He unfurled a long, clawed fingernail and explored the depths of his nostril with it. He poked and prodded, scratched and scraped, and eventually withdrew a brownish-greenish snot oyster. It sat impaled upon his claw, sweating in the early evening heat. He examined his find with an expert eye, taking in the layers of ooze, the flecks of blood, the uneven crust. He admired it triumphantly, savouring the anticipation, before popping his snack into his mouth with a flourish. He rolled the snotball around his mouth, enjoying the sensation as the flavours melted into his tongue, a salty tang here, an acrid tinge there. His lips smacked as he revelled in the change of textures, from slimy to crispy to chewy and back again. He swallowed, ecstatically, yet reluctantly. He didn’t know when his nose would produce something so exquisite again.
As the snot slid down his gullet, he closed his eyes, relaxed his anus and let out a gigantic, ear-splitting fart. He breathed deeply, inhaling the rich, beefy aroma that engulfed him. Beautiful. Then he thrust his hand down the crotch of his trousers and adjusted his genitals before taking a sneaky sniff of his fingers. All this done, he was finally ready to work.
The couple in front of him were cowering behind their menus. "Are you ready to order?" he asked.
This story was written by David Cook, whose stories have been published in a number of places, online and in print. He lives in Bridgend, Wales, UK, wife his wife and daughter. None of the behaviour in this story could ever be attributable to him, promise. You can find more of his work at www.davewritesfiction.wordpress.com, and he's on Twitter at www.twitter.com/davidcook100.