Shrek demands sacrifice. He hands you a maggoty shepherd's pie. You take bite after bite, the odor of the rotting meat filling the room. You struggle with every bite, but you power through with the kind of stoicism only a true Shrek fan could muster.

You decide that this meal isn't disgusting enough, so you squat over, spread your cheeks and lay a nice poo onto the maggoty shepherd's pie.

The look in your eyes is one of penance. You have upset Shrek, and this is your punishment. You continue eating your maggoty shepherd's pie until you vomit onto the plate. Feeling the swish of feces, and maggoty shepherd's pie between your teeth almost drives you to insanity, but you persevere. Shrek demands it.

He asks you to produce a sausage, you do so without hesitation. You always carry around your packet of Richmond's finest frozen sausage for just such an occasion. The sheer heat emanating from Shrek's body due to his rightful anger with your actions is enough to cook them immediately. You use them as a flake. The poo, the dipping sauce.

>crunch
The sausage goes. Covered in your gastrointestinal flora and maggoty shepherd's pie. You ponder every decision in your life that led you to this moment, but you continue.

You finish every bite of the maggoty shepherd's pie, complete with your own dressing, and Richmond's finest sausages, and Shrek looks at you, pleased.

He turns around, opens his bag and pulls out what looks like a baking tray.

>it's another maggoty shepherd's pie