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Mint Miltank Chip Ice Cream - 1/4
Why did Pheagle keep doing this to himself?
You’d think, after years upon years of his highly unstable DNA causing so much property damage, ruining so many outfits, and triggering so many awkward situations, that the man would eventually stop tempting fate.
But Pheagle didn’t become a wide receiver for the Philadelphia Eagles through nepotism, bribery, or even dumb luck. No, he earned that position through his hard work and determination, for Pheagle was a daring and persistent man. If he wanted something, he was going to try everything and anything in his frequently fluctuating power to get it, even if it would go against every standard of logic and caution.
Which was why, even after trying one of their discounted products resulted in him bulging and bursting into a hulking Holstein, and wrecked his deck chair in the process, Pheagle was right back in palm of his favorite ice cream franchise, ‘Super Swell Sweeties.’ In fact, not only was he back to try more of their stock, but he had gone the extra mile to visit one of their brand-new parlors that had recently opened in town, so that he could have a taste of their very best, from the very heart of their business.
Curiously, when he had entered, Pheagle appeared to be the only person present, or at least the only customer, as the parlor was almost completely empty, save for a brightly-smiling clerk working the register. Strange, but Pheagle just assumed it was because this was a new building that had yet to get press, especially since Super Swell was a relatively obscure confectionary company. So, he made no comment on it, and returned the polite greeting the cashier had given him, before glancing up at the menu’s options.
Their selection was relatively limited, probably because of the building’s age and size, leaving Pheagle with only four options to choose from, displayed in four large posters behind the counter.
From the furthest right, there was ‘Braviberry,’ an almost nightmarish-looking homage to the Star-Spangled Banner, using all sorts of vibrant blue and red berries, sauces, and colored, frozen cream. The flavor looked so aggressively American. Even the name above the artwork was being squeezed in the clutch of a thick, meaty, avian talon, its claws pressing into the letters. Very tempting, but not today.
Next to that was ‘Lycanrocky Road,’ a far icier-looking treat with dark, verdant chocolate sauce oozing out from the topmost layer of pale white frosting, as if it was a proud, towering mountaintop caught in the perfect glow of the bright, full moon. Thoughts of growing and bursting out of his outfit into a hulking werewolf to howl at that metaphorical moon briefly flashed in Pheagle’s head, but he decided against it…begrudgingly.
On the far left, to Pheagle’s pleasant surprise, was ‘Chocowlate Marshmoolow,’ the very culprit of his deck chair’s murder. Here, in cone form, it looked almost more appealing than it did to him in cup form, with a sizable mound of chocolate flavoring, coated in a thick layer of even more chocolate sauce, all topped off with numerous, plush marshmallows, per the namesake. Pheagle smirked at the sight, as despite the little hiccup its discounted incarnation had caused him, he still considered it his favorite, and part of him was thoroughly tempted to try it again, even if it would result in the exact same bloating and mutating of flesh from homo-sapien to…whatever the evolutionary name for cows was.
But no, not today. Today, Pheagle was in the mood for some mint.
And to his luck, right between the Chocowlate Marshmoolow and Lycanrocky Road, the parlor sported a mint flavor: ‘Mint Miltank Chip,’ a relatively similar-looking item to Chocowlate, just with a dazzling garnish of vibrant pink sauce, with a similar mixing of pink mint flavor, and even tiny little horns made from sculpted white chocolate.
Perfection.
Pheagle politely purchased the ice cream with little further thought, patiently waiting until the cone was complete, and sat himself down at one of the barstools at the counter to enjoy it. Curiously, once their job was done, the employee stepped away to head into a locked staff room, and Pheagle could almost swear that their footsteps sounded off, as if their shoes were more fleshy than solid, but he thought nothing of it, and just decided to start enjoying his purchase.
And it was good, very good, in fact. Part of the reason he enjoyed Super Swell’s stuff was because they had such a rich, lovely flavor to their recipes, and the Mint Miltank Chip was possibly some of the best mint ice cream he had ever tasted in his life. It was creamy, sweet, and surprisingly, very filling.
Gurrrrgle….
Crrrnn…
Very, very, very filling.
Suddenly, Pheagle had a brief pang of fear, one that he might end up overburdening himself with calories, a fear so bad that it felt like his clothes were getting a little snug on him. His socks in particular felt super uncomfortable, and his shoes felt almost like they were pinching him, but even as a dull pain slowly crept across the top of his skull, Pheagle paid it no mind. This ice cream was just too good, and he wanted to fully savor every, last, drop of-
Pop!
….what was that noise?
Pheagle visits a mysterious ice cream parlor to snack on a new flavor of theirs, only to find himself transforming yet again!
Art sequence drawn by
JazzaX
Accompanying story written by
caelanj13
"Chocowlate Marshmoolow" refers to a comic I got earlier this year from
MiltonHolmes
Original
<<< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >>>
You’d think, after years upon years of his highly unstable DNA causing so much property damage, ruining so many outfits, and triggering so many awkward situations, that the man would eventually stop tempting fate.
