<div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v252/HlySd/HotMenChart_Michael_Churchill_11-1-1-1.jpg)</div><strong>Name/Alias</strong>: John Aaron / Ares<br/><strong>Origin</strong>: Olympus<br/><strong>Location</strong>: Kitchen<br/><strong>Tagged</strong>: Carol<br/><hr/><br/>The burger was inserted into his mouth, and John tore a quarter of meat, bun, and cheese free. His right cheek was plump as though he had a baseball shoved into it and he was feeding fries into his other cheek, until both cheeks were swollen with food. He eased his head back, grinding it all down until his throat expanded and sank, the muscles of his neck and esophagus forcing it all down into his stomach. They had quite a motley banquet on their table: a steaming pepperoni pizza, a plateful of burgers, and basket of fries. Jarvis was at the stove preparing more.<br/><br/>John returned to the burger, pressing it to his face as he ground away at it until it was gone. His cheeks were inflated again and he was popping open a can of Mountain Dew to wash it down with.<br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;"><em>Slrrrp!</em></span></span><br/><br/>"Aaah," John gasped in satisfaction before he openly belched, the gas roaring from his throat and ringing throughout the kitchen and vibrating some loose glasses, drying in the dish rack until they popped. With a proud grin, John announced to Carol and Jarvis, "Behold! The bellow of a god!" Before he broke into laughter (probably the only one that thought it was humorous). His expression then became stern as he picked up the empty basket of fries and fanned it at the butler.<br/><br/>"Old Man! More straws!" he demanded. He hadn't known what they were called, but they tasted like potatoes, were crispy, and salty. They didn't look like potatoes and were gold like straw, thus straws was their name.