#bobvelsebvore

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Since it’s now spooky month how about some more Bob Velseb vore? Maybe a few dates in for the his newly acquired boyfriend and him, showing off just how much he meat he can handle. Or if you don’t wanna how bout just some mass vore, with oral, pec and pit vore with weight gain and disposal?

I can make both of these the same thing, easy stuff. Obviously, this a follow-up to the old V.elseb asks, but I don't feel like searching for them to link.

Barry had to admit, he didn’t think things would go so...well? When the giant, cannibal serial killer basically told him they were dating, Barry figured it was just a little game and he’d be dinner himself sooner or later. But then he survived their first date...and the next...and the next...and the next. And now, a year later, Barry is starting to wonder if it’s not really a game.

Sure, tons of other guys have died over the course of their dates. Like...a lot, a lot. But not Barry. Bob licks him a lot, yeah, and might stick a hand or his head into that slimy, deadly maw...but he always lets Barry go again with a chuckle. Now, it’s Halloween again. Their one-year anniversary. And Bob wanted to do something special. And it involved the large house party that is happening tonight.

Bob is wearing his usual outfit, a thick red sweater and his devil face. Barry had let Bob do some face paint for him, too, so he’s a skeleton this year. A joke, since Bob likes to mention how he ‘has no meat on his bones’. Barry is only half confident that, if he did bulk up, Bob wouldn’t eat him.

Right now, at least, that drooling grin is much more focused on the house they’ve walked up to. Music blares out from inside, door open and already a few people milling about. Everyone is dressed in costumes of some kind and is in some state of tipsy. Barely anyone is even paying attention to them as they walk up...which really just makes the next part easy.

Bob yanks a guy dressed as a superhero up off the porch stairs by the back of his shirt. Maw opened wide, Bob lowers the guy right in, a few wet slurps and gulps sending him away. He barely even got a yell out before Bob’s jaws clack shut and his belly sloshes with live meat dropping inside. The killer slurps over his lips with a groan and pats his gut. “Mmm...now that’s good eatin’...”

Barry can’t help the slight chuckle that comes out of him. The guy didn’t even bulge Bob’s gut out, and it’s gurgling thickly around him. “How many people do you plan on eating, anyway?”

Bob slurps over his lips and looks down at Barry with wide, hungry eyes. “All of ‘em, darlin’.”

“...what?” Barry knew that Bob is a big eater. But he’s usually careful about where he goes to eat and how many people it is. He’s never seen the big guy go for more than ten meals at a time, and even that is when he’s being indulgent. The party is way more than that. “You can’t be serious.”

“Just watch.” Bob chuckles and pats his gut, the porch stairs creaking under him as he walks up. Three more people are lingering around the porch, and Bob does the same thing to each of them--hefts them off the ground and into his drooling jaws, slurping them away with practiced skill. By the time a pair of twitching cowboy boots are disappearing down his gullet, his groaning guts have begun to bulge out his shirt, peeking out of the bottom ever so slightly. Bob looks to Barry, blasts out a thick belch into the smaller man’s face, and then waddles into the house. Barry can only follow in stunned silence.

Bob’s massacre continues inside. The loud music helps to muffle a lot of what happens. Sure, people are more likely to notice Bob devouring others. It’s hard not to when he’s snapping his jaws down on people mid conversation, or walking up to clusters or people and just shoveling them down the hatch. But the yelling doesn’t do much, and no one is able to get away from those drooling jaws.

People try to grab onto their friends, and it gets them sucked down right after. Other try to rub, but Bob’s size makes it hard to get away from him, and he always grabs them and pull them into his maw. A few braver or larger guys try fighting him, but getting close enough to do so all but confirms their fate as food.

Before long, the living room of the house is mostly empty. Bob huffs, pushing a pair of kicking legs into his gullet. He doesn’t even swallow, just sends them down with a long push. “Nnf...there...” Bob slurps over his lips and pats his gut. It’s heavy, sticking out before him several feet and nearly on the ground. It’s bulging around the various people inside, limbs and heads and awkward shapes from costumes stretching him out. His sweater has ridden up on him completely, exposing the pale, hairy flash. It’s churning and rumbling wetly, working hard on all of the meat inside. Bob belches deeply, a couple stray bits flying out of his jaws--a plastic gladiator’s helmet, a boot, and a bone that definitely wasn’t a prop, among other things.

