy, soon begging for it to end. But I don't let it end, but eventually send them to my gizzard where they are ground to bits. Had a poor squirrel once scream how his nuts were first burned off by the proventriculus and later ground off by the gizzard. And by nuts, I don't mean his acorns." Falcon cackled, rubbing his slightly distended belly with a wing. "I hope you don't mind, but when I have a big live meal, I tend to snack a lot. And the snacks have the effect of sending in more acid. I'll drink a little water every now and then to keep it from killing you too quickly, but if there's one thing I'm good at, it's torturing critters in my stomachs. You're the fifteenth creature who's had the great privilege of getting an inside tour of my stomachs. And I don't even charge an entry fee, though, of course, the exit fee is a good digested meal."
Stuart felt his heart race. Hearing that Falcon had eaten 14 animals before him and that all had died slow and painful deaths did not leave his hopes as high as they'd been about surviving it all. If he was going to make it, he needed to expend as little energy in here as possible, despite the pain, yet also convince Falcon that he was in pain, so that the bird didn't catch on to him.

"Ouch it burns! Make it stop! Make it stop!" the mouse cried.
"And spoil the fun? No way!"
"It's starting to get cramped in here." The stomach was beginning to contract around the mouse.
"That would be peristalsis. That's my stomach trying to process you. It's an extra fun feature for digestion and also pain-causing."
Stuart was more worried now. He'd thought his only danger was the acid. But now there was a danger of having his bones broken as well. Still, there was a way to avoid that. It would be uncomfortable, but it would, hopefully, keep him alive. He curled up into a ball. This made him less vulnerable to the contractions, though he knew that it would lead to very sore muscles later. Still, this didn't do much to protect him from the acid. It slowly began to singe off his fur. "It burns!" he moaned.
"Think of it as a glorified sunburn." Falcon said, rubbing his stomach with his wings. "The acid in my stomachs will burn and burn until it melts you like a popsicle."
Stuart hoped that he could escape into the intestines before that happened. By evening, his fur had been burned off and acid was beginning to burn into his bare skin. His clothing had, mostly, escaped digestion, but it didn't keep out the acid from his body. Blisters were forming all over him. "I'm still alive, Falcon!" he said.
"Congratulations, you're one of several that has made it this far. Still, I have something that can help speed up your digestion. Time for some pizza."
Falcon ate several slices of pizza, filling up his crop. He then emptied these into his proventriculus. He repeated the process two more times, until the proventriculus had had two more loads dumped into it, filling it up. Stuart liked pizza, but he didn't like it all around him inside the stomach of a bird. As Falcon had predicted, acid soon entered, beginning to digest the pizza, as well as him. Around 8 PM, his blisters were oozing and his skin was really burned. He wondered if he was going to die in here. After the acid got through the skin, it would go to the muscles and bones next, damaging him too severely to allow him to escape the gizzard alive. Thankfully, luck was on his side. The proventriculus started to drain, sending Stuart down through a tube and into the gizzard.

