You know, I've been trying to find a story to tell you that felt new. One that was unique, that wouldn't be like any of the others. Then, while I was thinking that, I thought something else; does it truly matter? There are going to be stories that are like the others, so why try and space them out and ignore the ones already happening around me?

And it was with that thought that I decided, unequivocally, that I was going to throw my former plans out the window like an Exes laundry and just go with it! So, without further ado, let’s go into the Ponyville... what the devil was the name of that restaurant Twilight went with the Crusaders? Oh, who cares--the point is, Rainbow Dash and the rest of the Wonderbolts were currently waiting for their order of Hayburgers to be delivered to their table.

"I'm telling you guys, this place is awesome!" Explained Rainbow Dash, newest member of the Wonderbolts and my personal favorite. "Best burgers in town, you'll see."

"That's the third time you've told us that, Crash." Spitfire replied. "I think we get it."

Rainbow, laughing an awkward laugh, looked behind her to see if their food was ready. She knew she was repeating herself, but even though she was now a member of the aerial squad of pegasi, she still had a serious case of hero worship going on. If you've ever had a hero I'm sure you can imagine yourself in her shoes, if not... well, I suppose we're the unlucky ones, aren't we?

"Yeah, don't worry so much Crash. It can't be any worse than last month when Fleetfoot took us to that bland restaurant in Canterlot." Ah Soarin. He had a heart the size of his appetite, but that didn't change the fact that he was kind of a loser. I'm not saying that to be mean, personally I kind of like the stallion, but when your team lies to you and tries to replace you with a prismatic maned speed-addict during trials how else are we supposed to view him?

"It had a three hoof rating!" Defended Fleetfoot, "How was I supposed to know it wasn't going to taste like anything?" Fun fact; Fleetfoot has a thing for Big McIntosh. Not relevant to the story, but something to think about all the same.

What was relevant, however, was what was going on in the kitchen. While the Wonderbolts chatted amicably in the restaurant proper, events of a much more traumatic nature were taking place behind closed doors. It was of no fault to the cooks; how were they supposed to know the buns they grabbed happened to be the ones with tiny, hungry people on them?

There were twenty-eight in all, and despite living in a kitchen this collection of people had no way of easily obtaining food. There was never a time when the kitchen wasn't busy, meaning the humans had to take chances--had to do things many would view as completely insane just to survive.

There were more here, you know, back when Humanity had arrived in Equestria. Some were washed away when the ponies cleaned, some were stepped on, but most of them ended up in the same position as our current cast; in the food. It was one of those insane risks for survival I mentioned; risking being eaten so they themselves could eat--a tragic state of affairs really, but let’s look on the bright side! Their lives, as we can all agree on, pretty much suck--okay, you know what? What I was going to say isn't going to make things sound better, so let’s just move on, shall we?

Peanuts! I forgot to pause the story for the exposition--we've missed... oh, the plates were just placed on the table. We haven't really missed anything.

Wonderful.

The quadruple pegasi wasted no time in enjoying their meals; especially Soarin, who might as well have shoved the entire burger into his mouth and swallowed it whole for all the chewing he did. Rainbow Dash, not used to the stallion's voracious appetite, was a strange mix of amazed and disgusted at the display. The humans on his food, however, lacked the chance to feel anything but horror as one minute they were on a rather amazing smelling hayburger, screaming in terror at what they knew was coming, and the next they were tossed inside the humid, salivating maw of Soarin as he viciously and mercilessly masticated the meal and sent it down his gullet into the empty belly below.

Hm... I don't know, I feel like there should be more depth to that description. It's not every day you get eaten by a celebrity, and an alien one at that! Let’s see things from the human's perspective, shall we? Starting with this batch right here...

They didn't know what was going on--okay, that was a lie, but they didn't want to believe it. The Stallion's mouth was as relentless as it was merciless; waves of saliva slammed into the humans, absolutely drenching them before the giant slug-like tongue tossed the freshly bitten chunk--people and all--to the side of his mouth to chew. Those who managed to either avoid or escape the hayburger, if they had the light to see what was happening, would have screamed in righteous horror. They were already screaming, mind you, but it would have intensified immensely.

Even if it did intensify, though, the sounds of Soarin eating would have drowned it out completely. Wet, sloshing, slapping sounds overwhelmed every other noise besides the unintelligibly explosive "nom nom nom" noises the stallion made as he chewed. Many, if not all, of the people still alive in his mouth made a brief effort to move, but between the movement of his jaw and the constant flailing of his tongue, and the mass quantities of spit that filled his mouth like an ocean all they could do was swim, and even that was borderline impossible.

