Up: Game 3  Up: Game 3 Outline

What he needs and what you need.

You think fast, because there is no way your going back there to confront the leprachaun again. Given your track record, it would only take a few moments before he did something worse to you then he already has, and frankly, you don't want to know what could be worse then being stuck as jabba the mutt for the rest of your life. "Look, do you REALLY want me to come along?" you say in a tone that suggests your willing, but seems like your questioning wither that is a good idea, "I mean, look at me, and look at the door," you say, pointing out the frame that your girth clearly exceeds by almost twice it's length. "Do you really want to have to deal with stuggling to fit me through every single one we encounter? I mean it took me hours just to get in here by myself, do you really want to be pushing on my backside for most of the day?" You know your boss well enough that he doesn't like to be kept waiting, and hates having to do a lot of work to get what he wants. And the prospect of trying to push your butt throuh doorways may just be repelent enough for him to change his mind.

The expression on the fox's face turns to comtemplative, and slightly disgusted, "Well... you do have a point there..." he concedes, "Ok, then, you tell me where to find the Leprachaun, and I'll go deal with him," he agrees, "But I want your paper typed up by the time I get back." he adds, obviously not wanting you to be sitting on your but while he did all the work. "Sure thing," you agree, glad that he took the biat so easily. You tell him where you last saw the Leprachaun, then get your laptop as your boss leaves, sitting on the couch and using your belly as a stand as you being composing your thoughts.

Typing up your story isn't too hard, sure there were a few bumps along the way, your fingers being too fat to type without mashing three letters at once, but a pencil quickly soves that problem as you use it to push each key instead. It's not long before it's finished, and you email it to editing. Looking at your clock, it's only been a couple of hours, leaving you with plenty of time before your boss get's back. You lift your arms and stretch... only to hear a loud 'riiiiiiiiiiipp', as the seams of yoru shirt finally give out. The sleeves almost explode, and the shirt tears along the back, leaving the garment in rags and your bloated body expands out of the constriction. Darn it, that was the last thing that fit you.

You obviously need new clothes, your pants are the last things you have, and their just about ready to give as well. You guess you've no choice but to head into the village and look into a new wardrobe. Carefully you get up, so as not to overly stress the skin tight PJs any more, and head for the door, grunting as you once againt have to foce your bloated frame through a space too small for it. Halfway through, you stick, and have to put forth extra effort to free yourself. Sure enough though, another sound of tearing sounds as your straing causes the seat of your pants to rip wide open as you finally stagger though. Thouroughly embarrasses, you head out, trying to hold what's left of the cloth together before it gives out completely...

Written by an anonymous author

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