As Matt hurtles along, a part of his brain which is usually hidden is busy admiring the two boy-mountains in front of him. Their guts must be twice as big around as his Dad’s, he thinks - they actually hang down in front! His fervent appreciation of the two fat-gutted teen behemoths in front of him distracts him so much that Matt collides with the bigger prefect’s gargantuan gut!
“Brace for impact!” Matt hears just before he collides with staggering mound of Prefect flab. At the last millisecond, his brain tries to stop his speeding body, but it takes a lot to stop a speeding fat boy - especially one who’s not used to running. Matt’s bouncing belly connects with the far more massive paunch of the Prefect, and the two compress enormously, like heavy-duty shock absorbers. Matt has a momentary vision of a grin of surprise on the face of the the Prefect, before the rubberiness of the two bellies pushes him back again. Fortunately, the Prefect’s preponderant mass helps his body absorb the impact of a speeding Matt and stay upright, but Matt is not so lucky; as the lighter guy, he bounces back from the enormous impact and falls on his substantial butt.
“Where ya going so fast, little guy?” the other Prefect asks as he offers Matt a fattened hand to help him up. “Thank goodness Fats here has such a good front bumper, or you’d both have fallen down!” he adds, patting the bigger Prefect on the side of his gigantic gut. “You okay, Fats?”
“Fats?” asks Matt, getting up to his feet. “Is that your real name?”
“No, my real name’s Farrell,” replied the bigger Prefect, “but I’m been ‘Fats’ since I was a little kid.” He laughs and his massive belly shakes up and down as he bounces a meaty fist off its side. “I don’t know if it’s obvious why...” he adds, as his huge grin lifts his fleshy cheeks and lights up his face.
“Nah, it’s not at all obvious, is it, newby?” remarks the other Prefect ironically. He bounces a padded hand off Fats’ massive frontal protuberance. “Nothing about old Fats here even suggests that he’s fat, hey? So,” he continues in a more serious vein to Matt, “why were you running? It’s unusual behavior here at OSB, running.”
“Well, I was in the office, and this big cook-guy came in and said he had a ‘special treatment’ for me, and I’ve heard what private schools do to newbies, so....so,” Matt hesitates, choking up in the presence of these two colossally fat authority figures, “I don’t wanna be hazed, so I ran!”
“Hazed?” says the smaller Prefect, “Oh, we don’t do that here!” at the same time as the bigger Prefect says, “Oh, Pots - he looks ferocious but he’s harmless. He always wants to feed up the new students. They all look skinny to him!”
“Oh,” says Matt, disentangling the two statements. “So, should I go with him?”
“It’s up to you,” replies Fats. “If you do say yes, you might want to put on some more comfy clothes first - those pants look a little tight!” he adds, one chubby hand gesturing towards Matt’s size 44 dress twills.
“Yeah, I was wondering about that,” says Matt. “My dad sent me with dress pants, shirts and ties, but you’re in shorts and t-shirts? Does that mean I don’t have to wear a shirt and tie round here?”
“Nope,” says the smaller Prefect, “we only wear dress shirts and pants on dress occasions - and the school provides them, since growing boys like us grow through the sizes so quickly - last year I outgrew my pants three times!”
“And again over the summer I bet!” laughs Fats.
“Yep.”
“So...what’s your name, newby?” asks Fats. “Can’t keep calling you newby.”
“I’m Matt.”
“And I’m Tor,” says the smaller Prefect.
“So, as Tor says, we only wear dress shirts and pants on dress occasions - the rest of the time we’re in these!” Fats says, hoisting up his massive fat arms to show off the dark blue t-shirt. He leaned back, and his mammoth gut rose slightly, exposing more of the navy blue shorts. “They’re better to eat in.”
“Oh,” says Matt, the idea of clothes to eat in being a new one.
“Yeah, the t-shirts are cut loose and, look, the shorts have a stretch waistband!” As he speaks, Tor reaches around the front of his own generous gut and grabs the waistband of his shorts. He gives a pull, and the shorts stretch before him. Matt realises that the navy shorts are actually fleece warm-up shorts! “There’s lots of room in here for a meal - or three.”
“But I didn’t bring any of those,” Matt remarks. “My dad figured private school meant shirt and tie.”
“That’s OK,” says Fats, “the office can supply them cheap - they’ll write your parents and bill ‘em. Or you can swap a set of dress pants for a set of fleece...”
“Guess I should head back to the office,” says Matt, feeling a bit happier and more at home than before. “It would be cool to wear fleece to school! Maybe I’ll see the cook again.”
“Yeah, this time take him up on his offer!” exhorted Tor.
Matt turned to go, but turned back. “Can I ask you something?” he said, looking at Fats.
“Sure,” says Fats.
“Are you the biggest guy here?”
Fats replies,....
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