And to think, all this happened in the span of three chews. As I said before, Soarin might as well have swallowed the burger whole; the mushy clump of hay, bread, tomato, and various other condiments were swiftly pulled to the back of Soarin's throat, and with an audible 'gulp' he sent it, a wash of saliva, and the majority of the humans that weren't chewed up down his esophagus to be processed for whatever minuscule amount of nutrients they could provide.

The other people weren't fairing much better with the Mares; for instance, Spitfire was much more deliberate as she ate. Is that the right word? Well, in this particular scenario, the word meant she savored her meal more than Soarin--which for the humans, meant it was a slower process. One bite after another, the humans were forced to watch as the giant, yellow wall of her muzzle chomped down on their landscape--taking it, and their friends, into the hungry mouth beyond.

Spitfire's mouth was not a deluge of spit like Soarin's, but that didn't mean it was any safer. As I had mentioned, she savored her meal, and her tongue proved much more dexterous than the former's did. With each bite, the people caught in her mouth were swished back and forth by the thrashing pink organ, and as a result fewer managed to avoid the gruesome fate of her molars. Those that did would find themselves and pressed into the roof of her mouth by the muscle as the mare's saliva forced its way into the mushy mass--and all those alive within it--before being quickly sucked out to gather all the flavors. Did you know at that size humans didn't have much of a flavor? That's right; even though they were forced to suffer through this process, Spitfire gained nothing from their unfortunate addition as seasoning. It was as if they weren't even there at all.

Like before, the mashed up hayburger and all those within it were collected on the center of the pony's tongue, and just like before it was sent down into the depths of her belly to be digested. Those that managed to avoid being swallowed only had a few seconds to celebrate as light flooded into Spitfire's mouth, briefly illuminating the glistening pink surroundings and stands of saliva that stretched from tongue to roof, before she took another bite of her hayburger and once more repeated the process.

Fleetfoot's eating habits hardly differed from Spitfire's, but much to my own personal disgust she was a pony who chewed with her mouth open, something she shared with Soarin, though for some reason I forgot to mention it. Ugh... its a revolting habit, really, one I recommend anyone reading this to break. Its loud, gross, and ruins an otherwise pleasant meal for others. if you don't chew with your mouth open, than don't worry about it; you're already a master of dining etiquette, so go ahead and give yourself a pat on the back--I'll wait.

Done? Well, Fleetfoot wasn't; one bite after the next she sent people into the watery cavern of teeth and muscle, oblivious of the absolute hell that her and her companions were causing just by doing something as crucial to their own survival as eating lunch. Those in the arctic colored mare's mouth were, in a way, safer from her molars than the others for the simple fact that the pegasus kept her food on the left side of her mouth, leaving those who avoided being stuck in the hayburger relatively safe from the terrifying chomping of her teeth.

The most nightmarish aspect could be found a few sentences back; Fleetfoot chewed with her mouth open, which meant the people inside were constantly subjected to the sights within said mouth by the flashes of light that funneled through with each movement of her jaw. They saw the moving mass that was her tongue as it swept up loose bits of food and brought them back to the clump for further crushing. They were able to scream at the approaching tsunamis of saliva that rushed towards them, instead of being caught off-guard in the dark, and were actually able to watch in abject horror as their friends were caught in floods of spit and bits of food. The ones that were sent into the chewed mass, well... its a good thing they wouldn't suffer the trauma of seeing what happened, I suppose.

Those in Fleetfoot's food were swallowed in a different matter than those with the other ponies, however, in that they were caught in a flood of soda as she opted to wash her meal down with a drink as opposed to swallowing it by itself. By the time she got to her next bite, anyone who wasn't crushed by her teeth had been washed away into her waiting stomach.

Finally, that leaves us with Rainbow Dash. Phew, you have no idea how difficult it is to detail so many different ponies’ mouths in one sitting, while still trying to describe how different each one is from the last! The humans were too small to notice the subtle things like how Spitfire's tongue was more curved than Fleetfoot's, or how Soarin had two more teeth than both of them, and a filling from when he was a colt. I think I managed relatively well given what I was working with.

Now, Rainbow was still a bit shocked at seeing Soarin absolutely devour his meal, and as such the people on her burger had a bit more time to try and escape. They ran past sesame seeds the size of hills, over a landscape that was not only uneven, but bore canyons in them that swallowed up more than a few people. Those canyons were just wrinkles, naturally, but they were unavoidable obstacles when you're smaller than a gnat. Gnat--what an ugly word.

Those lucky enough to be near an edge jumped, but it was a short fall before they landed on either the outskirts of the hay-patty--which for many lead between the hay--or in the thick, viscous surface of the condiments. Might as well have tried to jump into tar, for all the good landing in ketchup did them.

