Game 2Game 2 Outline| Game 2 |
Game 2 Outline |
At first, Fred's idea seems to work: with all the veggies, you get to eat as much as you like, and the weight falls off you! However, after a few weeks you hit a snag- your body refuses to go below about 450 pounds; less than you were, but you still feel huge. At first suprised, then annoyed, Fred gets a determined look on his face and declares "Right then, it's time you did some exercise!" He appoints himself your personal trainer. Great!
Not great. After the first 'little jog', as Fred put it, you feel like your lungs are going to explode. After two weeks of grueling pain you are sore everywhere, tired and, what's worse, still as big as ever. The most humiliating thing, however, is that Fred seems to be flourishing. He's grown another inch in this fortnight alone, all over. It annoys you how he's so much better at this than you, and regularly demonstrates the fact. Fred tries to encourage you by saying you'll end up like him, but it just doesn't seem to be that way.
His sense of humour is starting to get on your nerves, too. You know that deep down you do actually like this pumped-up canine, but his casual putdowns and insults about your size really hurt your feelings sometimes. You try not to let this show, because, after all, he is your friend.
One night, you feel particularly unpleasant because you've just weighed yourself and found that you've gained two pounds. Fred bursts in, loud and cheerful as ever, just back from a workout (you groan to yourself at the thought; he did a 3 mile run earlier, and 50 sit ups. He made you do them too!). "Hi!" he grins at you, "Made my dinner, yet?" Another deal, he cooks your food, you cook his. Slow torture for you: Fred likes things such as jumbo steaks in barbeque sauce. You get salad and pasta.
"Ugh, how can you even think of food after all that exercise?" you exclaim, "I'm utterly shagged out!" "That's because you're fat and unhealthy. I'm in good shape!" Fred declares cheerfully. You feel a little put out, and decide to press the attack. "You don't think you're in too good a shape, then?" you inquire. Fred's grin falters, a scowl building on the horizon. You continue, "I mean, you're pretty huge now. When're you going to ease up?"
"When I feel like it." Fred snarls, suddenly angry. "Get off my back. At least I can claim to be in shape!" You feel betrayed at that blatant insult. "Well, I'd rather be out of shape than some musclebound fitness freak" you mutter, regretting it the minute it's out.
Fred has sharp ears. His face twists with rage, every muscle on his body stands out, his hackles up. He suddenly grabs you and slams you against a wall. You don't know what's more shocking, the fact that he did it, or that he did it so easily. His incredible physique is suddenly a lot more intimidating. "You say that to ME?" he hisses, "What would you know about it, Fatso?" He grabs a roll of your belly and squeezes, hard. You have never seen ANYTHING this angry before.
You're nearly paralysed with fear.
Written by Lupine (edited by wanderer)