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His Mayoral Duties

“Mayor Bradley! How do you feel now that you’ve just won a second term in office with a surprise landslide victory?!” A man with a microphone asked.

“I’m honored the people of Stocksville have chosen me to lead them again. I’m excited to get back in my office and make changes for the better.” The man confidently said, adjusting his casual yet sleek blue suit. He combed over his curls with his hand to make sure they weren’t frizzled.

“Mayor! To what do you contribute to such a meaningful success?” A blonde woman in a red suit nearly jumped out of the crowd. She, of course, was talking about how a black man, like himself, was the first to win a reelection as mayor in Stocksville.

“I think my policies speak for themselves. Our economy is doing better, crime is at an all time low and people are content with their lives in the city.” The mayor confidently responded.

“And mayor, what do you have to say to those who believe your victory was the result of fraud?” A man asked before being pushed back into the crowd.

If the people had known him personally, or had studied his body language, they would’ve known Scott staggered for a brief moment before responding. “I ask that they wait for the voting office to put out their data, and, for now, work with me in making progress towards a better Stocksville.” He smiled.

“How could they have known?! I was completely certain it would be a secret-” A man with shaggy brown hair walked back and forth before being interrupted by Scott.

“Just shut up! I know my office isn’t rigged with cameras or mics I’m not aware of. There’s no way it could’ve gotten out.” He said, leaning forward onto his desk.

“Then how would they have known we used dark ma-” Scott almost literally zipped the man’s lips this time.

“Roger. There is absolutely, assuredly, zero reason for people to believe we did anything suspicious other than their own conspiratorial beliefs. We have done nothing wrong, and there’s no proof otherwise.”

Roger wiped the sweat from his neck, “Well…”

Scott glared, “Roger.”

“I’m not saying I kept the book, but-”

“Roger!” Scott growled. A rarity for him.

“What if I need a demon for a hot chick or something? You never know.” Roger, now much more casually, admitted.

“If by ‘demon’ you mean ‘advice’ then sure, but you definitely don’t mean what you said literally, right?” Scott said, with a thick emphasis on the sarcasm.

“Relax Brandon, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m like, ninety-nine percent sure there’s no negative side effects.” Roger started, “You did do what the de- what the advice told you to do, right?”

Brandon sighed, pulling out the greasy takeout bag, “Yeah, I bought a burger after I won. I really don’t get how this was equivalent to whatever that…advice did.”

He took a large bite out of the burger, finding the taste divine. Scott quickly took another, and then a sip of his soda.

“Woah, slow down their champ. Just because you won doesn’t mean you can’t get sick from eating like that.” Roger advised, but it seemed Brandon wasn’t listening.

“Mmph, sorry,” Scott swallowed the last of his burger, “I don’t know why, but that was the best burger I’ve ever had from McTasties.” Finishing his soda and the fries, Scott went on, “I think I’m gonna get another. They must’ve changed their recipe or something!”

Roger noticed how Scott wiped the grease onto his blue suit, which, thanks to the dark color, didn’t detract much from it. However, he thought back to how Brandon got pissed off when he spilled water onto a similar suit.

“Yeah, I’m gonna head home. Call me if you need anything not politics related.” Roger said, the drawstrings of his green and gray hoodie flipping through the air.

Despite his calm demeanor, Roger was still thinking about his friend’s behavior. Just what was it that they had summoned the night before?

“Destiny! Two more orders of McTasties double cheeseburgers. One with fries and one with onion rings. Of course I want two milkshakes!” Scott said over his newly installed desk microphone. He had gotten tired of constantly walking down to ask her to order him more food.

“Right away Mayor Bradley. Oh, city council wanted me to notify you that they’re meeting for ordinance 5507 in 10 minutes.” Destiny replied.

Scott smiled and thanked Destiny. He slowly sat up from his chair and walked over to his mirror. His stomach bulged against the white undershirt and blue suit he adorned. A ketchup stain marked the white and a grease one the blue suit. It had been a stressful…2 weeks in office. Scott hadn’t taken the time to think about how he had gained weight so quickly, or how fast time had gone by.

Regardless, Scott decided to head down to the council room and wait for his colleagues there.

Opening his doors, he found an unwanted surprise.

“Scott! I really need to talk to you ri-” Roger nearly shouted.