By the time she wrapped her hooves around her food, just about all the people on top of it somehow managed to find themselves in a worse position than they were when they started. The prismatic maned mare took her first bite of her burger, and immediately "mmmmed" in contentment before telling everypony at the table that she 'told them so'--all while still chewing her meal. By the way, talking with your mouth full is also a bad habit, so you should stop that too.

What amounted to an unintelligible noise of delight and a few words to Rainbow was so much worse for the poor souls in her cavernous maw. Her raspy voice boomed and echoed all around them; her tongue flicked, flailed, and pulsated beneath them, scattering them inside her mouth as if they were loaded into a living catapult. Her mouth, without a doubt, was the most chaotic; a few people were sent flying from the humid depths of her muzzle as she spoke, some landing back on the burger to undergo the horror once more, while others simply kept falling.

Some humans fell back into the growing sea of spit that was collecting in her mouth, some were stuck in a waterfall of drool that dribbled from her maw as she spoke. They were promptly crushed, smeared, and mixed with the liquid as a cerulean fetlock wiped the offending fluid from her jaw.

For the rest who remained in her mouth unchewed, they would soon be pulled to the back of Rainbow's throat and sent on a one way trick down her gullet. Much like Soarin, Rainbow didn't chew much of her food, and so the vast majority of people in her mouth would get to experience her belly first hand.

This process repeated itself for about ten more minutes, with the only difference being that everyone else, regardless of how full their mouths were, joined in on the conversations.

Now, inside their stomachs was a completely different kind of experience, one that I'm afraid I simply won't be able detail via each individual pony like I did while they ate.

Regardless of whose gut you looked into, there was nothing really to distinguish who was who. Each one was a pit of gastric acids absolutely flooded with carbonated beverages and mashed up hayburger. To those who survived the trip down, the sphincter leading from the esophagus to the stomach deposited them into this growing foulness. Those who were smashed into the gooey mess of food when swallowed had no chance to avoid the acids as they began their intended function of digestion, while those who weren't caught were subjected not only to the erosive fluids, but the environment as well.

The hellacious depths of each ponies stomach was something no person could truly explain. The stuffy, acrid fumes that impregnated the air was an assault to the lungs; it was like vomit, burps, hay, and ketchup swirled into one, grim odor. The only noises were the gurgling and churning of the organ accompanies by the hissing of soda and the beating of their hearts in some mock soundtrack to the humans' demise.

This was all combined with the boiling, humid heat that pumped from every surface like the acid that flooded the chamber, and even for the few who managed to find purchase on the digesting clumps floating in the bog like islands, the contractions and movements of the muscle surrounding them and the waves of acid caused by falling food quickly sent them back into the seething oceans to be processed like any other meal.

In short, being swallowed alive--even by a herbivore--is a horrible experience. Luckily, it wasn't one that needed to be endured for long.

The Wonderbolts, meals digesting away in their bellies, talked amicably about this subject and that. Soarin patted his stuffed belly in content, while Spitfire and Fleetfoot finished their drinks. Rainbow Dash suppressed a silent burp that actually managed to send a few people stuck in her throat back up to her tongue, for what little good it did them, and for a few minutes the pegasi just relaxed.

Not a single one of them could even imagine the scope of what that meal just did. I mean sure, in a universal scale what transpired was so insignificant that it wouldn't even be a blip on the "things to care about" scale, but I'm sure the ponies would be horrified regardless. In fact, even as I tell you this there are at least six people stuck in the Rainbow's and Soarin's throats alongside any bits of food that didn't quite make it all the way down, including the people Rainbow burped up.

"Well, I better get going." Said Rainbow. "i promised I'd help a friend with something, so I'll see you guys later."

As she exchanged farewells, Rainbow noticed she still had a bit of ketchup on her hoof. Not one to waste, she promptly lapped it--and the terrified people stuck in it--up and trotted out the door. Those who were still alive inside of her had the most indescribable experience as they were sent hurtling into whatever slimy surface happened to catch them as Rainbow Dash flew off into the horizon at speeds that--let’s face it--they probably weren't going to survive.

And I think the lesson here, dear readers, is... what is the lesson? Don't eat out with friends? Always wait an hour after eating before flying? Oh, I got it!

The lesson here, is that sometimes you don't always know what's in your food, so its best you don't think about it. Heh, 'don't think about it'. Appropriate.

Author's Note

Request by Star Sage.

An Author's Note; the risk in requesting things is that I might not do what you want with it. What you hope for and what you get might be completely different, and if that's the case just give me a polite heads up and I'll remove your name from the Author's Notes as soon as I'm able. If you want me too, anyway.

Thank you.