Blackbeak Bluff Haggis for Algernon

Merlin had been about to puke over the railings of the ship - excuse me - ledge of the cliff, when this line of physiological thought was interrupted by the arrival of a sterling tall beast, who asked about his well-being. Or rather made a very accurate assumption of it. The boy stared at him for a while, thinking that it would be only polite to say something, when the corner's of his mouth began to pull back and his stomach began to retch. He got to his feet, leaned his head down and vomitted unashamedly right by the Prince Charming's feet. Pieces of guts, bone, meat, fur and some other debris of odd form and shape all swam in a pool of sticky yellow gastric juice. 

"Sorry, man," Merlin apologized, stepping away from the mess and licking his lips. "I suggest you do not attempt to eat it," he said, knowing that sometimes one canine was not against scouring the treasures of other canine's stomach contents. "It's as rotten as it looks."