Chapter 4 The Gizzard

"Welcome to my gizzard."
"It doesn't seem very welcoming."
"It's not. You know what a gizzard does?"
"Digest food."
"No ####ing duh! But it does more than that. I don't have teeth. So my body needs some way of grinding up the food I eat. That's what the gizzard is for."
"Grinding up?"
"That's right. And guess what the food is."
"Me!"
"Very good, fur face. Very painful way to die, as my previous prey all found out. And that's why this part is going to be the most fun, for me anyway, part of digesting you. The only other part that will please me as much will be shitting what's left of you out my cloaca at the end."
Stuart was now in a great panic. If he tried to escape, even if he could, Falcon would be awake and would notice him and be waiting to get him at the other end. So he needed to find some way to survive until Falcon was asleep. "Well, it looks like you've got me and I'll never see the light of day again." he sighed. He hoped that Falcon would believe that he'd given up and go to bed soon. He knew that Falcon would stay awake as long as he could to enjoy his agonizing end, as long as Stuart fought, as it gave him sadistic pleasure. But, maybe, just maybe, Falcon would go to bed sooner if he thought that Stuart had already given up.
"Giving up already, mouse boy? Come on, where's your urge to survive? Keep struggling!"
"Why struggle? You're going to get me in the end and we both know it. Why give you the satisfaction of having me struggle?"
"You know, if you're going to be like that and ruin my fun, perhaps I should just burp now and let you die from lack of air."
Don't do it Falcon! he thought. "At least it's better than being ground to death when you've already given up. Glad to see that you're finally going to be kind to your prey and just kill me quickly."
"Now that you mention that, you're right, it would be unlike me. Give up all you want, but you're still going to die the same slow death in the end. And I guarantee you, no matter how much you want to give up now, you will struggle in the end when the pain becomes unbearable."
"You're so cruel, Falcon!"
:"I know, but I get a kick out of this. And you know what, perhaps after I'm done with you and have shit you out, I'll swallow your bird friend next. After all, perhaps now she'd make a better struggling snack in my gizzard than an assistant."
"You're so evil!"
"Thanks for the compliment. It means a lot to me."
RRRRRRGH! The gizzard began to growl. Acid entered, as before. However, this time, the stomach began to grate against him. While he'd been in the proventriulus, he had been able to avoid being hurt by the stomach walls themselves by curling up into a ball. Here, however, that would not avail him. The stomach walls were sharper and were slicing into him. Thankfully, it wasn't as fatal as actual teeth would be, though he knew that he would only last a few hours in here before he would be digested and ground up like hamburger. He had to hope that Falcon would fall asleep before that point. "Ow, the pain!" he moaned. Though he was being dramatic, the grating did hurt. At first it felt like sandpaper being rubbed on his body. However, as time went by, it began to intensify to the pain of being poked with tweezers everywhere. Spots already injured from the proventriculus began to blister like crazy and ooze pus. The air in here was so foul that it made him hurl. The contractions of the muscles were so strong that, he feared, he would be crushed even if curled up into a ball.

Falcon flew to the can. Margalo could hear his gizzard growling louder and louder. "Your friend has reached my gizzard. He'll be dead in a few hours. And once I'm done digesting him, I've decided that I'm going to eat you next."
"No!" Margalo cried.
"Enjoy you time while you can. Soon you'll be falcon food!"
"You're so cruel Falcon!" Margalo yelled.
"Start writing your will."
Stuart could hear, despite the growing loudness of the gizzard, what Falcon had said to Margalo. Now he was even more determined to survive. Now, not only his life was on the line, but Margalo's as well. He had a new strategy, one that seemed the best to work. Falcon had said he'd wait till Stuart cried out in pain, so conserving as much energy as possible by not squirming at all wasn't going to work. Falcon would wait him out. His best bet, he realized, would be to run on adrenaline, scream and cry as much as possible, but still conserve enough energy so that he could get out of the gizzard once Falcon went to sleep. And Falcon, hopefully, would go to sleep, having received his dose of sadistic pleasure at hearing Stuart in agony. And so,he cried and moaned and wailed, complaining that it was too much and that he just wanted it to end. Falcon, as predicted, enjoyed it and rubbed his stomach sadistically, telling Stuart that if only he had met him before royally pissing him off, that he'd have had a quick death. After Stuart was starting to wonder if Falcon was still going to stay up until he was sure Stuart was dead, he was relieved when the bird cackled, saying that he'd gotten what he wanted and now was going to have a snoozer whle he digested his meal.

Once Stuart was sure that Falcon was truly asleep, he pulled at the phyloric sphincter and opened it, slowly squeezing his way through. It was exhausting and made his muscles burn, even worse than the burning feeling of the acid, but he ignored the pain and pushed through, knowing that both he and Margalo would die if he failed At last, with his shirt ripping and buttons popping off, he squeezed through into the small intestine. Now free of the danger of certain death in the gizzard, he collapsed in exhaustion. Now he just had to wait for nature to take its course.

Chapter Five: Small Intestine

Stuart was so exhausted that he slept an hour or two, despite his uncomfortable surroundings. However, as tired as he was, the tugging of the intestinal villi eventually awoke him. He sighed. It looked like that was all the sleep he was going to get for a long while. Now safe from the peril of the gizzard, his biggest annoyance ahead was coming out the other end, which he was sure would be unpleasant, and riding along the digestive tract with Falcon's waste products. Right now, all was silent outside, as Falcon was asleep, dozing, no doubt dreaming about hunting prey and stealing valuables. Inside the bird's body, however, the noise was nearly deafening. He could hear the lungs breathing, the heart beating, the stomach churning above him, and the intestines gurgling all around him. He wondered how he'd managed to sleep through all that noise. No matter, he would just have to wait till nature took its course. The space in the small intestine was too narrow for him to crawl his way forward, so he'd need to rely on peristalsis to move him along. And, besides, why rush his way to a pile of bird shit in the colon?

