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You’ve really let me down lately. Can’t keep up. Can’t serve. Can’t please. I’m standing here, visibly pregnant, belly round and heavy. And the only thing you’re good for now, is this. Satisfying my latest craving. You see, it’s not pickles or sweets I’m hungry for… it’s you. That’s right. I want to eat you. Stuff you down and feel my belly swell even bigger with your worthless, squirming body inside. I bring you closer, begin to lick all over you, getting a taste of my little snack. And once I’ve had my fill? My belly’s grown even larger, tight and stretched, and I can feel you moving in there, panicking. It’s adorable. I mock your desperation, laughing at how pathetic you feel, trapped in your superior’s womb-like prison. You’re nothing but fuel now. My craving is satisfied, and your fate is sealed.