Bottomless pit supervisor

Welcome to the bottomless pit. It is what I call my stomach. Anything can enter, nothing can leave. When I say anything can enter, I of course mean anything that the supervisor allows. He's a little person, sitting at the back of my throat. Pad Thai, yes. McDonald's, no. Gork, of course. There is no limit to the quantity that can enter the pit, the only specification is that he must accept it. As he oversees the pit of fumes and apple pie, as he looks over with pride at the depths of the thing that he has produced, he wonders at what the next delicacy to be added is.