But Pheagle didn’t become a wide receiver for the Philadelphia Eagles through nepotism, bribery, or even dumb luck. No, he earned that position through his hard work and determination, for Pheagle was a daring and persistent man. If he wanted something, he was going to try everything and anything in his frequently fluctuating power to get it, even if it would go against every standard of logic and caution.
Which was why, even after trying one of their discounted products resulted in him bulging and bursting into a hulking Holstein, and wrecked his deck chair in the process, Pheagle was right back in palm of his favorite ice cream franchise, ‘Super Swell Sweeties.’ In fact, not only was he back to try more of their stock, but he had gone the extra mile to visit one of their brand-new parlors that had recently opened in town, so that he could have a taste of their very best, from the very heart of their business.
Curiously, when he had entered, Pheagle appeared to be the only person present, or at least the only customer, as the parlor was almost completely empty, save for a brightly-smiling clerk working the register. Strange, but Pheagle just assumed it was because this was a new building that had yet to get press, especially since Super Swell was a relatively obscure confectionary company. So, he made no comment on it, and returned the polite greeting the cashier had given him, before glancing up at the menu’s options.
Their selection was relatively limited, probably because of the building’s age and size, leaving Pheagle with only four options to choose from, displayed in four large posters behind the counter.
From the furthest right, there was ‘Braviberry,’ an almost nightmarish-looking homage to the Star-Spangled Banner, using all sorts of vibrant blue and red berries, sauces, and colored, frozen cream. The flavor looked so aggressively American. Even the name above the artwork was being squeezed in the clutch of a thick, meaty, avian talon, its claws pressing into the letters. Very tempting, but not today.
Next to that was ‘Lycanrocky Road,’ a far icier-looking treat with dark, verdant chocolate sauce oozing out from the topmost layer of pale white frosting, as if it was a proud, towering mountaintop caught in the perfect glow of the bright, full moon. Thoughts of growing and bursting out of his outfit into a hulking werewolf to howl at that metaphorical moon briefly flashed in Pheagle’s head, but he decided against it…begrudgingly.
On the far left, to Pheagle’s pleasant surprise, was ‘Chocowlate Marshmoolow,’ the very culprit of his deck chair’s murder. Here, in cone form, it looked almost more appealing than it did to him in cup form, with a sizable mound of chocolate flavoring, coated in a thick layer of even more chocolate sauce, all topped off with numerous, plush marshmallows, per the namesake. Pheagle smirked at the sight, as despite the little hiccup its discounted incarnation had caused him, he still considered it his favorite, and part of him was thoroughly tempted to try it again, even if it would result in the exact same bloating and mutating of flesh from homo-sapien to…whatever the evolutionary name for cows was.
But no, not today. Today, Pheagle was in the mood for some mint.
And to his luck, right between the Chocowlate Marshmoolow and Lycanrocky Road, the parlor sported a mint flavor: ‘Mint Miltank Chip,’ a relatively similar-looking item to Chocowlate, just with a dazzling garnish of vibrant pink sauce, with a similar mixing of pink mint flavor, and even tiny little horns made from sculpted white chocolate.
Perfection.
Pheagle politely purchased the ice cream with little further thought, patiently waiting until the cone was complete, and sat himself down at one of the barstools at the counter to enjoy it. Curiously, once their job was done, the employee stepped away to head into a locked staff room, and Pheagle could almost swear that their footsteps sounded off, as if their shoes were more fleshy than solid, but he thought nothing of it, and just decided to start enjoying his purchase.
And it was good, very good, in fact. Part of the reason he enjoyed Super Swell’s stuff was because they had such a rich, lovely flavor to their recipes, and the Mint Miltank Chip was possibly some of the best mint ice cream he had ever tasted in his life. It was creamy, sweet, and surprisingly, very filling.
Gurrrrgle….
Crrrnn…
Very, very, very filling.
Suddenly, Pheagle had a brief pang of fear, one that he might end up overburdening himself with calories, a fear so bad that it felt like his clothes were getting a little snug on him. His socks in particular felt super uncomfortable, and his shoes felt almost like they were pinching him, but even as a dull pain slowly crept across the top of his skull, Pheagle paid it no mind. This ice cream was just too good, and he wanted to fully savor every, last, drop of-
Pop!
….what was that noise?
Pheagle visits a mysterious ice cream parlor to snack on a new flavor of theirs, only to find himself transforming yet again!
Art sequence drawn by
JazzaXAccompanying story written by
caelanj13"Chocowlate Marshmoolow" refers to a comic I got earlier this year from
MiltonHolmesOriginal
<<< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >>>
Category Artwork (Digital) / Transformation
Species Pokemon
Size 2048 x 1352px
File Size 2.14 MB
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