“W-Wow...” Barry murmurs, just staring at that massive gut. He’s never seen it this big. He reaches out, pushing on it and finding it taut. He gives it a rub, earning a content huff from Bob. If it wasn’t for the face paint, Barry’s blush would be very obvious. “Okay...you were able to eat a lot, I’ll give you that.” The gut gurgles thickly against Barry’s hands, as if agreeing. “But you’ve got to be full now, right?”

“Hm...” Bob taps his chin, looking down at Barry over the curve of his gut. “...I s’pose I could give my gut a break.”

“Alright. Maybe we should go before anyone else shows up then, just so--” Barry stops when he watches Bob pull his sweater off and casually toss it onto the couch he just cleared of its occupants. “...what are you doing?”

“I said I’d give my gut a break, darlin’.” Bob stretches his arms out, definitely showing off a bit--his gut has always been round and soft, and while his arms and chest had a bit of that softness as well, he had some well built muscle mass. “Didn’t say I was done.”

“But...” Barry trails off as Bob goes waddling off, towards the kitchen. A few more people are inside, making food or getting some that’s been left out. Barry stands in the large doorway, watching as Bob hoists up a couple of guys.

The two men find themselves getting shoved face first into thick, furry pits. They start to kick immediately, but Bob gives their heads a good shove, and they slip right in. Then they’re sinking deeper, disappearing into his body. It wasn’t just his jaws that he can eat with, after all, and while he had his preference...Bob was hardly far from full. In no time at all, a couple pairs of twitching feet disappear behind black pit fur, and Bob’s arms are bulging out slightly more than usual.

He moves right on, grabbing a guy rummaging through the fridge. He’s dragged up and over the curve of that bulging, stuffed gut. He gets out a surprised yell before his head is crammed between Bob’s pecs, and just like before, the man is simply sinking into the muscles with little resistance. A few tight flexes, and the man is gone, leaving Bob’s chest slightly more bulky than it had been.

The few remaining people in the room are put away just the same. Bob makes eye contact with Barry, arms folded behind his head, a blindly grasping arm and a twitching leg disappearing into each of his pits. “Think I can’t handle my meat anymore?”

Barry shakes his head quickly.

Bob chuckles and heads out back. The backyard has a lot more guys around, sitting by a fire or drinking on the patio. Just like the living room, the eating continues with no issue. Except it goes much faster, with three spaces to stuff with squirming meat instead of one. Bob’s arms and pecs continue to bulge out with each guy he sends in. They all kick and squirm, but the second they get pushed between his pecs or into the fur of his pit, it’s just a matter of time until they’ve been slurped out of sight.

Barry only stopped watching so he could help. He went back into the house, going through each room and telling any stragglers to head to the backyard. “There’s a fight!” “I think I saw your boyfriend kissing someone.” “Someone’s calling for you.” Whatever he could think of to get them to head out, he said it. By the time he’s double checked the house and returned to the backyard, Bob is already coming back inside.

The killer looks down at Barry, who walks directly into his gut. Barry had to back up just to properly see Bob’s face. His gut is still massive, but digestion is already taking its toll, the mass inside getting more compact and growing smaller. His pecs and arms are also massive now, bulging and flexing as they try to contain all the squirming meat. Barry can see an arm or even a head surface from between Bob’s pecs or his pit hair, but a single flex sucks them right back into place. If it wasn’t for the massive double doors, Bob wouldn’t even be able to fit inside.

Barry can’t even say anything. He just stares, and it makes Bob chuckle. The smaller man is gently ushered along, back to the living room, and Bob settles onto the couch. It breaks almost immediately under him, but he just settles in and pats his gut. “Happy anniversary, darlin’.”

“You...did this for the anniversary?” Barry asks. He slowly raises his hands to start rubbing along Bob’s gut, then up to his pecs and along his arms.

“What can I say? I wanted to show off a bit.” Bob pats the top of his gut with both heads. He tips his head back and lets out a deep, rumbling belch into the air. Barry swears it makes the entire house shudder. More bits of costume bounce around, and at least a few bones, too. “Figures I’d put on a show for ya.”

