evidencing clogged organic plumbing, (from too much processed flour) Pellet set out for his dream host. He flew down the street and around the corner, to a side building next to the arena. His teenage potential host was lifting weights. Definitely a healthy eater, who didn't emit noxious clouds; five and one half feet, 120 pounds - and not a blemish on her body.
Oh but as typically rotten luck would have it, Rat Turd flew in, and was on her, like stink on ... It was as if Turd was keeping tabs on Pellet, for no better reason than ... because he could. Pellet wanted so badly to just go over there and punch that smirk off Turd's snout. But that wasn't going to happen, better to simply avoid trouble and look elsewhere.
Turd was also relishing his freedom to choose a host, or go look for another. It had been awhile, since he had enjoyed the privilege o possessing a soul that he enjoyed manipulating. His previous assignment was the pick-pocket who had ... no wait, that one died in jail during the Caesar administration. Whatever..! The dullards all melted into one big bore.
Pellet had reason to console himself as her flew away from the arena-complex. Atleast his hosts had mostly been of a higher social caliber than Turd's. And in all fairness - that which Pellet priced himself - Turd had been under unreasonable punishment. Had something to do with a serious quarrel that was fixing to break out between Shem and Japheth. In all fairness, it wasn't Turd's fault that Ham just had to show up with the right tool.
Anyway, it presently looked like Turd's punishment - for something that no way, in the entire universe, he could have stopped - had been lifted. Well, atleast for now. But you never know, not with their king - the father of lies, being changeable as the Galilean Sea.
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