Beneath a black velvet awning and a red neon display of a naked wolfess laying back with "Velma's Shop" scrawled along her stomach, the front door of the tattoo parlor was a set of six stacked within one another, much like all the other size pools of chairs, tables, rooms, hot tubs, and even water slides to accommodate each and every waistline that could've tried to fit their rear through, and yet the smallest Velma could've scrounged up was still twice as tall as I was. I had to jump and reach to get my fingers to grab the handle, using every muscle in my body to push it open.
The walls built around the shop had all the grunge of a boxing pub, nailed together by weathered wood with paintings, ink sketches, or even more neon displays of common body decals hanging over the upper walkway, but they all still caged in the pep of a beauty salon with seven crisp red beauty chairs standing along the center of the room, each one facing a round beauty mirror lit by a bulb at the top of each arch. A faint buzzing sound could be heard that came from the front desk, which sat straight ahead between the door and a large, colorful mass sitting just behind, its sides pouring well free of either end of the counter.
Velma'd long been staring at the door since it'd began creaking open, but her pre-grumpy face fell just a little bit more when she saw my head come through. "She sent you down?"
"And may good morrow and fortune approach you on your daily endeavors as well, Miss Krueger." I remarked as I squeezed through, letting the door shut on its own behind me. "I assure you, your accommodations are more than appreciated, and shan't be taken in vain."
The edges of her mouth tensed in a soft growl, but then she put down the needles she'd been inspecting and pushed up off the counter with a grunt, slowly rising up off the two super-reinforced metal chairs that both kept her enormous buttocks afloat. Slowly, she rose up, up, up, and up, nearly doubling up in size until she was at a height big enough to bare her teeth down at roof of a house, and right now, she'd ungritted them to leer down on me. Even with those rare guests and workers alike that'd push their births and heights to the absolute extreme limits of what the resort could stretch around, Velma was still one with a body impossible not to pull in the eyes of anybody going by, particularly below her blubber-swaddled face, or anywhere else wherever her belly was laying.
Whatever part of her that wasn't dyed or needled with gallons of ink was left a pure white, which pretty much constituted everything along and above a pair of massive breasts using all their might to try and rip the black t-shirt she was wearing in half, but all that sat just under was a vast canvas of rich colors and linework. Even up close, every strand of fur was painted into a photorealistic scene of an armored Pegasus whose teeth were bared as she grappled with a snarling gryphon, standing before a coliseum flooded by a screaming audience of thousands, and the amount of ripe detail put in all the wrinkles or shadows on their expressions almost gave the illusion that the stomach it was all printed on was some massive crystal ball that perpetually was perpetually denting the floorboards of the ground in front of her, even if an occasional jiggle along the gloss shaved off that image.
She snapped her claws a few times, pulling me out from my staring. "Well, I've got a customer, and I sure as hell know that I'm not gonna be receiving any complaints tonight. Got it?"
"Mm hmm." I nodded.
"Yeah. Just relaying the facts."
Her hind paw came down on a button on the ground, activating a loud, motorized whir below us that tugged all the beauty chairs back towards the wall behind her. With the entire front half of the room clear, the path was open for a very lare panel in the wall at the very end to jut in and slide away, and from the shadows inside, a leviathan' s version of the seats rolled into its position at the very center of the floor.
"Damn...Who the he'll are we serving, Godzilla?" I asked as she tested the cherry picker's control, which she unfolded from the back cushion.
"Dunno. A ninety-footer, if I remember right."
Ah, great... Hearing the scales from Velma was pretty much hearing the percent chance of having a bad day with her.
...and it was coming soon. From somewhere outside, we both suddenly heard a heavy quake rumble through the floorboards and hanging decorations in the parlor, followed by a trailer of softer, but still loud and ominous set of footsteps trudging toward the door. Each of us went back to our spots, me going up into the cherry picker and undergoing to the front desk to prepare her own needles, and we both tried to brush around, trying look in the midst of our work as the door cracked open again...
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