I grip my stump, hoping this girl will just eat it. She still has time. The ass goblin inspecting our row moves slow and looks incredibly drunk. She needs to stop crying and stay strong. She doesn’t understand. I would yell at her, but I am not the type who sacrifices his own hide for strangers. No heroics here.

The ass goblin reaches the girl and hoots loud enough for everyone—ass goblins and children alike—to fall silent and watch. The hoot of an ass goblin sounds very similar to a trumpet, an instrument I used to play. When an ass goblin hoots, you know Shit Slaughter is coming. Apparently, this girl never caught on. She shoves the meat into her mouth. Her cheeks balloon out. The goblin scratches its ass and punches her in the throat. The meat flies across the bathroom, splattering across a boy’s face. The girl wheezes and gags. The ass goblin hoots a third time, jaws widening so far apart they unlock and fold over its head . . . row after row of rotten teeth.

“Shit! Slaughter! Shit! Slaughter! Shit! Slaughter!” the ass goblins chant.

The goblin picks the girl up by the throat. Her face turns blue. Vomit dribbles down her chin as the goblin takes her in both hands, turns her upside down, and shoves her up his own ass.

He jiggles from side to side and waves both sets of claws in the air. Egg-smelling steam burbles from his mouth. The ass goblins stop chanting. The big moment is almost here. A swastika made from the little girl blasts out of the goblin’s head, flinging shit as it spins around the bathroom and bounces off the walls. The goblin in Shit Slaughter mode bumbles after the swastika. After a pursuit that makes my head spin, its head of teeth snaps shut around the former girl, grinding her up. The ass goblin’s head returns to normal.

Dinnertime is over