Eat Everything Everywhere All At Once
Peter stopped and stared at the poster. It was for a new film from Surplus Entertainment Inc. He scratched at the underside of his stomach and took in the image of the fat Asian guy who was striking a kung fu pose. The guy had typical flat black Asian hair and was holding his palms up above his burgeoning belly surrounded by a swirl of burgers, noodles, chopsticks, and fries. It kind of looked like the guy was trying to fight his way through a vortex of food, but the guy didn’t look frightened or threatening in any way. His face was round and soft, as were his eyes. Peter burped. Interesting, he thought.
A kid walked past him, munching on a pizza slice. “Hey, what do you make of this?” Peter asked him, poking a fat finger at the poster. “Sposed to be good,” the kid mumbled through his mouthful of pizza. “Not the film, the guy. What do you make of this guy?” The kid swallowed his mouthful and stepped closer to the poster. He squinted his eyes and pressed his piggy little nose up against the guy’s belly. “Dunno,” he said, “Sposed to be good.”
Peter wondered why he’d bothered asking the advice of a twelve year old. “Not the film,” he repeated, “the guy! Do you think he’s Chinese or Korean?” The kid looked up at Peter and furrowed his brow. “How should I know?” “I don’t like Korean food,” Peter told him, “too many vegetables.”
The kid twisted his lip and took a candy bar from his pocket. He twisted and pulled at the wrapper while he thought. “No one likes vegetables,” he said. Peter looked at him in a way that suggested that he had said something profound. They shared a moment and then stood in silence staring at the Asian guy, of unknown descent, in his vortex of pan-Ameriasian cuisine, while the kid took a bite of his candy bar.
The kid broke the silence; “Gotta go, gonna be late for dinner.” Peter turned his neck to look at him and said goodbye to the back of his head as he plodded off down the street. He then returned to looking at the poster. The Chinese-Korean guy had one eye closed. He appeared to be winking at him. Had it always been like that? Peter looked at the time on his phone. It was closing in on five o’clock. He was too old to have a Mom that forced him home on time for dinner. He placed his phone back in his pocket and took a few steps to the right so that he could see the list of show times. There was a showing starting in fifteen minutes.
Peter was pressing his thick thumb up against the touchscreen, in order to select the single adult button, when a pop-up appeared. It asked him if he wanted to upgrade to the ‘interactive’ version for an extra 3.99. Peter frowned. Not because of the attempt to up-sell him, but because he didn’t know what it was. He turned around and surveyed the foyer for a member of staff, but none were forthcoming. The only employee in view was a dumpy teenage boy with tits the size of watermelons, and he was serving the long queue at the concessions stand. Whatever, Peter thought, as he squished his thumb against the button.
He took his ticket and checked the time on his phone again. He still had five minutes, plus the twenty minutes of commercials that would inevitably run before the feature, so he joined the queue at the concession stand.
His belly began to rumble as he watched each guy in line in front of him order their snacks and walk away with an armful of popcorn and candy. He thought about the kid, who might be home already, filling his face with piles of creamy home made mash and pork chops. He missed having someone to cook for him. His memories increased his hunger. When he reached the counter, he took a second to read the badge pinned to the candy clerks bulging breasts; “Hi, My name is Roger.” The guy had black hair, not too dissimilar to the star of the films, and a beach ball belly to match his bosoms. “How can I help you?” Roger asked him. Peter ordered a super mega popcorn combo, three hot dogs, and an extreme cola. Roger handed him his order with an honest smile. Peter piled his items on top of one another and held them in a cupped arm up against his rumbling belly. He then plodded off to find screen two.
A boy called Thomas, with brown fuzzy hair, a belly the size of a planet, and a short goatee, asked him for his ticket. Peter handed it to him. Thomas tore it and handed him back his stub. “First on the left,” he said. Peter took one step in preparation for moving off when Thomas spoke again. “Oh wait, you have an interactive ticket! I have to give you this.” Thomas reached into a bag and pulled out two small nodes. They looked like the kind of little round alkaline batteries that you get in watches or other electronic devices. “What am I supposed to do with these?” Peter asked him. “One on the temple and one on the gut,” Thomas told him while pointing to the right places. Peter shrugged, almost causing the extreme cola, perched on top of his super mega popcorn combo, to topple. “Thanks,” he mumbled, and made his way into the theater.
