Matt smacked his greasy lips and his stomach growled for more. Matt knew better than to put off packing, but for some reason he had to meet the guy behind that sauce-dripping turkey.
"Sure, ok. I'll meet him."
"Cool." Russ slowly got to his feet and stood up off the bench--his quivering potbelly slumped over his shorts in a flabby mound, and as it shook Matt glanced at it and watched Russ's his shirt to ride up and the bottom of his gut. It looked like Russ had been fed well these past few days; he looked like he had just grown out of his clothes recently, and he didn't have anything that fit...
"Come with me." Russ motioned as his stomach fat bounced beneath his shirt. He led the way for Matt to the lodge where a giant chimney was spewing smoke. Along the way Matt's mouth still watered from the residue of the turkey and all he could think of eating more.
He followed Russ into a kitchen where Tim the chef was busy washing some of the messiest, food-covered pots and pans Matt had ever seen. The whole place looked like it could make enough food for ten banquets at once, yet it was built into a tiny out-of-the-way camp. Curious, Matt thought. Tim dried himself off and shook his hand.
"Hi, nice to meet you," he said as they exchanged pleasantries. "Did you two like the turkey?"
"It was really good." Russ exclaimed. Matt was a little more interested in the sauce that was poured over it, since it was almost better than the chicken itself. "That sauce..." he asked, "I've never tasted anything like before. What's in it."
"Secret family recipe." Tim said (rather unconvincingly). "Listen, if you like it so much, you're both welcome to some of the leftovers from lunch. I was going to throw it out anyway."
Matt glanced at Russ, who seemed ready to dig in for more. But for some reason Matt felt wary. "Is there a lot??..." he asked. "Not that much. I mean, compared to dinner anyway. Really, two young, growing guys like you will finish it off in two seconds."
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