Game 2Game 2 Outline| Game 2 |
Game 2 Outline |
As you sleep you dream. You see yourself with Albert and Fred, them having finally come to save you. You are thin again and everything is fine once more. Everything is as it should be and you sit around a table laughing at the events.
"That was touch and go for a while there," says Albert.
"Glad to have you back to your old self." says Fred
"Yeah, I never thought I'd see my toes again," you say.
Rick comes out, dressed in a waiters uniform, putting some plates on the table. He has shrunk back down, but looks content.
"Glad you came back to your senses as well," says Albert.
Rick nods and puts a salad bowl on the table, serving it to each of you in turn.
"Although," says Fred, "To be honest, you look good with a couple pounds on you."
"What?" you say, not sure you heard that right.
"You know, you carry the weight well," says Albert, "You've gotten used to it and it seems second nature now."
"But I'm normal now," you say, confused.
"Well, you could stand to gain a few more pounds," says Fred, "Albert was saying that you'll lose the modeling career if you don't hit your next weight goal soon.
"Yeah, at 340, your not going to be impressing any ladies." says Albert, "Here, load up," he says, putting legs of fried chicken on your plate.
You look down at your body, your stomach in your lap. "Well, I guess so," you say, not wanting to disappoint your fans, "But I thought you wanted me to lose weight," you say taking bites of chicken and donuts."
"Why would I want that?" says Albert, feeding you another piece of cake, "sure I'm jealous, you can pack on so much weight and look that good, but 800 lbs is just the beginning for you now that your career has shot off."
You munch on the cake, putting another donut in your maw. "Well, it's not easy keeping this fueled," you slap your stomach, which wobbles as it hangs off the chair, "Rick, can I get a few more cases?"
Rick walks forward, huge once more with a case full of heavy cream bottle, opening one and handing it too you, which you begin chugging. "Come on, you gotta beat the world record this time," says Albert," as you drink.
"Chug, chug, chug, chug..." chant Albert and Fred along with a crowd of women, cheering you on as you sit on a throne, and Albert pours bottle after bottle of cream into the funnel you drink from. Your sides hang off the sides, legs eclipsed by your stomach as you finish the last bottle, and everyone cheers. Reporters take your picture, and you see magazines with 'Biggest model' on the cover.
"And to think you wanted to be 'normal'" says Albert, patting your huge stomach.
"Yeah," you say, as you waddle slowly, admiring your reflections in the mirrors reflecting rotund body as people cheer you. "I always say bigger is..."
You stop...
Wait...
'bigger is better' 'love your bigger self' 'eat more' 'model of the year, biggest by far'
You hear it, then wake with a start, snorting as you hear words in your ears, and grasp at them to find headphones. You tear them off, and see Rick standing over you. Wakey, wakey, you choose a strange place to sleep. You rub the sleep from your eyes, unsure of how long you were out.
"Hey, how about a nice, big breakfast?" asks Rick, "I have all your favorites."
You get up still groggy from the rude awakening. Rick helps you down the ladder and the stairs to the kitchen, where eggs and bacon are piled. Your stomach growls, and you begin eating, shoveling in eggs and bacon, wanting to reach your next weight goal, your fans will be wanting to...
Your eyes go wide, and you push back so hard your chair falls backwards. "GAH, NO..." you say, as the chair beaks under your weight and your flabby back hits the floor. You drag yourself back, your body wobbling. All the exercise has helped you remain mobile, but your size is still makes things difficult.
"What's the matter," says Rick, "You've always loved my breakfast, did I leave out too much lard?"
"N...no, you're lying," you say, not sure if this is a dream or reality. It's getting hard to keep track. You roll onto your stomach, and push yourself up, your knees groaning, feeling your rump brushing your calves, and your stomach resting on your feet. "Your... brainwashing me," you say. "Am I? did you have a nightmare again?" he says "You know, a little TV and snacks always helps you feel better after that."
You hold your head, confused. "Just sit down, I'll get you something." he says, and you make your way to the couch, flopping back. Your arms lay horizontal of rolls of your chest, and you try to piece together your fractured memories. You are... a model? No, you were... you were thin? No, your clearly not. Camera... something about a camera. Albert?
Rick puts a tray of waffles and a glass of water by your side, and turns on the TV, and your stomach grumbles.
Written by an anonymous author
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