All these people are digesting for Barry, then. Some...god, fifty or so partygoers who were just trying to have a good night are now just food. Packed into Bob’s hellish guts, or stuffed into his tight, musky muscles, doomed to die, just so Bob could ‘show off’ for Barry. The smaller man pushes his hands a bit deeper into Bob’s gut, finding more resistance, and even getting another wet belch out of the killer. “...thanks, Bob. This was...wow.”

Bob chuckles and settles back. “Glad ya enjoyed it. Happy anniversary, lambchop. Now then...” WIth a mighty yawn, Bob closes his eyes. “I’m gonna sleep this off. You have fun down there.”

Before long, the sound of heavy snoring is joining the thick rumbles of Bob’s gut and the crunches and snaps coming from his muscles. And Barry enjoys it all, rubbing over every inch of the man’s body, feeling it work and process all of that meat. Up until he fell asleep against that rapidly softening gut.

Come morning, Bob was up first, yawning and blinking sleepily. He can feel his little lambchop sleeping against him, a rather familiar feeling at this point. Bob would have stayed like that if not for the wet rumbling in his bowels demanding attention. So, with a bit of effort, Bob grunts and rises to his feet.

Bob’s stomach wobbles as it drops in front of him. It’s always been heavy and round, but it’s gotten at least twice as large, hanging out at least a foot before him. He notices that his thighs and ass have had a similar shift, given how tight his pants are on him. But he also has a lot more strength to pair with that. His arms are bulky now, all solid muscle. His pecs are about the same, large and strong, resting slightly on top of his gut.

Bob smirks and scratches his gut gently, getting a wet groan in response. “Bet lambchop will love this...” He looks over at the man in question, seeing Barry still sleeping on the ruined couch. Bob grabs his sweater and pulls it down over his head. It only half covers his gut, and his arms and chest are straining the fabric. He huffs and lifts up Barry next, simply holding the now much smaller man against his gut with one arm. The other arm helps get his pants down enough to let his ass hang out. Bob squats slightly and begins to push.

There’s a bassy fart at first, one that rumbles out for a good while. The only reason it stops is because of the solid mass that starts to stretch him out. Thick, dense logs of shit are all but overflowing Bob’s bowels, and they’re sliding out with a bit of urgency. A heavy thump sounds out when the first log hits the couch, and it’s quickly coiling up. The mass only breaks from its own weight, letting more dung heap up regardless.

Plenty of solids have gotten out of Bob’s body. Bones are the easiest to see, specks of white that break up the dark brown and awkward shapes that stick out every so often. Entire skeletons are likely baked down into every log, given the sheer amount of people making up the mess. But along with that is all of the costumes parts. Masks, plastic armor, cheap suits and accessories--they also pepper the logs of shit, all of them worn down or slightly ruined by the acid bath or being compacted.

Despite all of the awkward shapes, the thickness of the logs, and the sheer mass of shit, Bob is having little issue. Other than the occasional grunt or grumble, his dump continues with little interruption. And the mass of shit behind him keeps building up. The couch is smothered fast, the pile rising hire, some hundreds of pounds of shit heaping in the room. Bob has to move forward every so often, just to give himself more space to work with. By the time he feels the last of the crap slop out of him, he’s moved halfway across the room.

Bob lets out a deep sigh and stands up again. He yanks on a curtain to wipe himself clean and pulls his pants back up with a bit of effort. Behind him, the living room is filled with a pile of crap that would put manure farms to shame. It’s tall enough to reach the ceiling at its peak, smothering most of the back wall and sloping down. Furniture has been knocked over or smothered under the thick logs. The smell is almost overwhelming, and it’ll likely never come out of the house. And of course, countless amounts of bones and costume parts stick out all over. In one night, an entire Halloween house party was reduced to crap, and all with no effort.

Bob doesn’t even look back at the pile he made. He walks off, squeezing through the front door, all while Barry sleeps against him. Bob can’t help but grin looking down at him. Nothing cuter than seeing the little guy sleeping against his deadly guts. Must’ve been up for hours, Bob figures. He’ll probably just return to bed once he’s back home, let Barry sleep in.

By the time anyone notices the smell and investigates, the killer will be gone, likely back home to spend the day with his boyfriend. For everyone in town, it’ll end up being a Halloween that’ll never be forgotten. For Bob, it’ll just be the anniversary he has to one-up next year. His cute little boyfriend deserves it, after all.

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Can we get some more bob velseb vore? Perhaps a continuation of the prompt you did for him before?

