Game 3Game 3 Outline| Game 3 |
Game 3 Outline |
With the leprechaun finally gone, you grab another burger and shove it in your mouth. Even though it tastes good, you still are left with the heavy weight of what to do next. Well, you got your story, for whatever that is worth. Other then that you need to get back home to the office and get things in order. Obviously with your new condition, you have a lot to deal with, you can’t just go back as if nothing has happened. Sighing you grab your cell phone and dial your bosses number. It take six attempts, your mushy thick paws making hitting the right buttons and even holding it difficult, but finally you get it ringing.
“Hey boss,” you say , “yeah, I’m finished here, listen, a lot has happened, your not going to believe it, but I’m going to need a bit more for a ticket home...”
***
It takes a long time to explain the situation, luckily your boss is more open minded then most. He forwards you some more money, and you manage to but some clothes and a ticket home. Of course the clothes don’t fit, no one in the village sells your size, so your belly hangs out in front of you and your rump is barely contained by the shorts, which was tailored out of two pairs of the largest sizes available . You had to buy 3 plane tickets, and cause a big g commotion trying to board, as you got stuck in the asle, having to switch seating with the front row to keep from delaying the rest of the boarding passengers, and having trouble getting the seatbelts to stretch around the curve of your stomach. After a rather uncomfortable flight you finally get home.
Luckily your appartment is on the first floor of the building, you don’t think you could even fit it the stairwell, let alone climb them. You had to open the sliding door out back to even attempt to get in, and that was a tight squeeze. It wasn’t a huge apartment to begin with, now you have problems even walking around as your hips and belly send things toppling as you pass between furniture. You load up on food from the fridge and head to sit down. You look at the recliner and sigh, knowing it would collapse if you attempted sitting down on it. You ease yourself onto the love seat, wedging your rump between the arms and carefully leans my back. You feel the arms crack as your blubbery hips push them out, and the frame creaks dangerously. “Welcome to your new life,” you say to yourself, looking down at the expanse of your stomach before tearing open a bag of chips, and stuffing a handful into your face.
Written by an anonymous author
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