Feeling a bit hazy from eating all the McD's food, Carly was rubbing her belly congently, which felt really good. Soon, the itis caught up with her, as she plopped down on the couch and slept. She dreamt the most bizarre, but wonderful, dream...
It was a normal day in her high school, as Ms. Briggs was taking attendance. When she called on Carly, however, the classroom heard thunderous footsteps, as Carly, looking like Mr. Creosote, walked in the room, but not before getting stuck in the doorframes. She was eating Butterfinger Crisps, at least five bars in each blubbery hand. Her stomach was so large that it was an inch away from where she stood to the desk up front. She had large fatty breasts resting on top of it, with three fat chins resting on them. Her butt was the size of two XL storage containers, which jiggled with every step. Her arms and legs were thick as logs. She walked in to sit down, while pushing desks out of the awy with her large gut. When she sat down, the desk creaked as if she sat on someone. While class resumed, Carly was still eating her candy, finishing off the Butterfinger Crisps, then pulling out more junk food out of he backpack; cheese curls, potato and torilla chips, peanut butter cups, twinkies, donuts, etc. Everyone paid no attention to her, as if it was a normal thing to them. After finishing her snacks, Carly's stomach growled in a tone, like a clock chime. Soon, Ms. Briggs stops her teachings and says, "Well, its that time again. Class, get the desserts out, it's feeding time." Everyone in the room brought out assortments of baked goods, such as cakes, donuts, pies, cupcakes, cookies, as Ms. Briggs brought out a crème brûlée the size of a small wedding cake. Carly grabbed as much as she could, and crammed it in her craw, smearing icing on her face, eating like she never ate in a year. As she was eating, the class was chanting, "Eat, eat, eat, eat, EAT, EAT, EAT!" Still gorging on the desserts, her stomach was bloating up like bread in an oven, splitting her shirt down the middle. The button of her jeans popped off, making her bloating belly droop down on the floor. Soon, it was time for the crème brûlée. She grabbed it out of Ms. Briggs' hands and just scarfed it down. Soon, it was all over. The bell rang, and...