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When Narancia started shrinking, he went into a slight panic.
Five feet, four feet, three. Centimeter by centimeter, he began to grow smaller, the world growing more and more intimidating with each inch he lost. At least his clothes shrunk with him, he thought. He didn’t want to be small and naked, that’s for sure. To top it all off, the cause of his decrease in size had been hiding in his pocket, even smaller than he, and had started to attack, though his assailant had soon returned to his original size.
And now, here he was. About to get bitten and devoured by a spider the same size as him. He was surely gonna die... He scrambled around the bottle, trying his best to avoid the ravenous arachnid lunging for him. Formaggio seemed to grow frustrated, shaking the bottle a little.
“Just sit still and let the spider fucking eat you already!” Formaggio exclaimed in anger.
He paused. His stomach rumbled.
“…Or I could eat you instead.” He muttered, pulling the cork out of the bottle and dumping the disoriented Narancia onto his outstretched palm, tossing it to the side and letting it shatter against the wall.
Narancia, fearful and confused, peered up at his assailant, clenching and unclenching his fists “Wh-What?”
“Seems like if you want somethin’ done right, you gotta do it yourself..” Formaggio sighed before lifting Narancia up by his shirt, opening his mouth and dropping him in.
If Narancia wasn’t already in a panic, he definitely was in one now.
Roughly tossing the 17 year old around on his tongue, Formaggio moved to lean on a nearby brick wall, crossing his arms and furrowing his eyebrows as he focused on what he was doing. Narancia tried to climb up off of Formaggio’s tongue, climbing towards what he thought was his front teeth. It was hard to orient himself, and it was dark, but he was pretty sure he was climbing towards the right thing.
Damn, he’s still squirming… Formaggio thought, curling his tongue and flipping Narancia away from the front of his mouth. He pressed the boy to the roof of his mouth before tilting his tongue back so it acted as a ramp down to the back of his throat. Narancia began to slide down, scrambling in a panic to try and get out of Formaggio’s mouth. With one final flick of his tongue, Narancia was at the back of his throat, and Formaggio swallowed, starting to send the Stand user on a downward trip to his stomach.
Narancia squirmed, suddenly squeezed tight and unable to move. Shit, was it humid in here! He tried to shift around as he slowly slid down, directing his gaze upward as he accepted that he couldn’t really get out of this at this point in his southbound journey.
It took a few swallows, and a few gulps of water (which promptly drenched Narancia), but Formaggio soon got his meal down his throat, Narancia plunging down into the acidic content of his stomach. Shrieking in surprise and pain, Narancia scrambled to climb out of the stomach acids, sidling up on the wall of Formaggio’s stomach and pressing himself against it. He was not about to let himself get digested, no sir.
The silence in his gut starting to almost confuse him, Formaggio leaned forward, looking at himself “No comment, kid?” Formaggio asked his own stomach, straining his ears for a reply from the small Narancia inside his stomach.
“Y-Your breath fuckin’ stinks.” Narancia grumbled, trying to keep a cool attitude while he nervously shyed away from the acids surrounding him “Go out and buy some damn mouthwash.”
“Should be the least of your worries though, huh?” Formaggio asked with a shit-eating grin, leaning back against the wall and resting a hand on his stomach.
“Th-This was a bad idea on your part, y’know!!” Narancia exclaimed “I could attack you with Aerosmith from inside here!”
“Good luck?” Formaggio said with uncertainty “Little Feet’s got Aerosmith held tight. And besides, I dunno if that’d be the best idea. What if you shot at my stomach, huh? You’d die from your own attack.”
Narancia paused. He had a good point…
“Th-Then how the hell am I gonna get out?!”
“When I go take a fuckin’ dump later, that’s how.”
Narancia grumbled “I hope I give you goddamn diarrhea.”
Formaggio only chuckled, softly patting his stomach. Narancia, disoriented and growing weak from the lack of oxygen, started to stagger, slipping and falling with his feet dangling in the acids. He was too tired to care, starting to dip in and out of consciousness as he lay in Formaggio’s otherwise empty stomach.
The silence alerted the predatory Formaggio, glancing down at his stomach. Narancia’s out, he thought with a grin, tilting his head back against the wall. He’d done his job, and Risotto Nero would be more than pleased. That’s all that mattered.