This choice: An antidote is ready, but Sonic refuses it • Go Back...Chapter #4An antidote is ready, but Sonic refuses it by: Unknown The syringe's more subtle side-effects of mind warping in full effect, the enormous blob of a hedgehog gave an enthusiastic "Heck no!".
However to say he was merely a blob would be giving a disservice to his now rather... defined features, to say the least. Eight tons of sweating, blue furry flab, just about every part on Sonic's once slim and taut body was grossly exaggerated to a comical extent. Over a dozen times the size of his original size, his stomach sat out a good metre from himself, quivering and shaking like a bowel of jelly with even the slightest provocation. Resting either side on top and to his sides were his arms and legs, almost entirely submerged in a thick ring of blubber which stopped Sonic from doing much more than wiggle his largely obscured feet and sausage-like fingers. You could be excused for missing these features however, given how he now sported a chest which would put Rouge's to shame, each male boob the size of a deflated yoga-mall sagging to the sides of his stomach. The crowning part of this gargantuan hedgehog however were the two miniature mountains he now uncharacteristically called his butt cheeks, their size dwarfing the rest of his body as his bloated head leaned contently back into them.
"Sheesh, why would I want to get rid of all this doc?" Sonic asked with a noticeably lower voice, seemingly unaware it was himself who'd waddled in a few hours earlier, barely mobile and desperately begging for medical attention. "How'd I even get in here, I think it's been a few minutes since I ate something!"
Flabbergasted at the once speedy character's sudden acceptance of his incredible bulk, the doctor found himself in a bind. On one hand, the subject was obviously delirious. On the other hand, he was rather bluntly denying his services, and holding the hedgeblob here against his will would be tough to justify if Sonic was far too immobile to prove he was a risk to himself or others. Not to mention all Mobian medical science would've told you what was sitting before him was physically impossible, and that the patient in front of him should've keeled over and died from that amount of blubber on that small a subject before he even reached the medical labs.
Sighing awkwardly, the doctor shrugged and found himself inable to administer the closest thing they had to an antidote.
"Well, do you have any family or friends who can ship you off- I mean, pick you up and take you home, Mr. The Hedgehog?"
Thinking to himself for a moment (inbetween the near-constant euphoric thoughts of eating), Sonic answered...  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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