It was Sunday. Adam lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. He kept asking himself what all this overeating had really been for. Nowhere had it ever said they were supposed to stuff themselves like pigs. They were supposed to cook from their mom’s recipe book. Sit down. Taste the food. Remember. Maybe talk about a few things. Maybe understand their father. Maybe understand themselves. They were supposed to eat like normal people. But they didn’t eat like normal people. He thought about the number on the scale. 141 kilograms. Then he looked down at himself. All he could see was his enormous belly. Slowly, he got up. He had slept naked, which wasn’t something he normally did. Apparently, he couldn’t even stand wearing clothes through the night anymore. He walked past the mirror and stopped.
He looked at himself. A massive, imposing figure. His belly dominated the entire image.
Yesterday they had eaten another mountain of food. He wondered how many stuffed peppers he had eaten himself. Matúš had eaten ten. That meant he and Jonáš had eaten around ninety peppers between them. He slowly straightened up and stretched his back. His belly spilled forward in all its glory. The towel stayed in place. The belly wasn’t going anywhere. Adam opened the refrigerator. Today was going to be another sweet day. His mom’s recipe book was very clear. Dukátové buchtičky.
The house gradually woke up. The sun began to warm everything pleasantly. They stood by the veranda railing like massive, dominant statues with enormous bellies. Each of them had found his own way to get comfortable. Adam leaned against it sideways. Matúš rested his hands underneath his stomach. Jonáš simply let his belly rest on the wooden railing.
“Thank God for this railing,” he remarked.
They drank their coffee in silence.
“Guys, we’ve been together for seven days, and all we’ve done is eat nonstop,” Matúš said thoughtfully. “But we enjoy it,” Jonáš replied.
Adam looked at Matúš’s huge belly and said, “We do. Especially you, since you were live on air.”
Matúš perked up. “On air?”
Jonáš heavily lowered himself beside him. He wrapped an arm around his shoulder like a brother. He wanted to give his belly a solid pat, but sitting down made that surprisingly difficult because he had to lean over his own stomach. Eventually he managed it. Matúš’s belly gave off a deep, heavy thud beneath his palm. Matúš looked confused. “That’s right, Matúško. That belly of yours was seen by the whole world yesterday.”
Matúš didn’t understand. Adam sat down on his other side. He also put an arm around him and gave his huge belly a firm slap. “Matúš, the way you were eating yesterday, all those dishes—it was streamed. People were betting on you.”
The smile disappeared from Matúš’s face. “What?”
Adam continued. “More than 8,400 calories in two and a half hours. A lot of people clearly lost money. Tibor made a profit.”
“At least you ate like a king,” Jonáš added.
Adam looked at him and asked, “You want breakfast?”
Matúš stood there in shock. Nobody had told him anything. Nobody had explained it. He walked into the kitchen, where he had left his jacket. In one of the pockets, he found the paper he had signed the day before. This time, he read it carefully.
The longer he read, the stiffer his face became. “Oh. So I actually signed up for five more feasts like this.”
Adam leaned against the counter. Matúš looked up. “What does that mean?”
Jonáš answered before Adam could. “It means you’re going to eat like that five more times. Maybe even more.”
“People want to see more,” Adam added.
Matúš looked down at his belly. “I can’t do that.”
Jonáš walked over to him. Matúš was sitting while Jonáš remained standing, and suddenly Jonáš’s enormous belly appeared so close in front of him that it briefly blocked his view of everything else.
“I’d like it,” Jonáš said.
Matúš looked up at him. “Seriously, Jonáš?”
Jonáš glanced at the paper and said, “The next stream is already today.”
Adam placed their mom’s recipe book on the table. The last day. Dukátové buchtičky.
“We need to start baking. How many do you think?”
Matúš was still trying to process everything, but he answered almost automatically. “A lot.”
Jonáš nodded. “We could never get enough of those. Now even less.”
Just then, a car pulled into the yard. Tibor stepped out. His large ears glowed in the morning sunlight. He looked seriously good. He walked up to the veranda and knocked. Matúš froze. He didn’t want to talk to him.
But Jonáš already had a plan.
He pulled his sweatpants lower beneath his belly to make himself look even more imposing and stepped outside.
Jonáš stood in the doorway like Goliath. Huge. Broad. His belly pushed out in front of him. Tibor looked like a delicate flower beside him.
“Good morning. I came to arrange today’s event,” Tibor greeted him.
Jonáš smiled calmly. “Good morning. Looking forward to it.”
“We’ll start at four.” Tibor seemed slightly surprised.
“Okay. The full menu again today?” Jonáš asked.
