He stared at the screen. The screen returned the gesture with a vibrant glow.
Tick-tick-tick, his fingers punched the keys. A quick head shake, and the word vanished with a backspace tick-tick-tick.
The screen glared. The man narrowed his eyes.
It was time, now or never, a whole array of overused idioms and limp metaphors. The man grasped his jaw in one hand and shifted it back and forth. The bone came loose with a muted pop. Unhinged, his mandible dropped open like the entrance to Wind Cave.
He started with the mouse, sucking down the cable like a wispy bit of pasta. The keyboard came next, a test run to see if the larger bits might fit. Tick-tick-tick a few keys dragged across his teeth was they slid into his throat--which, as it happened, expanded like a rubber balloon to accommodate the awkward snack. The speakers popped in, one-two, and the man sat back and took a deep breath.
The monitor would come last, he decided. With his fingers, he stretched his lips over the CPU tower, forcing it in in with a few, quick taps. The cords, cables, and other loose paraphernalia rocketed down his widened esophagus.
The monitor didn't glare anymore. The man left it, alone, screen blank and muddy, on the desktop. He had won.