“Can it wait? I have McTasties and a council meeting waiting for me downstairs?” Scott replied, rolling his eyes.

“I really don’t think you should. I’m not sure how much longer you have?” Roger panicked, welcoming himself into Scott’s office.

Raising an eyebrow, Scott now fully entered the conversation, “What, do I have a disease or something?” “You might as well! You know that ‘advice’ we summoned the other night?” Roger asked, using his hands to sign quotation marks in the air, “Well, apparently that deal was just its way to get ahold of you.”

“Wait, you mean I’m possessed?” Scott scoffed at his own words.

“Basically! It’s like an infection,” Roger opened the book Scott had berated him for 2 weeks ago, “The longer you don’t treat it, the more it affects you. This weight you’ve gained isn’t natural.” Roger poked Scott’s belly to emphasize his point, Scott smacking his friend’s hand away.

“So what, I've gained a few pounds. I’ve been stressed and cooped up in this office, I’ll be fine.” Scott said, stifling a belch.

Roger looked at his friend with glazed eyes, “You’ve barely done anything but eat McTasties and watched how the media is praising your election.”

Scott didn’t want to admit it, but as he looked at the greasy takeout wrappers on the floor, Roger was right. He hadn’t done much other than eat and pass a few laws that were already in the works before he was elected. But then, a lightbulb.

Well, a buzz on his desk microphone.

“Mayor Bradley. City council is meeting in 5 minutes now. Also, your McTasties is here.” Destiny rang.

Now with a smug look, Scott smiled at Roger, “I’m actually in the process of passing a new city ordinance right now. And you’re making me late. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

Scott then headed down the hall and towards the city council. Roger looked at the book and sighed. At least this wasn’t going to ruin his life. He hoped.

Entering the city council meeting room with his two bags of McTasties, Scott settled in before the last of the council members arrived. Immediately digging into one of the cheeseburgers and fries, the other city council members stared in shock.

“Uhm, Mayor Bradley. Mayor Bradley!” An older council member nearly shouted.

“Hmm? What is it?” Scott replied, licking ketchup off of his fingers.

“We’re starting our meeting…is it truly necessary for you to eat your lunch during our meeting?” The older man inquired.

“Oh, I’m almost done with it,” Scott casually replied, sucking down his milkshake, making a loud slurping sound in the process, “You all should try it sometime. Now, where were we?”

The following months saw historic change for Stocksville. Probably in the most insipid way possible. Ordinance 5507 gave more freedom to “inexpensive food companies” that was cited to help “impoverish citizens attain a more consummate meal.”

In reality, Scott just wanted more McTasties near city hall and his house, both of which now had 2 within a block.

Not that Scott walked to the fast food restaurant, but it certainly alleviated the weight on his employees. Though, it didn’t relieve weight in other areas. Within those months, the Bradley office staff had all put on at least 70 pounds of fat. Dozens upon dozens of McTasties orders came to the office each day, a majority of them coming from Scott himself.

Speaking of the mayor, he had gone up 3 suit sizes in the several months following ordinance 5507, which of course was followed by ordinance 5508, 5509 and 5512. All of which gave the McTasties company more power in Stocksville.

None of this caused the Bradley office any concern because, like Scott, they had all become addicted to the greasy junk. Seemingly overnight, the town had transformed into some Las Vegas for greasy restaurants. A competitor, Patty’s Burgers, was on the rise and produced even more restaurants for Scott- for the Stocksville citizens to order from.

Though, not all hope was lost for the town.

“Scooooooottttt!” A man with shaggy brown hair shouted down the hall. The guards were too fat and lazy to stop him from bursting into Scott’s office. “Scott, I’ve found out how to solve this- what the hell happened to you?!”

The mayor’s first response with a burp, followed by him trying to sit upright in his chair.

“Do you mind, URP, Roger? I’m trying to eat my pre-lunch snack?” Scott replied, taking a chomping bite out of a burger that looked much too large for human consumption. 3 more bags were filled with food next to him on the desk, Roger being able to tell they were filled because he couldn’t take a step in the office without his legs brushing up against an empty one.

“How fucking fat have you gotten? Do you realize what this is all from? That “advice?”” Roger, again, emphasized the word advice.