The villi yanked and pulled, occasionally poking through the rips in his clothing and tickling his bare skin. He wanted to bite them, but knew that would lead to Falcon realizing that he was still alive. His wounds from the proventriculus and gizzard still stung, and some of them were still oozing pus, but, hopefully they would heal in time. At least he hoped they did before he reached the colon. Getting bird shit in them would sting like hell, and likely lead to infection. He tore off parts of his clothing, removed them form a spot that did not have any injuries and applied the torn clothing as bandages to the areas that were torn often and likely to suffer infection from contamination by feces.

Stuart could do nothing but wait as he traveled through the bird's bowels. Thankfully, bird bowels weren't as long as mammalian, so this trip would, at most, take till the following evening before he came to the end of the large intestine. Still, that was more than time enough of a wait for him, though, again, he was in no hurry to get to the colon. While he traversed the small intestine, the night went by, intestinal fluid occasionally coating him, trying to aid in his absorption. This did not happen, though the gooey stuff was unpleasant to him as it got all over him.

Around morning, as Stuart was halfway through the small intestine, the Falcon awoke. He could feel no more struggles inside his gizzard. He grinned and walked to Margalo's can. "Well, well, my gizzard has no more struggling. Looks like your friend is in mouse heaven." he cackled, emitting a loud belch. Margalo burst into tears. Falcon laughed. "Why are you crying? After I shit him out, it'll be your turn to be turned into falcon poop. Then you can back with your little whiskered buddy."
"Falcon, you have no heart!" Margalo sobbed.
"I didn't get to where I am now by having one. Look where you are now for being so sentimental!"
Stuart, meanwhile, was moved through the rest of the small intestine. He was pushed through an opening, entering the area he dreaded: the colon.

Chapter Six: The Colon

Stuart had finally entered the colon. And yes, it stank like shit, because it was filled with shit, and lots of it too. It seemed that he'd caught up with the fermenting remains of the falcon's previous meals. It stank terribly, but he had to bear it. He was hit by the occasional fart as well. Whatever Falcon had eaten was generating a lot of gas. Waste would coat him, and he would brush it off. The trip through the colon was, thankfully, going by much faster than his trip through the small intestine had. The idea of being shit out a cloaca as bird poop with all of this mess did not exactly sit well with him, but at least defecation meant freedom. And freedom meant saving Margalo from being eaten. How he was going to accomplish that without Falcon's notice, especially as the fetid odor on his body was, he realized, likely to give him away if the Falcon was nearby, he wasn't sure.

He was wondering how much longer it would it take when suddenly he reached the bottom of the colon, dropping into the rectum. However, he didn't rest against an anus but kept falling. Finally, he came to rest against something, having left the colon and entered the last zone of the bird's digestive tract: his cloaca.

Chapter ?: The Cloaca

Stuart wondered where he was. Clearly it wasn't the bird's rectum, for he had passed through that. Was this thing he was pressed against the anus? He didn't think so, for he didn't hear any sounds from the outside. Did birds have another intestine? If so, why was this one so very short? He had come to rest in a clump of waste, with more slowly piling in. Unfortunately, more and more was coming in as time went by, and he ran the risk of being suffocated in it eventually. Hours later, as another clump of feces fell into the coprodeum, for that was where he was, the topmost region of the cloaca, a chamber in birds that stored solid and liquid wastes and was used for reproduction, with a plop, he felt that he had to get out of there or risk being suffocated. So he pushed his way through the coprodeal fold and into the urodeum, the second chamber of the cloaca. He pushed through until he was all the way through. Luckily, Falcon didn't notice, for he was busy napping. Stuart found that this chamber was devoid of feces, although it seemed it was the source of the gooey white stuff that had been coming up through the fold that he had wondered if it was an anus. It was urates, the semi-solid waste product that came from a bird's kidney, as they lacked a bladder. Thankfully for Stuart, the cloaca acted in retrograde, so it sent the urates back into the coprodeum, where the liquid and solid wastes were stored together until being voided out the cloacal vent in the proctodeum, the lowermost chamber of the cloaca. Now, Stuart figured, he was out of danger of being buried alive in shit, though sometimes, the urates would come in and he would have to shield himself. Still, not as bad as before. He now just had to wait till Falcon pooped, though Stuart wasn't sure it could be considered pooping if there was piss there as well. Whatever it was called, Falcon would do it eventually. And he'd be out, free. And hopefully Falcon wouldn't notice that he was still alive, would think what he just crapped out were bones. He knew Falcon wouldn't fool around if he found him still alive, but would kill him on the spot. But right now, it didn't look like Falcon was going to be doing any pooping, so he would just have to wait for something to happen. And, half an hour later, something did happen, but it wasn't the something he was hoping would happen.

