Let's Make a Deal

As you struggle to escape, a sour-faced man carrying a pair of bolt cutters approaches your table.

"Okay, Porky, here's the deal," he says bitterly. "I'll help you out of there, but you must never come back to my restaurant. Understand?"

How can you refuse? "I promise," you answer in a tiny voice.

The man grunts his assent and crawls under the table, practically hidden beneath your ponderous paunch. You hear a sharp snap as he cuts one of the bolts holding the table in place. The table tips a few inches, creaking ominously, but remains attached to the floor. The man prepares to cut a second bolt.

Without warning, the table rips out of the floor and shoots across the room, propelled by your gargantuan gut. Your belly flops forward with an audible "blorp!"

You breathe a sigh of relief. Then you feel something odd. Puzzled, you lean to one side--and see a pair of flailing legs. The restaurant owner is suffocating beneath your rolls of blubber!

Written by Funny Animal

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