Scott slurped down a soda before literally dumping a carton of fries into his gaping maw. “What, the fucking demon? Yeah, whatever. Like anyone believes that shit.” He let out a very noticeable fart before going back to chowing down on a burger.

Roger noticed his friend’s new dialect. “Dude, since when did you swear? I thought you had to uphold an image or something.”

“Yeah, what-fucking-ever. People are so happy with all the McTasties, and now Patty’s! Who cares if I fucking swear!” Scott said with a little too much enthusiasm, finding himself wedged between his office chair, “Damn, this thing is getting old.” “Uhh, yeah. Anyways, I’ve figured out how to stop all this and get back to normal. All you have to do is eat some vegetables and fruit, lose a bit of weight and the possession should slowly go away. If that doesn’t work we’ll need a priest and-” “Bro, you’re actually still on this possession thing? I told you, I’m in complete control.” Scott said, taking a final bite out of his burger.

Then, a squeak was heard, followed by a snap and then Scott falling to the ground. Rips could be heard behind the desk as the mayor sat behind his desk.

“Fuck…that actually felt kinda good.” Scott mumbled to himself.

Roger, however, was much more worried, “Dude! Are you alright?!” He went behind Scott’s desk to help his friend up.

He immediately noticed that one of the buttons on his suit had burst off from the fall, leaving a portion of Scott’s belly wide open to the public. As he helped heft his friend up, Roger noticed that Scott’s pants were now torn at his thighs, exposing a significant amount of cellulite. After helping Scott up, the fat man waddled to the mirror in his office.

“Damn, I don’t look too bad.” Scott admired himself. Roger hadn’t taken the time to notice in his rush to save his friend, but as his friend looked on in the mirror, he really saw how far Scott’s appearance had fallen. The once well-shaved man now had a scruff that was forming a goatee, and the same furry situation could be said for his now-exposed belly. His suit was tattered with stains, and had torn in places Scott hadn’t even noticed.

“Scott I really think you should reconsider-”

“Roger, my time in office has been incredibly successful. Employment is at an all time low. People who were starving in the streets now have homes and food! Public transportation goes all over the city and our economy is thriving and healthy. All because I’ve invested in McTasties and fast food restaurants.” Scott went on, looking over the city, then back at Roger, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed your extra weight too.” He poked Roger in his belly, to which the pale man sheepishly backed off.

“Just listen to me dude, I think something is really wrong. I mean, how did you even convince the city council to get all of this done? Aren’t they notorious for stopping all your ideas?” Roger asked.

Scott smiled devilishly, braggin, “They attributed it to my “charisma.” They’ve really fallen for me.” He walked over to Roger and put his arm around his friend, “Look me in the eyes when I tell you this, Roger.”

Listening to his friend, Roger looked into Scott's eyes, but they weren’t Scott’s. They glowed a deep red, and were almost…hypnotizing.

“Go get yourself some McTasties on your way home. Tell them it’s on me, they’ll cover it.” Scott ordered, very persuasively.

Roger couldn’t help but slowly nod his head and turn around to leave Scott’s office. He could really go for a McTasties burger.

The next month saw Mayor Bradley’s only roadblock in his reign of ordinances. A group called “Alternatives for Health” rose to political distinction as a, you guessed it, alternative to Scott’s campaign. Not that there would be an election any time soon, but they aimed to rally support against all of the fast food-centric regulations that had recently been put in place. Lobbying Scott’s office near daily, they would’ve annoyed the hell out of any other group in office.

But, by this point, Scott’s staff had grown too fat and tired to care.

“URRRRRP, Desti-URRRRRRP. Destiny, where’s m’ damn order of fries?” A sweaty, double-chinned, bearded face mumbled over the desk microphone. When there wasn’t a response in 5 seconds, he repeated himself. “Destiny! URRRRRP, I need m’ afta’noon snack!”

“It’s, URP, on its way now. Sorry, thought it was for me.” A voice that was distinctly deeper than it was 4 months ago replied.

Just then, several bags of greasy food then came elevated up through a small nightstand-like desk. Grumbling as he slowly stood up from a wider chair, the fat mayor waddled to the bags of food. Not bothering to waddle back to his desk, he plopped his fat ass down on the ground and started devouring the food.