"Hey there Falcon." It was two girl falcons that Falcon was fond of.
"You two coming over to have a good time?"
"Yep. You give the best sex." said one of them.
"That I do."
"Let's have a long fun evening." said the other.
"Oh, indeed."
Stuart, of course, had been unable to hear any of this. Thus, what came next caught him totally by surprise. Falcon mounted one of the females, pressing his cloacal lips against hers. Her cloaca swelled out, as did his. This process led to the urodeal valve opening, allowing Stuart to see into the proctodeum and see the female's cloaca pressed against Falcon's. He, of course, had no idea what was going on, as the cloacal kiss was unfamiliar to him. The vents kept rubbing as the two lovers moaned and sighed. Stuart, however, was still confused until Falcon hit climax. It was at that point that Falcon's papilae, his sperm ducts, ejaculated, shooting sperm past Stuart and some of it onto him. SQUIRRRRRRRT! SQUIRRT! SQUIRT! SQUIRT! SQUIRT! The sticky fluid hit him it went past, making its way toward the female's cloaca. Now he understood. The falcon was making wupee. Unfortunately for Stuart, his ordeal was just beginning as Falcon ####ed the other female, shooting off even more sperm when he was done than he had the first time. Unfortunately for Stuart, Falcon was just getting started with his sex. In the end, Flacon mated for over two hours, making love with each of them at least 15 times. Stuart was now as covered in semen as he was feces and urates. Still, he was glad that his peepshow was over and that Falcon had decided that was enough sex for the night. Unfortunately, Falcon went to bed, so he knew he wouldn't be excreted that night. Even worse, as soon as Falcon let up on the sex, his ureters opened again, dumping all the urates that had been held back by the sex onto Stuart. This was going to be a long night!

Chapter 8: Falcon Poop

Stuart hated the fact that he had to spend the night in Falcon's butt, but it was the only way out, so he made do with it, though, of course, he got no sleep. He was hit with urates as they were traversed up into the copordeum and with farts as they made their way down into the proctodeum and out the ventral slit. At last, morning came. He so looking forward to not breathing in the fumes of bird stomach, bird intestines, or, worst of all, bird butt. The fresh air would be so sweet! He also needed to get some food, for his stomach was hungry. Not only had he not eaten inside the Falcon, but the foul odors of the stomach, intestinal, and cloacal gasses had caused him to upchuck anything inside his stomach. Still, at least he knew it felt good to go through a stomach, two in fact, and live to tell the tale. Well, hopefully live. He hoped he wouldn't accidentally given it away to Falcon that he was still alive, or else the bird would kill him on the spot. He knew the bird wasn't likely to eat him again with bird shit all over him, but Falcon might slowly disembowel him with those sharp talons of his. So, it was best to move as little as he could during, and, immediately following, excretion, so as not to make the Falcon realize he was still alive. The Falcon would, he hoped, not bother his own excrement to check to see if Stuart had died; why should he if none of his other prey had ever survived?

The falcon, meanwhile, unaware of Stuart's survival, went through his morning routine, including snagging breakfast, two unfortunate rabbits. These rabbits gave him gas, but he liked his rabbit, so what did he care if it meant a gassy cloaca. Staurt, who had to breathe in the many fumes as they made their way out the Falcon's back end, of course, did care. But he tolerated it. Hopefully, he could get a nice bath and go to a room filled with sweat smelling perfumes after this was all over, to get the putrid odors out of his nostrils. Falcon could feel a pressure in the region of his cloaca. "I see you've been digested Stuart. I can feel you in my ass. I'll go let you out." he said. Stuart was glad for this. The Falcon thought he was dead and was now going to release him. However, he wondered what he was going to do about Margalo. Falcon was going to show her what was left of him, to torment her. When Falcon found nothing, he'd be pissed, well, metaphorically, as he'd have already pissed when he released Stuart. He might hurt her. Worse, he might go looking for him when he found no remains of Stuart in his waste. In all of his planning, Stuart hadn't thought of that. But now he did. Had he come all this way through the digestive tract only to die shortly after being excreted?

