Samantha struggled in her office chair, tugging and pulling and failing to get her belt to fit right, after yet another lunch of sampling her own company's food. She gave one more great tug, and a single button burst off the shirt that was miserably restraining her rotund tummy.
She finally couldn't deny it anymore; since she had become C.E.O. of Porky Pie's Piggy Drive, literally the greasiest, fattiest, meatiest fast-food chain this side of the Mississippi, she'd gotten fat.
Well, that's not exactly the case. She wasn't full-blown fat. She was merely chubby, and right now a lot stuffed. But just a month ago, she was the skinniest rail in the fast food biz (by a considerable margin) and she was used to strutting around her office in form-fitting suits, miniskirts, and the like. Now, wearing the same suit a month later, seams were bursting and buttons were flying.
"Uuuuuuuuuuugh," she groaned, slumping dejectedly in her chair, licking her finger clean of Porky Pie's new sauce. About three weeks ago, her Research and Development Dept. came to her with a new sauce recipe. Loaded with chemicals, only most of which were identifiable. At first, they'd said it would be more filling, yet make people crave the food more. Sweet, sounds good, she'd said. She'd green-lit the recipe immediately, and soon almost every menu item had it. Profits rose. Heck, even she loved the stuff. But then, Research and Development came back saying that there were... side effects to the sauce that they weren't aware of at first. It didn't affect most people, just... Ones who ate the food a lot. She'd ignored them, because damn this sauce was amazing.
She considered getting up to get more food... But then she remembered, that's what secretaries are for. She ordered more food to be taken to her office, for "quality control purposes", then reclined, releasing a horrendous belch.
She was glad she was alone in her huge office.