Barely containing your panic, you try to take a step toward the door, but instead only manage to swing one chubby leg forward and fall square on your bloated young belly. This is going to be tricky. And sweaty.
You manage to roll onto your fat-creased side, and with a lot of decidedly porcine grunting, you're able to heave yourself upright again. You have to stand for nearly a minute, panting and holding your gut as you try to find your new center of gravity. Finally, you lurch forward, belly first, swinging your leg out in a hobbling step to catch the force of your own blubber. A few more steps bring you to the door; you've got to go get some help, or at least an explanation!
Your progress up the dirt path out front becomes progressively faster as your body learns to adapt to it's new butterball dimensions. You eventually find yourself practically running, a lolloping ball of panting, sweating flesh careening through the tropical forest.You are surprised to find yourself smiling as you go faster, enjoying the feeling of all that fat bouncing around your stumpy new body, tubby legs pinwheeling furiously beneath you.
You nearly topple again when you realize your approaching a fork in the path though; strange since you don't remember one coming in. You're thankful it's marked at least:
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