Tibor shook his head. “Not today. Today it’s only dukátové buchtičky. This is about quantity.”
“Fine. But let’s do it this way. I’ll be the main event. My brothers will be having lunch at your place too. Dukátové buchtičky for them as well. So make plenty.”
Tibor smiled. He stepped closer to Jonáš and placed a hand on his belly. He gently stroked it, then leaned in and whispered, “I’m glad it’s you. Matúš is great, but you’re my monster.” Jonáš didn’t move. “You’re going all out today,” Tibor added.
As he pulled back, one of his large ears accidentally brushed against Jonáš’s. The touch lasted only a moment. But Jonáš liked it. A lot.
The guys arrived at the café dressed up. They looked sharp. Jonáš was wearing a button-down shirt. He knew why. Tibor greeted them at the door. He looked at each of them in turn, but he lingered longest on Jonáš. Tibor walked past him, smiled, and rubbed his belly.
“Gentlemen, today is all about you. We’ll keep bringing you dukátové buchtičky for as long as you want them.”
Matúš was immediately excited. Adam looked more cautious, but even he seemed pleased. Sweet foods had a special power. They weren’t just dessert. They were a challenge.
They sat down at the table. Tibor brought out the first servings. These weren’t the tiny school-cafeteria pieces their mom used to make. They were bigger, fluffy, golden, and covered in thick vanilla cream.
“You’re doing this before the stream?” Matúš asked Jonáš.
“One serving to stretch the belly,” Jonáš said with a grin.
“Your belly’s already stretched so much that one serving can’t possibly be a warm-up round,” Adam laughed.
The buns disappeared quickly. Vanilla cream lingered on their lips, their fingers, occasionally even on the tablecloth. The sweetness was soft, warm, and deceptively light. The first servings vanished before they could really feel any pressure.
“How many are actually in one serving?” Adam asked. “Mom used to make little ones like they served in school. These are basically slices we’re dipping into cream.”
Jonáš looked at his plate. “Eight.”
Tibor arrived with another batch. “May I serve?”
The guys nodded. Tibor mischievously wiggled his ears at Matúš. Matúš blushed. The movement was so obvious it felt like a private signal.
Jonáš looked up at Tibor. “And my serving?”
Tibor looked at him, then at the belly trapped inside his shirt. “You’re being served in the other room. Follow me.” Adam and Matúš watched as he disappeared with Tibor. Jonáš and Tibor entered the bright room Jonáš recognized from yesterday’s stream. Nothing was hidden anymore. The camera was visible. The lighting was ready. The table was set. The room felt calm, but Jonáš immediately sensed this was going to be a performance.
“Today it’s all out in the open. I’ll keep bringing you dukátové buchtičky. We’ll start with larger amounts, and later you’ll decide how much you can handle. I trust you won’t disappoint me,” Tibor explained.
Jonáš sat down. The shirt pressed so tightly against his stomach that breathing was difficult. He carefully adjusted his belly so the buttons wouldn’t pop right away.
Tibor left and soon returned carrying two full plates. Sixteen buns. And a huge bowl of vanilla cream.
Jonáš started eating. Like a man. Without hesitation. He grabbed a bun, dipped it into the cream, and took a bite. Cream dripped onto his shirt, but he didn’t care. His ears moved slightly with every bite, as if his entire body was working to the same rhythm.
Less than ten minutes later, both servings were gone.
Adam and Matúš watched the stream from their table. More plates had already appeared in front of them, and despite being full, they kept eating.
“What should we bet on him?” Matúš asked.
Adam looked at him. “On our brother?” Matúš shrugged.
“We’ll see how he gets going. The final rounds will be the deciding ones,” Adam said.
“We’re not slacking off either. I’m already sixteen in,” Matúš replied, dipping another piece into the cream.
In the other room, Jonáš licked his fingers clean. A moment later, Tibor arrived again. This time he carried three servings. He placed them in front of Jonáš and leaned toward him.
“You started strong. Now you’ll do twenty-four.”
Jonáš stretched slightly toward him. Tibor leaned closer.
“You should unbutton your shirt. But try to finish these with it still buttoned. I think the buttons will give up on their own. Relax.”
Jonáš dug in. Again, like a man. Almost like a lumberjack. His mouth filled with dough and sweet cream. He no longer cared if he made a mess. Cream dripped onto his shirt, his pants, and the tablecloth. All he saw were the buns. He ate.
Soon the plates were empty.
He leaned back, raised his arms, and stretched hard.
His belly pushed against the shirt.
The buttons didn’t survive.
They shot across the room, and his stomach burst free. It settled majestically against the edge of the table.