Falcon had bent his legs into a squat and was about to begin defecating when he heard two voices calling to him. "Hi ladies. Want some more action?" he called back.
"You know it!"
"Well, I'll be with you just as soon as I have a little potty break."
"Ok."
Stuart felt hopeful again. This distraction from Falcon's lovers was exactly what he needed to escape detection and free Margalo. He just hoped it wouldn't hurt too much being squeezed out Falcon's back end.

Falcon sucked in his chest and grunted. PHHHHHHBT! BRRRRT! FTTTT! Gas moved past Stuart, exiting out the cloaca. Stuart was slowly moved into the proctodeum as the cloacal muscles eased him forward as part of the voiding process. He was nearing the open vent, the light, so long hid from him, blinding his eyes. He was almost free. He was pressed against the orifice, the hole struggling to fit him through. He shut his eyes, not wanting to see any more of this until he was safely outside the falcon's body. Falcon, meanwhile, could feel the large mess pressing against his vent hole. Sure it was the remains of Stuart Little. UNNNNNNH! UNNNNNNH! UHHHHH! UNNNNNNH! UHHHH! He huffed and grunted, squeezing the mass slowly through the folds of his cloacal slit. It hurt a bit to push this mass through, but he'd excreted digested prey before and so wasn't too bothered. Stuart, meanwhile, tried to stay as still as possible, not wanting to give the falcon any hint that he was still alive. So far, the bird didn't seem to notice a heartbeat.
More of the mass exited the cloaca as Falcon continued to grunt. After a further minute of huffing and puffing, he felt the mass finally leave his body. It fell down with a PLOP to the ground. Stuart lay there, dazed, not daring to move. He could see Falcon's cloaca opened above him, with a urates starting to trickle out. He shut his eyes, not wanting them to get soiled. The falcon, meanwhile, continued to empty out his wastes. SPLORT! SQUICK! SPLOSH! SPLORT! SPLORT! The urates shot out of the pulsating hole, shooting out like a cannon and landing on Stuart. Some of the waste landed on a stone surface and slowly dripped down like treesap onto Stuart. SPLORT! SPLORT! SPLORT! SQUICK! SQUICK! SPLOSH! More urates exited. PWICA! PWICA! PWICA! PWICA! Feces exited the gaping cloaca, soon falling to the floor. As time went on, more urates and feces exited the falcon's tailhole, piling on top of Stuart. The mouse only opened his eyes when the waste stopped falling. He looked up to see the falcon's cloaca closing. The bird went to some newspaper, which he stocked for toilet paper, and which he used to wipe the waste stains off of his vent. Once he was done with his bathroom business, he left with his lovers, ready for a long morning of lovemaking.

Once he was sure that they were gone, Stuart rushed up the stairs, his tattered clothing barely staying on him, Falcon poop and urates dripping off of him. He ran to the can. Falcon had sealed it tightly. However, he rolled the can across the floor, spotting something that could help him free her. "Falcon, stop it, you bastard!" came Margalo's angry voice from inside the can.
"It's me, Margalo!"
"Stuart? You're alive?! But how? He swallowed you!"
"I can tell you the details later, if you want to hear them."
Stuart pushed the lid against a metal object, soon breaking open the seal. Margalo flew out. "Oh Stuart, I'm so glad to see you. I'm.....ew!"
"Yeah, I survived, but came out the other end. I'm falcon poop. But I'm still alive. And I think you'll have to carry me out of here. Falcon went off to make love with his girls, but he might be back before we can get down the stairs."
"I guess if I have to." Margalo sighed, not keen on having to touch the soiled Stuart. But she did, and the two escaped the tower. After Stuart took a long bath in a fountain, the two returned to the Little house. Stuart doubted his family would believe his story, but he was sure they'd be glad to see him alive.

Falcon, meanwhile, returned. What a morning! He soon found the can opened. How had Margalo gotten out? Perhaps it was that cat he'd seen lurking around, Snowbell. Either he'd eaten her or he'd freed her. Either way, Falcon doubted that she'd come back. And he really didn't want to go looking for her. Much easier to find another assistant. And because he didn't have Margalo anymore, he never thought to look at Stuart's remains, thus never discovering that there was no mouse corpse there. Therefore, he never bothered Stuart and Margalo ever again.