I want to ram my meatsnake down Judy Hopps throat. Keep in mind im about 4 times her size, so my wiggler is dipping into her intestinal acid. She cant reathe but she digests the tip of my sausage and lives upon the nutrients. She cries and cries and tries to reach for her gun – but it isnt in her holster. Ive got it behind my . I pull it out – she freaks out. You can see what little hope she has left degrade further and further – she wont survive this. But she has one thing, one hope, one personto cling on to – and he just knocked on the door. “judy? ” i hear nick’s voice and picture his smug face before i see it. I turn around. Nick. He stands there horrified, groceries in hand, as he witnesses the horrors happening before him. Judy is choking on my pork chop and running out of air – and time. Her tearful eyes look to nick in desperation, then realization, as she sees the revolver in my hand. I lift it, quivering, at the wilde’s freaking face. He freezes, my finger squeezes, a shot rings off. Hole in his head, brains on the wall behind him. I have slain the mighty nicholas wilde, and extinguished the dying flame of hope that judy clung to. She stops fighting for her life after watching nick sink to the floor. Within seconds, she is dead, mouth still on my sausage, reaching all the way down to her stomach. Finally, it bursts. Gallons of piping hot cream are flung into the stomach of the dead hopps. At last, i am satisfied.