Game 2Game 2 Outline| Game 2 |
Game 2 Outline |
Just as you're considering making a bolt for it, an obese man in a red check shirt laughs out loud.
"Hah, I could beat that skinny puppy anytime!"
"Oh yeah?" you snap back reflexively, your hackles rising, "So why aren't you up here winning the money?"
He looks uncomfortable for a second, then replies "Alright, I'm gonna eatcha' into the floor, fleabag!" He strides on stage and the contest begins.
You have no idea what the actor does with the pies, but you have no choice but to eat them. Fortunately, they are absolutely delicious! To your intense suprise, you beat the loudmouth with barely an effort, and you still have loads of room. He is quickly followed by other competitors, the ice having been broken. They too fall in their turn, and you feel drunk with power. You celebrate each victory with a belly slap and another pie, obviously enjoying every mouthful. The crowd, which had started out with good natured boos and hisses, slowly shifts onto your side, until they are cheering at every vanquished contestant, egging you on, urging you to eat more and more and MORE...
"Wow mate, that was some act you gave out there. Even we were nearly taken in!" 2 people are helping you from the stage and down a corridor. By the end, the chair had collapsed under your weight, and you had finished the contest from the floor. You feel ready to burst, and are at least as half as fat again as you were before. The helpers hardly notice, putting it down to the 'costume'. You are apparently going to a dressing room to unload the pies, but you are too stuffed to consider the trouble you're in. The men continue to chatter.
"Boy, I wouldn'tve believed that that new suit could stretch that much! I mean, how can you walk with them in there with you? It's realistic too. Can't even see the zippers." As you reach the dressing room door you have enough wits left to mumble "'s'alright, 'll be 'k now." They look sceptical.
"Hey, you wanna get this thing off without us? Sure, no prob, but you'll have a hell of a struggle. What's up, you got nothing on in there?" Well, sorta. "Boy, are you gonna be in a mess!" They wander off, laughing, and you stagger into 'your' room. You promtly collapse to the floor and begin to massage your straining girth. At this final ill treatment, your tortured clothes rip, exposing you immense, fat body to the world in general. With the sudden freedom, every part off you seems to fatten by a good inch. You are merely relieved that the constriction on your belly has gone.
After a while, you feel recovered enough to be able to get about, albeit much less freely than before. But what should you do now?
Written by Lupine