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You suddenly wake up in a cold sweat, remembering all too clearly the terrifying nightmare you had been having. You grab the towel off the bedstand and start to wipe the wetness out of your pelt. You check yourself over, just to make sure you're still in one piece. Your canine structure is pretty impressive, to a degree, sharp fangs and claws, a nice bushy tail, mysterious golden eyes, etc. Now if you could only do something about your weight. You're not fat, just sort of chubby. You have to admit you have put on a little weight since you moved into the castle a few weeks ago, mostly due to the number of snacks you go through. The electricity still isn't up in this place, so there isn't much to do except read and eat. It has obviously taken its toll. You keep thinking back to your dream, becoming a huge, bloated, shaggy blimp, who in the end is destroyed by his own appetite. You causually reach into the box of sugar frosted donuts and quickly polish it off. As you sit down on the bed again, you feel the back of your p.j.'s split down the back. You groan, then pick up the empty box and toss it casually into the wastebasket across the room. "That's it," you declare, "Diet time"

Written by Jack (edited by wanderer)

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