Remy, intoxicated with the scent, decided that, just to be sure, he should test another one. They were surprisingly easy to make, and took little time to cook, and, as soon as the second incarnation of Remy's cake came, it was immediately devoured, by Remy. Oh, this was his best recipe ever! He HAD to make more!
The hours went by quickly...
By sundown, Remy was still eating, somewhere around cake #25, and it showed. His rodent body was now the shape of, well, Remy's corpulent brother, Emile, and then some. His belly stuck out, bloated, jiggling, and sagging, slightly obstructing his view of objects on the floor, like his feet. His behind had slowly begun to swallow his tail, which even had a bit of adipose on it. His limbs were bloated, and he wasn't able to move them as easily as he used to, earlier in the morning. He weighted about four pounds easily, where as most rats weighed one. Though, besides resembling a furry bowling ball, Remy didn’t seem to mind…as long as the fat on his body didn’t stop him from preparing the cakes and getting them from the oven. As he continued his feeding frenzy, Remy felt his eye begin to droop….that was a good sign, he had watched, and, if his food was particularly good, the patrons of Le Ratatouille always seemed to seem drowsy after eating. Well…maybe he’d better finish off the cakes…but….wow, he was tired, soon, his eyes closed…and he forgot that he was in the middle of his greatest meal…
When Remy woke up, he found...
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