“God…this ain’t gonna be enough…it’s sho good…gonna need more…” Scott trailed off, plowing through the food like he had the littered takeout bags in his office. Sweat poured down his barely clothed body, pooling into the rolls that were made from hours of eating. A white wifebeater and black basketball pants were what Scott adorned, since nothing else fit and he had to keep up “public decency,” whatever the hell that was.

A voice annoyingly came through his microphone desk.

“Mayor you, URRRRRP, have a visitor.” Destiny rang.

Grumbling again, the mayor heaved his beanbag-esq belly off the ground and waddled back to his oversized chair.

“Send ‘em up!” Scott said, farting as he settled back into his chair. Just moving across the room had gotten him drench in his own salty perspiration. He rubbed his hairy, sweaty belly to coax out more gas before his visitor arrived. Though, he figured he already knew who it was.

“URRRP, Scott, I got more sco-URRRRRP-op on that health group.” Roger barged in. The trip to McTasties a month ago had treated Roger well. Some might’ve said a little too well. But Scott said it hadn’t treated him well enough, and sent his friend back for more.

“Good man! Whadda they want? URRRRRRP” Scott belched out, not bothering to stop eating.

Pulling out a bunch of graphs and research papers, Roger messily placed them all over Scott’s desk.

“So basically, URRRRP, ‘scuse me. Basically they’re tryna’ prove that bein’ fat is bad. Apparently it raises your chance for “heart disease” and “cholesterol related illnesses” but I haven’t heard of anyone hospitalized for those things recently.” Roger explained.

Scott’s brain was still trying to process the papers in front of him. Months ago these would’ve made sense, but for some reason he could barely comprehend the words. Words like ‘arthritis,’ ‘artery,’ and ‘high fructose’ were hard to read. Almost like he was realizing his descent into slobdom, Scott almost put the pieces together.

That was, until Roger shoved the straw to a milkshake in his mouth.

“Ya looked starved. Thank god I brought more McTasties.” Roger said, with Scott eagerly reaching for the bags with his sausage arms.

Roger rubbed his own exposed, pale belly that pushed out underneath his green hoodie. Surprisingly, the same hoodie from 4 months ago still fit the growing lard boy, but he was too addicted to the junk most of Stocksville ate for breakfast, lunch and dinner to be bothered to notice.

“So,” Scott pause for a monumental fart, “Heh, that was a nice one. Anyways, what’re we talkin’ about?”

“This, uh, health group.” Roger explained.

“Oh yeah, how do we get rid of them? They’re gettin’ in the way of me buildin’ more McTasties.” Scott shoveled another handful of onion rings into his mouth. Roger couldn’t even tell what was grease and what was sweat on the man’s face.

“Jus’...lemme handle it.” Roger smiled, with Scott appreciating the simple reply. “How’s the move goin’?”

Processing the question, Scott remembered he had ordered the leanest of his staff to move his home necessities to his office.

“Awesome dude! I got a TV and internet, so I’m basically set. All I need is a personal McTasties and I’d never have to leave.” Scott replied, his rolls and moob jiggling as he went to wipe sweat from his forehead.

“Sounds like the next ordinance at city council.” Roger smirked.

Scott belched and threw an empty milkshake cup into the trash pile that littered the room. “Oh, I disbanded that. They all got too lazy to come. So now they put their trust in me to make the laws.”

Roger’s eyes perked up at those words. “You’re just telling me now?!” Scott let out more gas and continued to eat, “Sorry, forgot I guess.”

Roger went over to Scott and leaned against his a fat roll.

“My friend, it’s a good thing you’ve started moving; I don’t think you’ll be leaving your office for a while.”

“Whaddare they sayin’? M’ fuckin’ tits r’ blockin’ m’ vision.” A fat blob of a man whined.

“Hold on Scott I gotta turn up the volume.” A less fat, but still incredibly massive, man replied. The less fat man placed a milkshake in between the blobbish man’s moobs, with the latter eagerly sucking down the contents of the cup.

“Roge-URRRRRRRRRRRP. Whaddare they sayin’ damnit!” Scott whined again, finishing the milkshake in record time.

Roger smirked and smacked Scott’s immense belly, “You’ve got no opposition m’ friend. You’re running unopposed next election.”

