Out of Griffon Solitary


Written by Septia.


-Bbgrrooumbgls- A disruption of fumes curled through the griffon's guts, the portly abdomen contracting as it funneled gas down through his insides. The gut contracted, and the snoring warden shifted forwards on this desk. His beak sloped off his arms to notch into the table with a sharp thud -Thhcclk-. 
	“Mpfuahwah?” Gareth wheezed out, startled by the sudden sharp resistance and worming his eyes open from slumber. “Mmm, Oough, these lazy days…,” he mumbled as he regained his senses. The griffon came to glance at his stomach. “Phew, though not as lazy as you, right?” He mused and brushed down his gut -Gbllrogubsg-. 
	The belly quivered in a growling grumble, dense to the touch. “Huh, or not, seems my gut's been on a double shift with ya after all,” he clenched his talons into a fist and jabbed it deeper against the gut eliciting a squelch of displaced mud curdling its way through his system -ShhGjjrllostshp-. 
	“Myeah, for bein' such a bother ya sure melt down like a sucker. What, you two-legs got butter instead of bone? Sure feels like it,” he mumbled as he toyed with his stomach.


Gareth shifted out of the seat and rose, walking to the corner of his office. “Don't you think I can't feel it coming, and I ain't letting a crumb of you escape ya sentence, pussy boy.” He said as he sauntered into the bathroom, plonked his dump trick down on the seat – the charcoal black contrasting with the pearlescent porcelain – before the first fart could escape his system. -Pphhbbrrwwppfbbth- The bout of griffon-brewed, human-based gas echoed into the bowl. A redolence of deep-fried peppered jerky confined under the warden's prominent posteriors. 
	“Mmfghs, phaa, yeah, yeer not going anywhere but down the drain.” He shidted and kneaded his read down on the seat with his pucker splayed in a huff of flatulence -Bwwrmfff-, that parted the rectum for the bile within to inch it's way closer in a crackling cacophony of crinkles -Chhrrkfllscrl- -Cbhrrllsp-.
	One could spot a faint auburn hue in the gaping rim, shrouded in darkness as it wedged to and fro, underlined by the griffon's grunts. “MMfghghs, mpgsh, thought ya wanted out of this joint, were a real vocal kitten about it yesterday, huh? And now that I gone out of my way to solve all ya woes, you are being, mfmghha… a stubborn git.” Gareth mused under his breath, tail swaying in articulate curls as he worked on the batch of bowel baked inmates. 
	-Chhrgllsoorpsh- The muck crawled it's way closer to the black rhind, its auburn texture brought into an amber highlight. Swelling as it approached the brim. Gareth's pucker blotting out to a bulb around the encroaching plateau of mulch crowding the expanse of the ass, a textured pattern of fractures dressing the mound as it piled on. -Chhgllrg-. “Mffsh… really now, phhe, guess I made a better job of locking you up than I gave myselfmfms ghhrg-… credit for~.” Gareth toyed with the ex-inmate. He straightened his back; with one palm on each knee, he put more force into concentrate the pressure and strain down his sphincter -Chhrlglpghff-. 
	As the clog compiled in the griffon's hind it soon passed the zenith of flesh, the bulldoze batch of dung bulged out past the precipice of his pucker, and the brass slag erupted in a sluggish heave out from the brim and elongated its way out of the fowl's foul funnel in a tower of turgid tar -Crurktwlporuughghsach. The brim ripples against the texture of the mound. Flesh gliding across the bowel lubed surface and dipping down in the cracks and crevices formed along the side, scraping up against clogs of packed up bone plastered onto the pillar to break the uniform guise of the brown mound in patches of bowel bleached calcium… Shoulder blades and ribs embedded in the flanks of the bowel fudge left for the pucker to cling onto, digging through the softer mulch in its surroundings and lodging the mound stuck in Gareth's hind -Chhrrlpght-. 
	“Gmmgnghs, such an ass pain to have tosuck up to those courts, but least we gots an understanding, there is no need fuzzin over fertilizer, and I'd say ya'd be of the same mind was us on that now, aren't mfmspgaya, dirtbag?” He wheezed out in a chucle.
	The griffon's brim snapped back over a troublesome scapula wedged out the side, the triangle of cartilage forming an ocher tinted dorsal fin on the length elongating through Gareth's hind, to bundle up for a swim in the bowl below -Chhvlrlpth- -Cghrrllpcrrlslptgff-. The mound stacked over itself, curling bales of manure bunching and melding their tepid textures together in a tapestry of turgid trenches. Thick coils smacking into dunes of dung building up under Gareth's workhorse of a flank. The gunk weighted itself down under the surface of the water in the porcelain bowl, leaning a streak of umber against the ceramics where bales were buried in dunes of in its surrounding muck creaming its way out through the Warden's personal sewers. 
	Gareth sat back, talons tracing down the diminishing bulb of an abdomen he was sporting, feeling the mass of the travelling prison make one last journey through his bowels -Chhvrhhglsh- “Haa, doesn't matter how stubborn of a primate pussy ya are, my ass's passed criminals the like you'd never see. MMmggsh, slow as the sytem can be, can't argue with mfspgps, results. You've taken to well enough to the processing, even if ya remain a pain in my ass.” Gareth grunted out and shuddered as another flutter of fumes filtered through the stuffed bowels and pumped past the pucker in a barrage of bubbles -Bbrpplglwprlpggoalgpsha- “Phee, yeah I tend to agree, you lot stink somethin' fierce,” Gareth mused and spread his wings to fan off the fog. 


The rolling bales of manure petered out, clumps jammed with shards of broken skeletal tissue pinched off of the Warden's pucker to tumble and lodged stuck in the bales below -Cllptwhhg-. The brim still undulating after having been put through a real workout –  it was stuck in a partial gape even as the aperture of flesh pinched down around the mulch. 
	“Fmpg hphaa… anything left back there?” Gareth teased. 
	-Fbrprppfht-.
	“Yeah, bought what I expected out of ya.” Gareth smirked and wiped his brim clean with a few tugs of toiletpapper – swabbing any remnants of the human from his hind. The crumbled up roll left to drift down on the mound, mattered in the khaki auburn hue of the greasy bowel juices bleeding into the pulped wood fibers. 
	Gareth's cheeks left the cool comfort of the seat, to be brushed with the oozing air of radiating heat wafting up from the stack of dung below. He shot glance back at into the bowl, seeing the sodden waste of gunk melding together, interspersed with dull, partially molten shards of embedded bones screws across the rubbish. He sampled the retch of festering botched mushroom stew emanating from the bowl. 
	“And that puts a wrap on it, yer clocking out of solitary confinement, but ya got plenty a company in your next cell: always some rascals that would do to being added to that sewage tank.” Gareth scoffed and folded back his wings, kicking at the back of the seat for the lid to clatter shut -Cllrrplrrtch- and a twist of his tail operating the lever to flush the traces of their otherworldly inmate off to the Manehattan penitentiary’s drain -Frhglllllsossotpsgh-. The piping swallowed the clattering slag of muck. Gareth took a breath of relief, that ended with a mildly inconvenienced sigh.
	“Huurrgh, but I still gotta fill out yer paperwork, had ta resist just one more time for the road, and keeping me from clocking out early somehow, didn't cha?” He scoffed and returned to his office to the tune of the clean water refilling the empty receptor -Fhrllsssssswhhg-.