"Are you sure about this?" the waitress said, reading and re-reading Wendy's order in disbelief. Her eyes darted from the gargantuan amount of pancakes she'd ordered to the normal-sized girl sitting in the booth.
"Yeah I'm sure," Wendy said. She'd received a special coupon for her 100th order at Greasy's Diner, giving her 50% off any single order. She decided that the best use for that coupon would be to order as many pancakes as she could possibly eat in one sitting. Stan was stingy with her salary, so she rarely got a chance to indulge like this.
"Good luck," the waitress said, shrugging. She brought the order to the kitchen. The staff had a mixed reaction, ranging from horrified, to impressed, to elated at how much money they'd make from a single order. They immediately went to work, gathering together the entire week's supply of pancake batter in one place.
"Alright, it's almost done," the waitress said hours later. Wendy had been occupying herself with her phone, and she'd barely even noticed that the time had passed. Once the sweet smell of fresh pancakes reached her nose, she couldn't stand to wait a second longer.
A single, short employee emerged from the kitchen, holding a plate of pancakes that was longer and wider than he was. It wobbled dangerously as he made his way towards her table. He plopped it down with a huff, and then scurried off, not wanting to be underneath it when or if it fell.
Wendy had a literal mountain of pancakes before her, taking up the entire width of the table, and nearly scraping the ceiling at its maximum height.
A second waiter came out. He looked more suited for heavy lifting, a broad, muscular bald man carrying a cauldron of syrup on his shoulder. He approached the pile, and turned the cauldron upside down, gently spreading the sweet nectar over the pile until it was evenly coated.
"Enjoy," he said, as the staff all tried to watch Wendy stealthily, to see if the young girl really could eat everything that she'd ordered.
"Time to dig in," Wendy said, stabbing a small pile of pancakes with her fork. She shoved the pile into her mouth, about five pancakes high, chewing it briskly before swallowing it in a single, massive gulp.
The pancakes formed a spherical lump in her throat, that moved down, down, down, until it landed in her stomach. Her belly bloated outwards noticeably. The sound of her shirt's fabric straining could be heard, but it was quickly overtaken by a far more intense noise.
*BWWWWWOOOOOOOOORP*
The ginger let out a tremendous belch, sending flecks of syrup flying from her mouth. The burp was intense enough to rattle the very foundation of Greasy's dinner. It was like an earthquake, strong enough to knock a waiter off his balance, causing him to drop a plate of hash browns to the floor. The noise echoed through the diner for several seconds. There wasn't a single customer or employee who hadn't heard it, or didn't know the source of the sound. All eyes were on Wendy, and the hillock of pancakes before her. Greasy's Diner wasn't a very upscale establishment. It was downright filthy, in fact, as the name implied, but ground-shaking belches were definitely over the line.
"Umph, excuse me," Wendy said, resting a hand against her churning stomach, her cheeks hot and pink with embarrassment. "I guess I picked up some bad habits from my family."
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