Martha had been in a funk. A serious one. Coming to accept the fact the Doctor wouldn't love her was hard, rather than facing this, she sat in her room in the TARDIS and ate. She dug her hand into a bag of chips, taking a handful and mindlessly put them in her mouth, chewing slowly.
It's not as if she cared how much weight she'd put on, given her fixation on romancing the Doctor. Since that wasn't happening, why should she care if her figure goes? Feeling her pants button strain on her stomach, Martha loosened her now-tight pants, letting a fair amount of fat roll out.
Finally standing up and taking a look in the mirror, Martha could safely say she'd put on about...
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