Game 3Game 3 Outline| Game 3 |
Game 3 Outline |
The tiger positions himself at your feet, visible only from the waist up as you flop down on your back, your belly hiding the rest of him from view. Putting your hands behind your head and nestling them snugly behind your ears, you begin laboring to fold your massive middle in two.
It's just as you reach the halfway mark, your back screaming as your arms hoist your head and neck higher, that you spot a subtle difference in the tiger. Where you'd thought there was a washboard (albeit fur-covered) stomach, his muscle shirt bulges slightly against his "table muscle". Huh, you think to yourself. He may be a self-righteous health nut, but he sure doesn't look like a fitness nut. You're still stretching your elbows out toward the distant reaches of your knees as it comes to you to wonder if the leprechaun has a hand in this... a thought that bears fruit as the tiger's shirt suddenly comes untucked, revealing the creamy-white fur that now covers a slowly-expanding waistline. You smile wickedly through your exhaustion as he looks down, trying... and failing... to tuck the shirt back in.
"Hold it a minute", he tells you, and walks over to a shiny bulkhead... where he stops and stares. "What", he stammers, "wh-what's hap-... ?" He pinches his softened waist, which bulges between his fingers like a furry water balloon before bouncing softly against him as it snaps back against his frame. "I... I'm f-ff-..." He can't even bring himself to say the word, you realize. "What's going on here?" He looks wildly at you, his panicked eyes desperately searching for an explanation.
What to tell him?
Written by Wanderer
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