"Uh...breakfast time, Apples!"
So long ago was it since that phrase was something that lit up the Sweet Apple Acre's house upon speaking, once a warm, welcoming embrace to the sun rising on a new day. Nowadays, it felt cold and sterile in Applejack's lungs with every utterance that came to pass, having turned to a taunting motto of the world they now resided in.
Apple Bloom was gone, probably somewhere off with her friends; bless her soul, she would be spared another day. Applejack was more than glad to stand in her stead, anything to give her sister an occasional whim of freedom, but she still felt a knot travel down her throat as she gave a nervous gulp, eyes jittering in fear as she stared up at the ceiling, ears swiveled and ready to dart towards the telltale sound.
It was just as she'd set the last plate down that it came, as though the owner had long been wide awake, counting through every clink on the table to make sure that every single plate in the house was laid. Truth be told, Applejack almost doubted that every plate in the kitchen would even be enough, even when every single one was piled up with enough food to pop a pony's buttons with thanksgiving dinner, and the red tablecloths was almost totally concealed as the plates came close to overflowing over the edges, such little room left that it looked like one would fall enough with enough of a shake.
Something that Applejack came to fear would happen when a great weight from above planted itself on the floor, with any of the walls below creaking under the strain. It came again, transforming into a set of footsteps that creaked every single floorboard in the house, not just the ones for his room maneuvering towards the steps leading to the family room. Applejack wilted as she saw something red stomp down on the topmost step, and she stepped back behind the table, lest she get in the way, should he charge upon seeing. She forced a smile as a great, wide wall of denim pushed its way against the jagged edges of the doorframe, or what remained of the doorframe, the edges long ago having been torn a few extra feet wider. It was the same every morning, the hole widening out just a little bit more with every trip Big Mac made to breakfast, and this time around, his head took some of it apart as he rammed his gigantic body right through the "meager" opening, the warm smile never flinching from his lips from the familiar scent of breakfast.
With every meal, less and less did Big Macintosh seem like Applejack's gentle giant of an older brother and more like some demon of gluttony that had taken him as its vessel, his face but a caricature of his former self as it sat upon such a wide, paunch-rounred head. Standing in at nine feet tall, there didn't have to be a contest to tell that he was the absolute biggest pony in all of Ponyville, even if it weren't already for the fact that he was several feet wider than the very table he was licking his lips at, the shapely mass of his body dominated by that of his stomach. Covered in a giant set of overalls that only a fashion genius' mastermind could fathom, it posessed a robust orb in shape by the oversized amount of fat and muscle packed inside, devoid of any rolls or cellulite as it staunchly laid upon a wide expanse of floor in front of his hooves, even when he was standing at full height.
"Uh...Mornin', Big Mac!" Applejack uttered in the vain hope that he would respond, that he'd acknowledge her, anything to remind her that he knew she was family, but all he gave was a flick of the air as he trudged over to the table. Really, it was a long time since he'd spoken anything aside from demands for more, never showing any emotion aside from sheer want.
With no chairs left in the house to fit his gigantic behind, he sat right on the floor, the front of his belly wedged against the lip of the table. He wasted no time reaching in, not letting his own midsection act as a barrier as he grabbed for anything edible before him and brought it to his eagerly awaiting mouth. He bit straight into trays of apple cobbler without use of a fork or knife, and hollowed it out in a matter of three large bites before licking the glass clean. The same went for a pile of hay bacon fashioned from four entire packs all fried together, with Applejack watching the twenty bits worth of hay-meat vanish from existence, all being sucked into the black hole that was his body.
As it was for the next plate. And the one after, and the one after that, all the same. Just eat, and eat, and eat, never satisfied, with no restraint...
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