Adrenaline rushed through Noah as he quickly took stock of where he was—perhaps a space more dangerous than even the store’s floor.

Far above him, he watched helplessly as Madeline’s hand plunged down towards the bowl. The chip he had fallen on was thankfully Madeline’s chip of choice. Her fingers crashed into the bowl—cracking and snapping chips left and right as they crudely began to wrap around their target.

The sheer impact of the hand into the bowl of chips felt like a car crash. The entire bowl shook and dipped slightly, and the force was enough to knock Noah off of his chip.

Everything disappeared into a haze of salt and vinegar, for just a moment, before Noah landed hard on his back onto a second chip just below the first. He reached out and tried to grasp the edges. However, as soon as he wrapped a hand around the edge of the chip, it cracked and gave way under pressure.

Shit! Noah’s mind raced. The only way to balance is to lay flat.

And so, he did just that. Rotating onto his back, Noah lay spread-eagle across the length of the chip—or rather, as much as he could given his diminutive stature.

The awful snapping and rumbling of nearby chips slowly stopped as Madeline’s hand presumably raised up and out of the bowl. His suspicions were confirmed when the terrible sound of her teeth crashing into the chip rang throughout the bowl.

Crunch!

He helplessly listened as sharp, dry crunches faded into a wet churning sound above as Madeline made quick work of her meal. Even from this far down, Noah felt a tinge of fear and arousal as he heard Madeline sent the remains of the chip down into her throat.

GULP.

The sound seemed to penetrate Noah into his very soul.

She’s going to eat me.

His thoughts turned to a terrible truth as he frantically tried to think of options.

With the shaking bowl, there wasn’t going to be any way out of here by climbing out. The sheer walls of the bowl were far too steep, and given all that had happened today, he doubted Madeline would be scanning her bowl for microscopic friends. In here, he was food. And food was meant to be eaten.

And the only way to avoid that was to get as deep as he could into the chips.

As soon Madeline’s hand sank into the bowl of chips a second time, Noah took the shaking and spinning of his world to his advantage. He rolled on his side off the edge of the chip—bouncing off of shards and broken pieces all the way down. It felt like agony—like using every ounce of your energy bouncing off tree limbs to avoid being killed by hitting the ground.

After several long, brutal seconds of pain, Noah finally came to a crashing halt on top of a bed of crumbs.

The impact knocked the wind out of him, but as soon as he was able to blink the flavor dust out of his eyes, he started to breathe just a little bit easier.

Down here, at least for now, he felt safe.

He lay prone on the bottom of the bowl, surrounded by crumbs, and could only helplessly listen as the terrible sounds from above repeated over and over again.

Crunch! Crunch!

Gulp.

His canopy of chips slowly grew thinner and thinner as Madeline worked her way to the bottom of the bowl. Soon enough, there were only three chips left.

Above him, the last of his cover had been blown. As far as he was concerned, he looked too much like a bug to risk being spotted. Not now.

Noah ripped his hands into the bed of dust, quickly digging up a small trench and burying himself in it like sand.

This should work, he thought to himself. She’ll finish the bowl and ditch it for work.

But what if she throws it away?

That’s okay, he told himself, then I’ll climb out. I’ll find a way out. I’ve been trashed once before.

Beside him, a chip was plucked from the bowl and placed into Madeline’s gaping maw.

She’ll be at work, and I’ll climb out. I’ll find a spot to hide for a while. Maybe even find a way for her to see me.

The penultimate chip was then pulled from the bowl. Noah’s heart raced but his mind never stopped. Whether this was to figure out a plan of attack, or simply calm his nerves, he wasn’t sure.

Madeline’s a nice girl. We got along really well. If I can just get her attention, she’ll take care of me. She’ll tell my parents I’m alright.

Finally, Madeline’s hand lowered again. Her perfect fingers wrapped around the final chip, which unceremoniously deposited it into her open mouth. Her teeth dropped down, and—

Crunch!

She chewed and swallowed the last chip.

Whatever was going to happen, was going to happen now.

Noah raised himself slightly from the pile of crumbs. Should I try to get her attention now? Is it worth it? If she looks down at the bowl one more time, I’ll—

His thoughts shut off suddenly as he felt her hand grab the edge of the bowl.

And this time, they were tipping it.

“No, no!!!” Noah cried out. He pieced together what was happening only just in time to see it.

Maddie was lifting the edge of the bowl to her mouth and dumping everything—Noah included—into it.

Noah tumbled, head over heels as the pile of chips slid across the floor of the bowl and up its side. He brushed away debris and helplessly watched as his view shifted from Madeline’s waiting stomach, to her perfect breasts, past her throat, and up to her mouth.

Her massive lips had already parted—opening the way for him and the rest of her food. Noah ripped himself out of the pile of crumbs and desperately tried to cling onto the bowl.

But there was nothing to grab. His hands slid across the smooth surface until the friction burns caused him to pull his hands back. Still he tumbled.

“Madeline!! Maddie, please! Look down! Look down!” He cried out everything he could think of, to no avail. Perhaps if the tv was turned down, or if she had paid close attention, she may have heard a faint squeaking sound coming from her bowl.

But why would she pay attention to it? In her bowl, was food. Its only use was to be dumped into her open mouth, chewed to bits, and sent down the hatch.

Food was food. And now, food included Noah.

Her hot, wet breath struck him moments before he felt the edge of the bowl drop out from beneath him. He looked up one final time to see, just past her nostrils, Madeline’s eyes.

They were locked on her show.

And then it everything went dark.

…

…

For what felt like a short infinity, nothing happened. Noah had landed on something soft, slimy, and wet—her tongue, no doubt. Her lips had sealed his fate moments ago, plunging him into complete blackness.

In here, it smelled overwhelmingly like vinegar and onions. The air was so wet with humidity it was almost unbreathable. In the silence, Noah could only wait until Madeline began to chew.

And so she did.

Her tongue tossed Noah and the rest of the crumbs upward and to the left. He felt his body leave the surface of her tongue and crash into the sharp, dense surface of her teeth. As soon as he had his wits about him, he dove off further left, away from the teeth. He struck the inside of her cheek and slid down unassumedly as the molars he had just left bore down on the rest of her food.

Crunch!

In here, the sound was wet and violent as Madeline masticated her food into a pulpy mess. A mess he was very nearly a part of.

“Please, god!” Noah shouted, his voice trembling. This was a fate worse than death. In here, all he could to was dodge and try to avoid the inevitable.

He was going to die inside of her.

Noah felt himself crash waist-deep into a puddle of spit in the space between her teeth and her tongue. The ground raised and dropped as her jaw worked everything into a pulp. But of course, it wasn’t going to be calm for long.

Noah felt a sudden pressure on his back, and found himself forced underneath the surface of the spit, as Madeline’s tongue worked him out of the space and forced him back towards her teeth.

She had felt him, no doubt, and was making sure every ounce of food went where it belonged.

Noah was pressed deep into what felt like a large wad of wet crumbs—turned into a cementitious slurry by all of the chewing. Madeline’s tongue pressed him deep into its surface, and he found himself well and truly embedded.

Then, without warning, the time came.

Noah and the ball of food tumbled down, towards the back of her Madeline’s throat.

Noah’s protests now came out as barely more than a sobbed whimper:

“Somebody help me… please.”

The ground dropped out beneath, Madeline’s tongue snapped back, and her powerful muscles sucked the food, Noah, and all of the spit down her throat in one terrible–

GULP.