The voices in your head rise in volume once again.
>BITE THE LUMP, BITE IT NOW!!
Why though?
>BECAUSE I’M HUNGRY!!
Shit, good a reason as any.
In a flash, your teeth are firmly lodged in the mound.
It is the most foul, rancid, nauseating combination of stale diahhroea and God-knows-what mold you have ever had the displeasure of smelling.
You immediately stagger back and vomit repeatedly.
<Uh… you alright?
Cobbert says, somewhat perturbed, not coming closer for fear of entering the blast radius.
Cobson seems unfazed, smiling professionally as ever.
<Let’s keep the horseplay to a minimum, okay?
What do you do?