Adam and Matúš were already full. Matúš looked at the screen. Jonáš had just finished another two servings. Tibor quietly entered the room. Jonáš was licking cream out of the bowl. He looked at Tibor and smiled. The idea that he could eat this long made him happy. He could feel his body protesting, but it hadn’t given up yet. He took a sip of coffee. Then some milk. Then started on another round of buns. Time-based bets were running on the stream, predicting how much he would eat in an hour. The counter was relentless. Adam and Matúš watched the screen.
“Look at that belly,” Matúš commented. “He’s not getting out of that chair today.”
“People are betting he’s eaten a hundred buns. I think it’s more. He put away forty in the first twenty minutes alone.”
Jonáš no longer thought in servings. He thought in volume. Capacity. Cream. Warmth. Sugar. Pressure. His belly kept bumping into the edge of the table, covered in cream and crumbs. Any pieces that fell onto it, he picked up with his fingers and ate too. Gong. The first stage ended. Jonáš sat there catching his breath.
“You’re incredible. One hundred and nine buns in an hour. How do you feel?” Jonáš sprawled in his chair. “Good.” Then he lifted his belly and placed it on the table. He groaned. “This is better.”
“You’ve got cream everywhere. Even behind your ears,” Tibor smiled.
“So is it over now? Did you make your money?” Jonáš asked.
“There’s still the finale. People will bet on how many you can eat. We’ll start with a serving of eight. After that, you decide the size of the next one.”
Jonáš straightened up. Now he would be the one pushing past his own limits. The stream resumed.
Adam and Matúš sat there with their bellies hanging out, watching Jonáš. They were completely full themselves, but they still had to finish the last buns in front of them. Nobody left the table.
“What’s happening now?” Matúš asked.
The fatigue was already visible on Jonáš. His body was grinding away. He was sweating. Beads of sweat ran down his face. His ears glistened. Everyone waited for his number.
“So how many?” Adam wondered.
“At least ten. I know him,” Matúš replied.
A number appeared on the screen. 12. Twelve golden buns now towered in front of Jonáš. He grabbed them with both hands. He alternated between dipping them in cream and chocolate, eating from both hands at once. The buns disappeared. The betting climbed higher.
Jonáš felt he had reached his absolute limit. But the pressure, the pleasure, and the sight of the numbers kept pulling him forward. He signaled another eight. Eight more appeared. He wiped his hands on his huge belly. He ate them too. Tibor’s large ears had practically turned purple with excitement. He watched Jonáš and waited for the next number. Five. Tibor set down another serving with five buns. He clearly sensed Jonáš was crossing a line. He leaned in and whispered, “Don’t stop if you don’t have to.” Jonáš reached for another bun. And ate it.
Adam watched the screen with growing concern.
“He needs to stop. He’s done. This is becoming a health issue.”
“Let him get at least four more. I already placed a bet,” Matúš said.
“You idiot,” Adam muttered. Then he added, “Seriously though, I’m more concerned about how we’re getting him home. Look at that belly. There’s no way a human being should be able to eat that many buns.”
Tibor waited for Jonáš’s signal. Jonáš held up four fingers. Tibor smiled and brought another serving. As he set the plate down, Jonáš mumbled, “After this, I’m done.”
He started on the final four. His head was beginning to spin. He was full of sugar and baked dough. His stomach was stretched to the limit. Finished. Bing.
But Tibor returned with another serving. Eight buns.
Jonáš looked up sharply. “Why?”
“This is the mandatory final bet. People wagered how many you’d eat.” He placed the buns directly on Jonáš’s enormous belly. This time Tibor’s voice was firmer. “Eat.”
Adam froze in front of the screen. “Seriously? He’s going to burst.”
Matúš watched Jonáš. “Relax. He’ll do it.”
Jonáš picked up the first bun. Then another. He scooped up cream and chocolate with his hands, slowly, savoring every bite. He bit. Chewed. Swallowed. Another. Another. Only two remained.
Tibor brought him a glass of milk. “Drink this. It’ll help.”
Jonáš didn’t even try to sit up straighter. He was eating the buns directly off his belly. Another. One left. He wanted to stop. But then he looked at his majestic stomach and picked up the last one too. The room filled with the sounds of chewing, breathing, and silence. Finished. The camera shut off.
His brothers staggered into the room. Their bellies hung heavily in front of them. Overstuffed and weighed down by food, they walked over and patted him on the shoulders and stomach in approval, almost ceremonially.
Adam looked him over. “You’ve got to weigh two hundred kilos today.” Then he looked at Matúš and asked, “How are we supposed to get him home?”
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