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...bad timing.

You swallow the last bit of food from your breakfast, feeling it settle in your stomach. Quite frankly, your starting to feel heavy again. You suppose the meal was a bit much to add on top of that heavy tart, you should begin feeling overweight again. But strangely, it feels a bit more then your'd expect. "Well, I quess I should look into extending my stay... pant... for another week or so," you say, feeling a little warn out. You definitely overdid it. "You feeling okay?" you boss asks, "You looking a little red."

"I do feel a little... pant... out of breath all of a sudden..." you say, as you start to sweat a little. You fan yourself finding an unexpected amount of resistance as you do, as if your lifting weights. You look at yourself, and suddenly notice that your body seems to be settling more and more into your stool. What is going on? It doesn't take to long for you to put two and two together. It seems the potion you made may not have been permanent after all, and now all the weight is returning to you. Not now! you think. "Uhhh..." you stammer, as you try and think of the smart thing to do now, when suddenly, you feel the sound of splintering wood, and suddenly the stool collapses as it is assaulted with far more tonnage then it was ever meant to carry. You fall back, slamming into the ground as your body shimmies and wobbles, becoming once again like a heavy mass of jello atop you.

"Oh my gosh are you okay!?" says your boss, quickly rushing to your side. "Yeah! Yeah, just fine," you gasp, quickly rolling over and pulling yourself up before your weight grows to much for you to accomplish such a feat. You feel your body sagging back downward, all the more heavier with your past eating. You feel all the more heavier for having gotten used to being light once more, gravity seems to tug especially hard on you. "Must be an old stool," you say, trying to come up with some excuse before your boss begins to suspect something. "You're not looking so good," says your boss, putting his hands on your flabby back to steady you. Thankfully the glamour seems to still be intact as he doesn't seem to notice it sinking into an overstuffed marshmallow of flesh and flab. "Uh, maybe I ate something that didn't agree with me," you put out quickly as you begin sweating again, "I should go lay down." Your boss agrees, "Yeah, you better, we can't have you getting sick now!"

Your boss goes off to pay the bill, as you feel the last of your bulk settle atop you once more, and then begins escorting you back to the castle...


Written by Spots

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