He was one of only a handful of people there so was able to select a central seat about half way up, and still had no one sitting close to him. He loaded his snacks into the chair next to him and made himself comfortable. The commercials had already started. He munched on his first hot dog whilst a bunch of fat kids sang the Oscar Mayer wiener jingle at him from the screen. “I’m glad I’m not an Oscar Mayer wiener, cos then there’d soon be nothing left of me.” There was something familiar about the main boy who was leading the chorus. Peter swallowed his hot dog and burped. I thought you were at home having your dinner, he said to himself.
The commercials continued while he ate his other two hot dogs. One was for Nathan’s and the other for Dog Haus. He washed them down with a slug of cola and began to much on the super mega popcorn combo as the film began.
The opening scene was nothing special. The fat Asian guy of unknown nationality was sitting at a desk littered with receipts. He was doing his taxes or some other boring shit and munching on popcorn. He looked nothing like the kung fu fighter in the poster. Peter was disappointed. He had expected more action, and his popcorn tasted like nothing, it wasn’t even salted. This went on for a few minutes, before some other guy came in and they started arguing. Peter sighed. He wasn’t at all impressed by any of this. He wondered why he hadn’t just gone to Dog Haus for dinner instead. But then, he felt a slight buzzing in his pocket. He shifted his belly, and leaned to the left, in order to reach into his right pocket. It was the nodes. He had forgotten about them. They must have been set to vibrate as a reminder to customers like him who forgot to put them on. With no real expectations for anything he placed one against his right temple and the other on the top left of his stomach, just as the usher had told him to. He then reached down into his super mega popcorn combo and took a handful. Butterscotch.
Peter couldn’t believe it. Only a few moments earlier it had tasted like cardboard. Now, all of a sudden, it was the softest, nuttiest, and sweetest popcorn he had ever tasted. He foisted his hand back in and grabbed an even bigger handful and shoveled it into his mouth. He was so distracted by the delicious taste and delightful surprise that he didn’t notice that the guy on the screen was doing the same. He tipped the box up to his mouth and poured the entire contents into his gaping mouth. His belly roared in appreciation as the rich and buttery corn tumbled down his esophagus. He stared into the empty box, just as the film flipped to the next scene.
The guy was now in a launderette talking to a more than bulky cowboy. The cowboy offered him a chocolate bar. The chocolate bar was also nutty. The nuts were wrapped in caramel and coated in rich dark chocolate. Peter drooled as the tricolor of flavors coated his tongue. It was sickly, but he couldn’t get enough of it. He reached into the box and took bar after bar, ripping the wrappers open in un-pent frustration; he couldn’t get them down him quick enough. His stomach started to fill, yet the hunger tore through him like an earthquake. He slugged on his extreme cola and burped in unison with the guy of Chinese or Korean origin. Only then did he realize what was happening. This was awesome!
The next scene was in a tax office, but Peter didn’t care about the plot. All he wanted to know was what was coming next. A lady offered the Asian guy a toffee. The toasted sugar notes and creamy butter crunched in his mouth. It was more robust and filling than the popcorn. He took another, and another, as he tongue danced around his pallet, greedily licking every speck of the delicious candy off the back of his teeth. He burped again and felt his belly swell ever so slightly.
To his amazement, at this point, this pacing of the film completely changed. The Asian guy was in a closet talking to some other fat dude who looked like the previous guy but wasn’t the previous guy. Apparently, the whole thing was about people jumping through dimensions or something. It was nothing like the boring kitchen sink drama that it had pretended to be at the beginning. The guy who wasn’t the other guy was explaining to the fat Asian that he had the ability to eat everything everywhere all at once. Peter’s eyes widened as the repercussions of this began to settle in the neurons of his brain. His head and body washed with dopamine as he was suddenly transported to Japan. His mouth filled with crunchy sushi rolls, chili beef ramen, and battered tempura. He barely had time to swallow before he was in New Mexico gorging on tamales and chile en nogada. Next it was tapas in Spain, before jambalaya in Ghana. His belly filled and started to rise while a little green light flashed on the node stuck to the side of his head. His hunger never subsided.
