Preds are honestly some of the luckiest people on the planet. I mean, what could ever hope to compare to the sheer ecstatic joy of getting to experience every single delicious second of a nice, filling meal.

Feeling their wild wriggles and struggles slowly die down into a few soft, gentle twitches and spasms. Hearing their muffled moans and cries slowly fade away, drowned out by the steadily growing digestive cacophony of wet, sloppy gurgles, crunches, pops, slurps, and sloshes…

Feeling the distinctive lumps and bulges of their limbs soften and fade beneath your tight skin and fat, breaking down beneath your fingertips as the taut orb of flesh works away at the meal within, slowly rounding out as it grinds down the helpless food’s form and consistency.

Feeling your tightly packed, satisfied belly slowly deflate and shrink into a sagging, sloshy potbelly of gurgling, meaty stew as your meal’s pulverized remains sluice through your guts, the thick, sloppy pulp settling deep within your cramped, smelly bowels.

Preds have it great, I can’t think of anything that could possibly feel more overwhelmingly enjoyable.