The wide man forgot to mention how he had gotten a few of the skinnier interns to infiltrate Alternatives for Health’s own office and sneak McTasties into their diet. A combination of this and tactically cutting off their funding so fast food was all they could afford spiraled to a quick downfall of their opposing organization. Scott let out a fart from the pressure on his belly, smiling nonetheless. “Thas…URRRRRRPP…fuckin’ awesome.” He unabashedly stated.

“Still it’ll be Stocksville’s first mayor who’s a human blob. And I don’t think it’ll be the last.” Roger stated, planting a kiss on Scott’s greasy lips.

Scott let out more gas, drool and more greasy getting into his beard, “Huh? Did ‘m new order come yet?” Scott had gotten a one-track mind. Which might have been a good thing had he not been corrupted with greasy takeout. The naked blob of a man now never left his office. Not that he could, given his recent immobility in the past month. His thighs were as thick as a hog plumped for a Christmas dinner, leading to an ass that was as large as his belly just months ago. Whenever the man moved, either to let out gas, to try to see the TV, or, recently, to pleasure himself, his entire body jiggled as if shockwaves were sent through him.

Arms hung uselessly at his sides, sitting on rolls upon rolls of fat. His face was basically just his unkept goatee, his several chins, greasy, and sweat. Oh christ the sweat. It was as if Scott had constantly come back from a workout at the gym, but his workout was simply processing thoughts and eating his McTasties meals. It got tangled in his hairy body and made the entire office smell like a sports locker room.

“Scott, ‘m back with your pre-pre-brunch snack!” Roger reassured the massive man.

Roger hadn’t faired much better after being ‘convinced’ by Scott to try McTasties. He was also shirtless, but wore underwear that had definitely seen better days. Just their yellow coloring and greasy stains were enough to paint a detailed picture. His gut rested over these underwear, looking like a dad who had recently gotten divorced and hit the liquor store too much, though with a more jiggly belly. He looked like Scott did just months ago, which didn’t bode well for his future. “Anything I can get for ya while I’m up babe?” Roger asked, opening his phone to see the news about Alternatives for Health.” The two had started dating because of what Scott again contributed to his “charisma.” They were basically inseparable now, Roger serving at Scott’s beck and call.

“Actually, fuck, yeah.” Scott said through mouthfuls of food, “Call in ‘n intern an’ suck me off.” Giving a knowing smile, Roger leaned against his massive boyfriend’s belly. He slowly got on his belly and crawled under Scott’s massive belly. They had done this enough times that Roger knew where to go in the sweaty expanse.

As an intern walked in and started to feed Scott, the immense man started to let out some affirming swears. Roger knew he found his goal.

“URP, Mayor Bradley, what will you do to, uh, ya know, make sure our city stays great?” An interviewer asks over a video call.

“I’ll, uhm, URRRRRRRRP, uh, yeah.” Scott replied.

They were all too fat to do professional interviews in-person anymore. Not that it mattered. They only had one choice anyways. Thank god they weren’t doing this in-person anyways. Scott barely fit in frame on the Zoom call. He barely fit in his office anymore. An amalgamation of sweaty, hairy fat.

“Great response, babe.” Roger egged his boyfriend on. He was nearing immobility too, struggling to get up and feed Scott nowadays. The interns took care of that for them.

The interviewer, clearly struggling to paint Mayor Bradley in a good light, asked another question. “To what do you contribute your, URRRRRP, successes.”

Scott nearly went cross-eyed. He let out a far that was audible on camera before responding. “More, URRRRRRRRRP, McTasties. Thas what’ll do!” He slurred.

The interviewer smiled and said, “Excellent idea!”

“They should, PFFFFFFFFFTTTTT, vote fa’ me jus’ ‘cus ‘m hot.” Scott gobbled down multiple burgers after the interview. Grease splattered all over him, and the walls. And his rolls. And his tits.

“That’s a gr-URRRRRRRRRRP-great idea babe!” Roger continued to egg on the massive man.

It was a wonder nobody realized how their demon, oh sorry, ‘advice’, had caused all of this. Roger didn’t do a very good job at hiding the evidence once he got a bite of McTasties.

If anyone had the brains to realize what was going on, they’d know their mayor hadn’t any.

That was okay, though. A quick bite of McTasties would fix their worries. Thank god they were expanding to other cities nearby.

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