Chris was squeezed down through the serpent’s stomach and was shat out, thankfully alive, or rather, what ever state of cognizance he had found himself in at the beginning of this journey. But this stage once again appeared even more dire than the last. He now tumbled through space, a dank, musty, fetid air swirling around him and filling his nose and eyes with a thick membrane of death. The Cowboy was able to focus his vision unto a titanic skeleton that would have dwarfed even the previous gargantuan Goddess, just as it noticed him, and deftly plucked him mid air and held him between it’s bony fingers; each distal carpal bone the length of his entire body. He drew his weapons instinctively, but it was for nothing. The bony behemoth took him between both hands and started to pull him apart slowly, savoring ever excruciating second.