Mjolnir Ink

The stench wasn't bad as far as decay goes. But to say it was spongie would be less than accurate. Stewy is the word. A soup of rot. The liquid flesh help together by bone and fur. Small bits of semi solid flesh, mear islands for the maggots as they swim through this pudding of decay. The first attempt at removal proves useless, as the remains slip and drip apart. Making a dull splatting noise as it reveals the nearly born. Plastic bags will be required. Reminds me of the time myself and Cartwright moved the 250 gallon compressor and found a rat that died in birth. He started sing a new song, "Breech Baby Rat Burritos".

Riff Raff is the 5th column