Filet mignon, scalloped potatoes, broccoli with almonds, and a glass of fine Merlot.
A still warm rat you just suffocated using your prehensile spine, swallowed whole.
Lots of grass. Oh, who are you kidding, you'll have some more of those fattening oats.
The microbes in your gut appreciate wood pulp, so that's mostly what you eat.
Anything, and I mean anything. Not picky. Seriously. Nails, carrion, floating plastic, bread, you name it.
Millions of microscopic shrimp.
Seven: two arms, two legs, two wings, and a tail.
Four: two arms and two legs.
Six or eight legs only.
Just a tail!
Five: two arms (or wings), two legs, and a tail.
The hundreds of squirming babies crawling around on your back.
Your long, lustrous antennae.
They normally don't, because you are effectively invisible.
Your face, especially your complex, glistening mandibles.
Your friendly attitude. You wanna play? Oh, you want the stick? Go get it! Good boy! Drop it. I said "Drop it!"
You've been known to fling your own shit at others, and that's not to mention the constant humping.
You technically have no brain or skeleton, so that can be a drawback.
You're known for your total indolence during winter, to the point that your heartrate slows to near stopping.
You communicate solely by hissing and rattling maracas.
You are constantly stealing shiny things and burying them while no one's looking
Your mother, no doubt. She raised you for almost a full week before dying of old age.
Yourself, duh. You're not really cognizant of other beings as anything other than objects, so it has to be you.
Whoever's blood this is you're drinking.
Whoever you're humping at the moment, you guess.
This cool guy who's been singing to you from a thousand miles away. At least, you think it's a guy.
You'd be happy to have some, as long as you can con someone else into raising them.
You think they're delicious!
You want to have exactly one after several years of painstakingly trying to attract a mate. How can you be so bad at this? You don't even have any predators!
Sex is gross, but you'd be perfectly happy ripping yourself into two roughly equal parts if that's an option.
There's a really nice woman you know, and you're working up the nerve to bury your face into her flesh so she can use you as a fanny pack full of sperm.
It'd be nice to have a small family, just 4 or so litters of 6 at a time.
Dances with Wolves
Again, you don't have a brain, nor eyes nor ears, so movies aren't really your thing.
A Bug's Life
A giant, bright red ass.
You like them bigger, around 170 tons.
Lustrous fur, healthy-smelling, strong. Or a stuffed animal. That would work, too.
There's only one woman for you. Literally -- the rest of the women you know are infertile.
You like your men hairy. It helps if they smell like rotten salmon.