Yeah, definitely! I presume this one is asking about this story, so that's what I'm working with.

Barry still couldn't quite believe that this was actually happening. He'd been quiet the whole way there, letting the deranged cannibal simply drag him along. Now they're sat down at a restaurant for a dinner he'd reserved with his boyfriend. Except...his boyfriend is just some sludge pumping through the killer's bowels, and instead, he can only watch as Bob greedily tears into his third steak.

""Mmm..." Bob gulps the last bite down and licks his lips. "Now, this place knows how to make a steak. Haven't had one that good in a while." He chuckles to himself and pats his stomach a few times, which lets out a noisy groan against his hand. Barry can't help but stare at it.

"But..." Bob slowly rubs along it, his near-perpetual grin widening just slightly. "...I'm still starving over here. Guess those treats at the haunted house weren't enough, even with the steak." Barry finally looks up from the killer's stomach to meet his eyes, seeing the light of a hungry predator gleaming from them. "Wouldn't want our first date to end on a hungry stomach, would we?"

"F-First?" B.arry asks hesitantly. Is he implying more? Why the hell would he go on more dates with this guy?! He should be calling the cops! Why hasn't he?! Bob has gone unnoticed so far since everything just thinks its a costume, but surely the police will listen and--

"Of course first!" Bob exclaims with a laugh. "I'm your boyfriend now, you think you can get away with taking me on just one date? You didn't treat the other one like that, did you?" He rubs over his gut slowly and tilts his head. He stops when it lets out a noisy groan. "Speaking of...I'm still starving."

Barry shrinks back in his seat slightly as he watches Bob summon the waiter over with a gesture. With a slurp of his lips, the cannibal yanks the man down, drooling maw opening impossibly wide to take him. in. Actually watching Bob eat a man whole was...quite the experience for Barry. He already knew the killer could do it, but that's different from seeing it happen. Bob's jaws stretched so easily over the thrashing waiter, each gulp sucking him down the hatch as easily as it had those bites of steak. In no time, kicking legs are disappearing with a wet slurp, and Bob is licking his lips again as his belly bloats outward with its latest snack.

Bob lets out a thick belch and pats his gut a few times. It's pressed tightly against the table now, gurgling up a storm. Barry finds himself staring at it again. "I don't mind if ya wanna touch it," Bob says with a lax smile. "Go ahead. I don't bite."

Touch it..? Why the hell would he want to touch it?! This is disgusting! It's wrong! It's...It's...really soft. That's the first thing Barry thinks when he does put his hand against Bob's stomach, feeling it squish with all the fat already on it. It's warm, too, especially thanks to the digestive process going on inside. Barry can barely feel the waiter inside through all the heft...he can barely hear the man, too.

"How about...we get some food to go and we finish this up at my place?" Bob offers with a big grin. "And you can spend tonight gettin' real personal with the ol' tank here." He pats the side of his stomach a few times and chuckles darkly. For some reason...Barry likes the idea.

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Got an ask from @1am13zach that I accidentally answered privately and lost access to! So I'm going to use this as a way to answer it because I liked it. Ask was wanting Bob V.elseb content with disposal!

B.ob chuckles softly as he waddles down the street, his gut sloshing back and forth. He ran into some drunk college students egging someone's house--good fun for the holiday when you're too old to get free candy. Well, B.ob doesn't have that issue. He pats his stomach a few times and lets out a crass belch. He can feel some of those college guys shifting around in his gut, stretching out his sweater enough that a sliver of his belly is poking out. He really can't get enough of his kind of food. He gets to frighten people off and indulge in his greedy desires all at once. Another belch rumbles out of B.ob as his guts churn wetly. Someone goes limp inside and he practically purrs at the sensation of knowing he's melting that man alive. They're all too drunk to fight back properly, which is what made them such easy meals to begin with. The best their struggles do now is make his belly slosh around back and forth, which he's doing plenty of just by walking along. They definitely won't be his last meals of the night but they're some of his favorites right now. And they're going right through him, too. He can feel the other two slowing down like their friend. One goes limp...then the other...B.ob shudders and his grin widens. He presses down on his gut and feels his hand sink right in. Nothing but slop now, chugging further down. They'll add a bit of heft to his gut, maybe his ass, but he can't take all of that. That's why, when he feels his bowels groan, he takes a detour into a back alley, disappearing into the darkness of it. The sounds of wet splats and thuds ring out, as well as some deep groans of pleasure. When B.ob walks back out, he's tugging his pants up again, his stomach much smaller. A bit of a stink lingers on him, but he doesn't care. He left most of it back in that dumpster, as well as the three drunken college boys, now little more than a heaping pile of manure. There'd be plenty more of those tonight, though. B.ob is far from full.

