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Called for help.

Grumbling as you try again in vain to pull your shirt lower, you suddenly notice that there is a flashing light on the phone. Someone must have called while you were out. You walk over and hit the play button.

"...know it's ringing... hey, this is Albert, we need you down here now with that camera, we go a situ... NO NOT THAT...!" *CRASH* *SHATTER* *CRACK* *CLICK*

You check to see if Albert called again, but there are no more messages, and it sounds like it was possible the phone was damaged by whatever was going on on the other end.

This just isn't your day, you think, as you grab the camera. Waddling back out to the car. You open the door and slowly wedge yourself back in, having trouble closing the door due to the mass blocking it: you.

Huffing, you pull out and begin driving to the reception, not knowing what to expect, as Albert failed to go into details before he was cut off.

***

When you get there, you eventually find a spot not taken by what you can only assume to be the other attendants. You turn off the car, and try to open the door... only to find the handle blocked by the rolls of flab on your side now pressing into the door. You try to lean away, but wedged as you are you've run out of wiggle room, as you stomach pushed tightly into the steering wheel, and your rump fills the car seat, locking you in place. Your stuck in the car!


Written by an anonymous author

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