Gloria the chicken-morph was having a good time at the Blind Pig, when she felt something happen inside her. "Excuse me, guys," she said to her companions for the evening, and went into the bathroom.

Squatting on the specially designed seat, she pushed, her eyes closed with the effort. A plop, and her egg was in the toilet. She used the handle of the plunger to crack it, then flushed the toilet. After the water refilled, she flushed it again. She reflected on the changes in her life in the last few weeks. No more feminine hygiene products, no more mess. Interesting that she still only did this once a month. Best of both worlds, she supposed.

She sighed, then for the first time, wondered what an omelette would taste like, made with...

She was shocked and disgusted at her own thought, but again the thought crept into her mind. She ate chicken eggs without thinking what they were, was a human egg all that different?

Emotionally and culturally, of course, the thought was disgusting. She had to wonder though...

Elsewhere...

"Mmm, this is dee-licious!" stated the wide-framed, fat man. "The best doggone omelette I ever tasted. What'd you say it was, LeBeau, dodo egg?"

The proprietor of the small, private Cajun restaurant club nodded. "From de finest dodo dis side of de Big Muddy."

The fat man grinned. "Man oh man, this is some good stuff. I guess there is work for SCABS in the restaurant industry, after all."

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