B.ob was a bit surprised to have his arm grabbed and suddenly found himself being pulled along by a group of guys. He was so taken aback by it that he didn't just immediately eat them. But that was for the best as he finds himself being taken to a large costume party that the guys were walking to, mistaking B.ob for a friend of theirs. The killer grins wide seeing the place that's simply teeming with food for the taking. His stomach lets out a deep growl when he gets inside and sees all the costumed men wandering around. His 'friends' laugh and encourage him to go get a bite to eat, which B.ob is more than happy to do. He slinks off, pushing carelessly through the crowd as he looks for some good places to eat. Ironically, he starts with the bathroom, where he's able to get alone with a guy who was trying to walk out. Wet gulps and slurps are muffled by music and chatter, and when B.ob walks back out with a squirming, sloshing gut, no one even bats an eye. They just assume it's part of a costume. So B.ob continues to pick off partygoers wherever he can. He gets wrapped up in some drunken Seven Minutes in Heaven and gets to devour three guys in the darkness of a closet before he's told it's someone else's turn. By the time anyone wonders where all his partners went, he's waddled off to get more. A couple of the bedrooms were getting a bit steamy, but that doesn't stop B.ob from barging in and slurping the men right out of their beds. One guy even asks if B.ob had seen his boyfriend--some fellow in a silly bird costume. The cannibal recalls slurping him down in the bedrooms and, ever helpful, devours the boyfriend as well. He sucks on his fingers and lets out a crass belch after. By now, his stomach isn't being contained by his sweater, left to simply hang out heavily as his various meals fight for space or freedom. B.ob steals a couple of guys going into the basement to get more beers, helpfully coming back out carrying two kegs under his arms like nothing, and then retires to a couch to relax and let all that meat process. Through the night, guys kept stopping by to rub or prod at his gut, marveling at his 'amazing costume'. They'd get some nasty belches in their faces and deep chuckles but B.ob was content to let his meals process a bit...he ends up fast asleep though and the party moves on without him, no one paying enough attention to his stomach to notice is get rounder and shrink down. Come morning, he's prodded awake by one of the partygoers and asked if he'll help clean. B.ob rises from his seat and drops his pants. With a grunt, thick shit slides out of his fattened ass, piling up on the couch behind him. He buries it under the mass, bones and parts of costumes sticking out of the muck. The partygoer is left stunned by the display, not saying anything as he watches the cannibal just unload on the couch. As soon as B.ob is done, the man's hoisted up and devoured, and the killer waddles out of the house with a final belch.

"Quit'cher complain'," B.ob huffs as he pokes the man in front of him in the chest. He'd gotten into the man's house after devouring the guy who answered the door. He's only just learned that was this man's youngest son and he'd had two more than B.ob happily devoured before turning his eyes on the last one. The man hadn't taken too kindly to a strange breaking into his home and devouring all of his kids, but B.ob wasn't the least bit sympathetic as he forced the man to sit there and rub over his churning stomach. It's done its job well, smelting the three men down into nothing but sludge with all the rubs, and now they're just sinking deeper. B.ob grins as he feels his bowels groan with a building weight. "Did you know that human gas is caused by swallowing air during eating?" he asks, leaning in a bit closer to the man, who just looks confused. B.ob leans over a bit and grunts as he farts, stinking up the living room in an instant. "Aaah...your boys were full of it, after all." The man covers his nose as B.ob rises, knocking him back with his stomach. The killer goes ot he center of the room and drops his pants, squatting down. He stares at the man with a big grin as he takes his dump, soft shit hitting the ground under him and beginning to pile up. The man is frozen, eyes wide in disgust and grief, knowing exactly what that awful pile used to be. B.ob chuckles and grunts, closing one eye as he forces out a skull. After a couple minutes, he's pinched off the last log and stands up again, yanking his pants up. "There, ya got yer boys back, just like I promised. Have a happy H.alloween." With a wave, B.ob lumbers off. Eating the man as on his mind...but he thought this was a far more entertaining use of his time. He's sure he'll get to enjoy him next year anyway. B.ob isn't one to let meat get away form him.

