Man fed this great beast berries, as they seemed to sate its unique appetite. Blackberries, at that. His gaping jaw fit scores upon scores of the petite and lumpy fruit. It prayed for salvation and Carnivora, for he had been captured once before, but not under this pretext. He held an effigy of the autumn within his mounds of fur, and as a the team dug into his matted walls, they permeated, slowly, at first, but with increasing virility as the hour passed. Some fourth-five minutes later, following radio silence, the supervisor went in the locker to check on his employees’ progress. Unfortunately, consumed, they all were. That is not to say that they were formless, far from it. The bodies were embossed into the colossus, a carbon copy and mold of these many folks he once knew. “Blast”, he announced. The man hadn’t seen a situation like this since the angels a decade ago. Quaking in his boots, he backed away from the monstrosity, frightened by its gusto and warmth. Warm, indeed, it was. With an internal temperature at triple digits, threefold, its skin burned all organic matter that came in contact with it, save for some experimental carbon fiber prototypes. This issue was faced until the completion and implementation of the project, which deployed thirteen effigies of Spring unto the beast. Fed only a mixture of whey and nought, these spherical entities were humanity’s last stand against the rising enemy. All out warfare. Aftermath? Gallons of green bile flooded the locker, pungent and bitter. The effigies laid disembodied and twisted, all but four. The first of this exception faced the corner, rattled by the experience. The second and third, troopers that they were, sat upon the floor, chilling amongst themselves. The fourth was nowhere to be found until the mouth of the now deceased beast was pried open with an automotive jack, revealing a pre-digested mass of teal-colored powder. With all bodies accounted for, sanitation was imperative. An even coat, about a quarter millimeter thick, of doxycycline was applied as a topical (though hardly tropical) antibiotic, and many a hundred pounds of Lysol followed.
***
Fourth grade was a breeze for the beast, as his work was cut out for him:
Sing!
Dance!
Enrich itself!
Graduate!
This was until the capture of the beast. The captors were unfamiliar, pink-skinned and long, like stickbugs of yore. It had initially expected a catch-and-release type of situation, but as time passed, it realized the permanence of its situation. It responded initially with intellect, but upon reflecting upon the language barrier, was replaced with sexual forwardness. This was not reciprocated by the pink-skinned being, a race that reproduced almost exclusively asexually. This led to violence, which led to alienation. The beast was hungry, and said so (in its own language).
If only the pink creatures would respond accordingly.