Jackson came back from the gym to find a bakery box sitting at his doorway. Frowning, he bent down to check name and address on it. It was his name and his address.
“Idiots.” Jackson muttered. “I didn’t order this.”
He looked around, checking to see if any of the neighbors were watching. There was no way he was going to let anyone think that Jackson Whitmore cheated on his diet and workout regime. Satisfied no one would see him, he brought the box inside. There was a note written on the top of it.
We know you’re always at the gym,
working hard at staying slim.
So have on us a little treat,
there’s plenty more you need to eat!
It was more than a little suspicious. Jackson opened it, standing as far away as he could. It was an innocent, unassuming chocolate silk pie. There was a second note inside:
Dig in, enjoy, and eat away,
you deserve a few cheat days!
Jackson preened a little bit. This must be a gift from someone at the gym. He did work extremely hard to maintain his figure. It was about time someone noticed and they weren’t wrong – he did deserve to have a cheat day. He couldn’t remember the last time he had one.
He took a quick shower, toweling off and pulling on some designer jeans and a button-down shirt before heading into the kitchen. He took the box with the pie, a plate, knife, and a fork to the living room and settled himself down in front of the television. Jackson cut himself a slice and started mindlessly eating as he flipped through a couple of shows.
Jackson had very high standards of food. Having grown up with only the best and finest gourmet cuisine, and the money to sustain the habit, Jackson plainly refused to eat anything less than quality. Whatever bakery the pie was from, those chefs knew quality food. Jackson cut himself a second slice. And then a third.
He was so busy moaning softly, his eyes fluttering with each rich, chocolatey bite; he failed to notice the little gray blobs watching him. When Jackson reached for another piece, cursing under his breath when he found the tin empty, the creatures started cackling.
We are sure you have your doubts,
but we saw you pigging out.
Now the Munchies are here, not a moment too soon
so they can help you really balloon!
Jackson tried to leap to his feet. Instead, he belched and fell back into the couch. Just bloated he told himself, trying to ignore the way his toned stomach had puffed out to form a full, swollen gut.
“I don’t know what the hell you are, but I’m allowed a cheat day,” Jackson told them snippily.
One cheat day turns into seven,
and then you’ll be in a food-filled heaven.
“Um, no. One cheat day means just that. One. I have a figure to maintain.”
Go ahead and scoff,
if you really think you can work it off,
the Munchies will be very nice
and offer you another slice!
A few of the blobs crawled over with another pie.
“Is that a challenge?” Jackson snarled. The creatures only cackled.
“Fine.” He reached for the pie tin, setting it down on the space on his lap his belly did not take up, and grabbing the fork. “Why not? It is my cheat day. I’ll go the gym tomorrow and burn all this off.”
Sadly, we just don’t agree,
and very soon you’ll come to see
that life is better when gluttony is set free.
“I’m not letting myself go and I certainly will never get fat.” It was a less credible statement considering he was shoveling pie in his mouth as his tummy slowly rounded out. Jackson surprised himself by how quickly he finished it. Two pies in and he barely felt any more satisfied or full than he was after the first one.
“Happy?” Jackson huffed. “I finished it. Now leave me alone.”
Only two? That’s rather small,
here we thought you could eat them all!
The couch next to Jackson was suddenly filled with boxes of various pies. His mouth started watering with the different scents that started wafting towards him.
“I had enough.”
Then why don’t you take a break?
We’ve brought you plenty of protein shakes.
The Munchies pushed a jug of thick cream over to him, along with a filled glass. Jackson guzzled it down, then greedily grabbed at the jug and poured himself more. He sat back, bringing up a fist to stifle a belch.
“Fine. One – urp – more. That’s all.”
He leaned forward to cut himself a slice of the third pie. The button on his pants flew off, clattering against the tile floor. His gut surged forward, resting against his thighs. The Munchies started giggling.
“They were cheap pants. I knew I should stick to Armani.”
Once you finish all those pies,
they won’t make clothes to fit your size!
Jackson rolled his eyes. “I have a personal tailor.”
He continued plowing through the pies. The third pie slowly turned into his fourth, and then his fifth. The buttons on his shirts were desperately clinging on, huge gaps were visible between them as Jackson’s belly kept widening.
“Who makes these? Not very – ooof – filling.” he struggled to sit up on the couch, rocking back and forth to try to get the momentum to move. As his jelly jiggled with the movement, the buttons on his shirt gave up, flying off across the room. He gave up, resting the remaining pie on his swollen gut, which was so heavily stuffed it made a perfect shelf. Jackson finally felt like he was getting full, but there were only three pies left. Those stupid creatures had challenged him to finish them and he refused to be beaten by some stupid little balls of grease.
Another piece, are you sure that's wise?
Look at the size of your belly and thighs.
Jackson stubbornly kept eating, one hand having migrated to his belly, massaging it as he ate. “I told you,” he panted. “ – I can eat anything I want on an – urp – cheat day.”
Every bite was now followed by a moan or burp as he kept forcing more pie in his belly. His stomach was forcing to lean progressively further back against his seat, grunting and breathing heavily as he reached for more. When he had finished that one, he managed to swing his legs up so he was laying on his back. He wrapped his arms around his enormous belly, planning on sleeping off the massive bloat.
Way to go! You’ve finished eight!
It’s made quite an impact to your weight!
There was a sudden knock at his door. The Munchies eyes lit up.
“Ignore it.” Jackson muttered. “No one is seeing me like this.”
We wonder who is at your door
Maybe they’ve heard you’re greedy for more!
They want to see the greedy slob
who’s made eating his new job!
The Munchies all jumped on top of his gut, jostling Jackson’s poor, swollen belly. He belched, loud enough for the person at his door to hear.
“Jackson?”
“Come in!” The Munchies cried.
Who entered the room?
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