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Hello👋💜

I hope you are doing well and life been easy on you. I hope you don’t mind, but I wish to request a story. I wish that you could write a story about what you desire.

Sorry for the strange request, but I was curious on what you would like to write if someone ask.

Hm...this is honestly an interesting question if only cause what I wanna actually write for tends to change a lot on the day-to-day based on whatever random idea of fascination has gotten my attention. Sometimes a character or franchise is stuck in my head, sometimes I'm playing with a concept for days on end, it all really depends. So if you guys send me asks like this, I shouldn't have too much trouble coming up with something to write.

Anyhow, there is a new guy I'm obsessed with, so I will write a story for him!

In all honesty, he didn't want to do this. Halloween wasn't really his thing, and haunted houses especially weren't, but his boyfriend had basically dragged him out here despite his protests. He even got convinced to dress up for the occasion, wearing a cheap hockey mask and nothing else. His boyfriend had gone for the zombie look, makeup and all. He'd been convinced due to a promise for a dinner date after, so he'd relented. But now the worst thing has happened: he's lost sight of his boyfriend, and even worse, he's gotten lost himself.

"All this for a stupid reservation dinner...ugh..." Wandering the dark, decorated halls is annoying but...he's starting to notice how eerily quiet it's gotten. No actors jumping out to scare him...no one else wandering around...and, most importantly, not even his boyfriend. Going backwards wasn't doing him much good, and he was about to go look for the exit to wait for him, when he rounded a corner and walked right into something big and soft.

"Unf..!" He stumbles back, hitting the wall behind him. He looks up while rubbing his head to realize he bumped into someone big...and tall. He's wearing a dark red sweater, stretched over a large gut. His face is just as red, with wide eyes and a big, drooling smile, and two horns sticking from his head. "Uh...h-hey...are you one of the workers..? I'm...looking for my boyfriend. We got separated."

"Did you know..." The devil leads in close, his breath stinking of old meat. "...that some cultures used to believe eating the flesh of others was a way to gain their strength?"

The man in the hockey mask blinks. "Uh...what--"

The devil stands up straight again, grabbing his stomach and shaking it back and forth. It sloshes thickly, like it's full of jello. "Was your boyfriend a vampire...or maybe a ghost?"

"O-Oh, uh, he...he was a zombie actually. He spent like an hour doing the makeup for it..."

The devil's eyes shine for just a moment. "Oooooh...hehehe, is that right..?" He gives his stomach a few slow, dull pats. "Yeah...you're not seeing that one again. He stopped moving around half an hour ago."

"Wh-What? What are you talking about? You've seen him?"

"Sure I have, and I'll be seeing him again in the bathroom in an hour or so. I'd send you after but..." The devil reaches over and pinches the man's arm. "...you're all skin and bones. You're hardly what I'd call prime meat. More like...gristle."

A sinking feeling begins to settle in the man's stomach. "Wait, you...you ate..."

The devil thumps his chest and belches wetly, a bone flying out of his jaws and clattering to the floor. "Mmm...sure I did. This place was packed full of meat, but I think it's just about empty now. Just the scraps left." The devil stares right into the man's eyes as he says that, making him shrink back.

"We...We were...supposed to go to dinner...after this..." the man mumbles softly.

The devil's eyes widen and his grin grows. "Dinner..?" He's even starting to drool again. He leans in close, sticking his face right into the man's. "Why didn't you say so? I'm always ready for second. Since your boyfriend's just a part of me now, that makes me your boyfriend, right?" He takes the man's hand and begins walking, easily dragging the smaller male along behind him.

"Wh-What?! It doesn't work like--h-hey, slow down!" The man stumble along as he tries to keep up. "I-I don't even know your name!"

"Don't you watch the news?" The devil looks back at the man as they head for the exit. "...the name's Bob. Bob V.elseb."

The man's stomach sinks further. "That...That can't be right..." The cannibal serial killer..? The one that escapes prison? And now he's...

The two make it outside. Bob rubs over his stomach as it lets out a rumble. He looks back at the man he's holding onto, drool dripping down his face. "Well, point me in the right direction, boyfriend. We don't want to miss dinner. I'm starving."