Hunger Pains

Several days have now passed. I am all but certain that the Ring of Acid Resistance the Elves gave me is the only thing keeping me from dissolving into a melty, gooey pile of slush here in this hostile environment. Still, I find myself a growing a bit peckish. Perhaps I can devise a method for preparing some food?

The first step is to figure out what I have on hand. Let’s see. Plenty of animal meat, that much is clear, though some of it is admittedly not particularly well-preserved. Is this dragon a scavenger? Maybe. I’ve seen a few human corpses in here, but I’m not ready to stoop to cannibalism. I don’t want to contract some weird CTI (cannibalisticly transmitted infection). No thanks. The stomach acid itself is only remotely appetizing. It might make a decent sauce, with the right reductions… but I’m getting ahead of myself.

One of the other things I’ve tried to do in the last few days is begin to learn to navigate the stomach. There aren’t many landmarks here (stomachmarks?), and admittedly things tend to slosh about, but I’ve spotted a few memorable items: a set of ticks in one wall, a collection of gold piles (one of which looked as though it had been sat upon at some point; I found a merlot-stained wineglass beside it), and of course the flarynx (the most obvious first choice for a navigation point). There’s also a very, very dark space leading to what I can only assume is the lower portion of the digestive system. I haven’t gone down there yet. Don’t think I will.

While coming up with a method for finding my way around down here, I began collecting trinkets and other items that might be of use. I’ve located a couple of rusty skeleton keys, a broken sword hilt, a dazzling, vaguely spoon-shaped emerald, and a license plate from Oregon (well known for its dragons—perhaps this beast is from there) reading WHTDRGN. Coincidence? Not sure. My best find so far though? A knight’s helmet. With tassel. Aw yeah. I plunked that baby on my skull—forgetting that it was full of acid, and thus drenching myself—and wandered around, no longer fearing head injuries.

But now I have an idea. A wild, crazy idea. This helmet might form a convenient cook pot, and with a bit of acid, plus some bones and chunks of beef… hm. I found a few carrots too—admittedly inside the belly of a horse, but they’re not digested!—so those could help out. Yes. I think this will work.

I found a flat spot and stuck the keys and sword straight down in the stomach lining with the license plate on top to form a little platform. Next I put the helmet on top of the license plate. My magical training is limited. I never learned to make fire. However, lightning is another story…

Electrically superheated license plate + makeshift stew pot + random ingredients = delicious? Sure smells that way! I’m really looking forward to this!

Fuck. Dragon lifted off, sending everything flying and knocking me halfway across the stomach. I almost caught the helmet as it went zooming off, but all I managed to do was smack it and knock all the stew out. And burn my hand.

Guess I’m going hungry for a little while longer. Thank goodness for this nutrient-rich Ring of Nourishment I’m also wearing.