Game 3 | Game 3 Outline |
You gasp as you here what you said, it was all garbled, you realize that the fat around your face has grown so much, its muffling and distorting your voice, "What was that," the Leprachaun says, "Fraid I canna understand that," You gather all the breath you can, trying to overcome both the weight pressing upon you, and the folds that encompass your face, "Ie wesh, ie wash hines wrgiht sow,' you sputter. You realize that not even you can decipher your speech, but the leprachuan takes full advantage of it, "'Good job' yer say, "I wish I could be this way forever' ye say," Your eys go wide, "Now, ftat kntot fit, dotn't gwent ftat ish," you mumble feverishly, trying to stop the leprachaun from permanantly trapping you in a blob of a body. "'And you don't want to be able to wish yorself out of it' ok, ye've made yerself clear," he says, ans snaps his figers.
You suddenly feel your weight stop climbing, stabalizing. You look at yourself, a litteral blob of fat, "Noomph," you cry, tears flowing. Frantically, you try to move, anything, but are sadly rewarded with nothing from most of your body. Your legs, stomach and chest are firmly anchored in place. Your arms however, resting upon your masive chest, wobble slightly. Seeing possibly the only capable moving part of you besides your indesiferable mouth, you pull hard, straining every ounce of energy to move your arm upwards. For five minutes, nothing happens excpt wobbling and jiggling, but then, you see your arm move slightly upwards. You pour on more steam, sweat giltening off of your fur as your arm slowly moves towards your neck. For half an hour, you proceed, your arm muscle cramping, but finally, you are able to reach your neck. You pant haevily, realizing how bad your predicament is, and that was only one arm.
Your next half hour consists of trying to move your other arm, but with the energy you spent moving your first arm, it takes you even longer to move the other, not to mention keeping your first arm in place. A good two hours later, both your arms are close enough, and you push the folds of flab away from your face, they feel like slabs of gelitine, and quiver at your touch, trying hard to flow between your hands and back into place. Finally you get them pinned under the folds of flab in your arms, then push your flabby cheeks outward. You take a gasp of air, your lungs in your padded chest. You feel like your going to burst simply from existing, but finally, you gather enough air to say to the leprachuan, I... wish... I... could... talk... un... hin...dered." with that, your strength finally fails, your arms slip down your chest, your cheeks snap back into place, your neck flaps into your face, forcing your mouth shut with an adiable click. The Leprachaun, who had been watching your attempts with a amused look apon his face, clicks his fingers, "Granted."
You slump back, panting haevily, hardly having any strength at all after all that. Your head pounds, you feel dizzy from lack of oxygen. Your lungs are ready to copapse. Your litteral sufficating from your own weight. No living creature was meant to support this much weight and live. "I... wish... I... could... heh... heh..." you feel yourself drawing what you know to be your last posible breath before your weight literally flattens your lungs, "B..re...th..e" you say, as you feel you vain burning for air. "Granted," you hear, and suddenly, you feel your Lungs inflate with fresh, clen, pure, life giving breath.
You suck it in vigorously, like it was water. After about half an hour, you begin to feel like yourself again, that is, yourself plus a good few tons of skin and fat. "You stupid, I was wishing to be thin!" you yell with all the power your gladly filled lungs will let you, "Well, that's not what Aye heard," retorts the Leprachaun, "I wish for you to make me thin again right now!" you scream, "Sorry boyo, canna do that. Ye made sure you couldn't, specified in yer wish to remain this way. Ye could have undone that wish with one of the two wishes following it, as leprachan law states, 'Article 5, peragraph c, subsection b, In the case of permanent wishes, two reconsidery wishes are allowed in case the client in question finds himself unsatisfied with the state of affairs due to said permanancy wish. After these two wishes are granted, the subject is considered satified with his state of affairs and can no longer remove said wish."
You gap, your puffy cheeks and neck camoflaging it almost completely, "You mean, I'm stuck like this, forever!?" "Looks liek it, Boyo," the Leprachaun chuckles. You sit ther, which is all you can do at this point. Your a furry blob of a blimp, unable to move, unable to wish yourself out of it, and to top it all off, now your tired and hungery.What are you going to do?
Written by an anonymous author
(This page has not yet been checked by the maintainers of this site.)