The pace of the movie slowed for a moment and he was able to take a deep breath and suck on his cola. He peered down at his belly which had already risen a few inches. He burped loudly as he was whisked off to Guatemala. There he had pepian de pollo and tostadas followed by rellenitos for dessert. His stomach gurgled and churned as the flavors of the world started to settle and load his intestines. He felt his whole abdomen start to expand. His belly pushed out in every direction forcing his legs further apart as it sank deeper and deeper between his thighs. The arms of his seat started to creek as his love handles filled and swelled with layers of extra fat. He felt the seat getting tighter and tighter as his mouth was awash with mulligatawny soup, and the arm rests bent further and further apart. Finally, they snapped, and his heaving flesh spread out across the seats next to him. By the time he was done with the Chicago deep pan and fries he filled three seats.
Peter had never felt such pleasure. The gastronomic levels of pressure were intense. His whole digestive system worked overtime as it loaded his body with visceral and subcutaneous fat. It coated his organs, filled the gaps between his muscles, and piled up under his skin, like a volcanic eruption of adipose tissue. He ballooned out in every direction.
The pace of the film slowed again and Peter was able to take in his new immense size. He smiled broadly and wiped the mess from his lips as he surveyed the damage. His belly was monstrous. It seemed to stretch out in front of him like the plains of Illinois. He could feel the back of the bent and broken seat in front of him digging into the underside of it. His arms, puffed up with layer upon layer of chub, stuck out of his sides at an obtuse angle; forced sideways by the expansion of his heaving chest. He could feel that his neck was thick and heavy, wrapped in a warm scarf of freshly laid fat. He tried to rotate his head but the weight of his newly chipmunked cheeks made it difficult. He burped, and burped, and burped.
His focus slowly started to return to the screen as the fullness inside of him slowly started to subside. The Asian guy was now enormous. He was once more talking to the guy that wasn’t the other guy who was explaining to him that he couldn’t just travel to other places, but that he had the ability to eat everything everywhere all at once. Peter’s stomach realized what this actually meant a few seconds before his brain did. It screamed and kicked and howled in anticipation. For a moment Peter thought that it might rip itself out of his heavily fat laden abdomen. And he was off.
He was in Montreal feasting on poutine at the same time as he was in London. He was also in the Philippines, Sofia, and on a planet called Zebabedoingagongduzis Three. There he ate an entire kujakdun, which was an animal similar to a walrus, or a spitluyk on the planet Hjugiberg. His stomach had never known anything like it. The flavors of the universe filled and appeased him. He was conscious of everything and conscious of nothing. Everything was food, everything was fat, everything was delicious, and he couldn’t get enough of it.
The seats around him started to crack and pop as they folded in on themselves under his immense weight. His belly bounded forward, down the levels, breaking through one row, no two, no three, no four. He thought that the expansion would go on forever. He thought that he would become a gaining god. But to his disappointment the credits rolled. He was in his denouement.
The feeding stopped and the little green light on the node turned to red. He pulled it off and tried to throw it on the floor in disgust, but it just landed on his belly. He couldn’t believe it. He made an elephant look small.
The house lights came on and Peter could see for real what had happened. The theater was a mess. He was as big as a house; a house made of fat. He laughed and burped and burped and laughed. Too big to get up by himself he sat there pawing at the fat that he could reach. It was so soft, so fresh, and new. He loved it. Finally, Roger entered with a dustpan and brush. “Oh, hi there,” he said. Peter looked down at him. Roger's watermelon breasts and beach ball belly now looked tiny by comparison. “Did you enjoy the movie?” Peter nodded in response. “Interactive is the best, right?” Peter nodded again. He was too exhausted and overcome with joy to speak. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you out of here,” Roger told him.
Out on the street, Peter filled the entire sidewalk. Passers by gawked at him jealously as they checked for traffic in order to safely get by. After a few minutes a fat kid approached him and offered him an Oscar Meyer wiener. He accepted it gladly. “Was he Korean or Chinese?” the fat kid asked him. “Who cares!” Peter said. “I’ve learnt to appreciate both.” He then ate his hot dog.
Male Weight Gain Stories with a Twist!
