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Fat To The Future
By Sasha Steele

"Come on, Lisa, one little cheeseburger is not going to make you fat," Marty snapped, annoyed at her for being so obstinate. As it was Lisa hardly ate anything at all and now, with the prom just around the corner, she had become obsessed with the idea of becoming prom queen. She was skinny, too damn skinny as far as he was concerned, but what really irked him was that now she bitched when he ate in front of her.

"Ya right, like I'm sure that Jennifer Warrens is scarfing down cheeseburgers as we speak," Lisa said sarcastically, adding, "Sometimes I think you are against everything that I want, Marty." Hands on hips, Lisa adopted her 'better than thou' pose, which Marty hated. Jennifer Warrens was last year's prom queen and a top contender for this one as well. A cheerleader, blond, pretty, and popular herself, Lisa was still jealous of Jennifer.

"I hate that bitch," Lisa scorned, grudgingly thinking of Jennifer's thin body just as another girl that Marty knew walked into the burger joint. Rita Baron was short and fat. She had long thick light brown hair that she constantly fussed with, flicking it back over her shoulder or running her fingers through it. Her facial features were prominent though not overly large: big brown eyes, dark eyebrows, a full mouth. All taken together, Rita was pretty enough, a fact that hadn't gone unnoticed by Marty. "Hi, Marty," she smiled, passing by their table.

"Hi, Rita," he answered, his words still hanging in the air as Lisa turned her attack on an innocent party. "Don't speak to that fat cow when you're with me,” she vented scornfully, "It's embarrassing.” Rita overheard even as she slinked away, and Marty felt sorry for her. He felt embarrassed himself for being with Lisa, who was right now acting like a real bitch. But he said nothing; after all, Lisa was one of the most popular girls at school and she was his steady girlfriend. Still, Marty felt a little sick inside due to his lack of fortitude.

Needing a break from Lisa's constant bickering, Marty drove out to Professor Emmit Brown's house in the country. The little town of Sommerville had produced more than its share of important people: a US Senator, movie, media and sports celebrities; Emmit Brown wasn't among them. He was an eccentric genius and Marty genuinely liked him, although Lisa did not. "I don't like you always going out to that nutty professor's place either,” Lisa had told him not two days ago.

"Marty, Marty!” the professor hollered, his weak gruff voice coming out to meet him as Marty pulled in. "I've done it, it works!" His old eyes were wild, his longish white hair fluttering in the breeze. "That's great, Doc,” Marty said, not really paying attention, "Done what?"

“The time machine, Marty, the time machine - it works!” he said excitedly, going on to explain how the threshold transponder array projected a gate, but the time traveler had to accelerate past a hundred miles an hour to pass through it - that's why he bought the Delorian. "That's great, Doc," Marty verbalized, still upset with Lisa, "When ya leaving?"

Shaking his head, "No, no, I have to stay here to run things; you have to do it Marty,” the professor explained. "Oh well,” Marty thought, believing like everybody else that the professor was just nuts, "At least I get to drive a hot car.”

He got in - it was souped up with all sorts of weird gizmos - started it up and accelerated down the dirt road in front of Professor Emmit Brown's house.

The Delorian had sparked out and came screeching to a halt. Marty tried to get it started again, but it was dead. He hadn't driven very far, so he got out and headed back to the house. It was no longer there; neither was his own car. Confused, Marty walked into town. It took some time and several perplexing encounters before he finally woke up and read the signs. "Doc Brown isn't nuts, after all,” Marty told himself, "I really have gone back in time.” He found a newspaper, it was Friday, June the fifth, nineteen fifty.

"Yes!” Marty yelled, jabbing the air and thinking that the possibilities were endless. He entered Stanley's Deli, the same restaurant that they hung out at in his own time, and noticed that things hadn't changed much in fifty years. It was prom night; the popular girls were backstabbing as they jockeyed for position. One girl, MaryAnn, could well have been Lisa: pretty, thinnish, though wholesome looking. She was obviously vying for prom queen and looked annoyed at her boyfriend. Marty wondered if he was trying to fatten her up.

He had tried to get Lisa to eat more, hoping that she would put on some weight, and all she did was bitch. Secretly he wished Lisa looked more like Rita. Actually, as Marty now thought about it, he liked Rita a lot and again felt sick inside for not stopping Lisa from attacking her. Here in the fifties there weren't as many fat girls, but there were some. Just then, Marty saw a large beauty walk in; she must have weighed three hundred pounds, with shoulder length blond hair and a flowered patterned flowing dress.

She seemed a bit shy but, noticing him watching her, looked up and smiled. Her face was radiant. Marty blushed, slightly taken back; he felt the effect that this girl had on him in the crotch of his pants. The usual catty remarks had followed her in and Marty realized that it was the girls, not the guys, who seemed to be threatened by women of size.

No one knew him here in this time, he reasoned. "I can do whatever I want to,” he laughed and got up, walking over to the fat girl's table.

"Hi, I'm Marty," he said, introducing himself. "May I join you?" His actions had not gone unnoticed, especially by the girls, Marty being a good-looking guy and all.

"Sure, sit down,” she said holding out her chubby hand, "My name's Donna.” Marty took Donna's hand and felt a surge of electricity; he had always fantasized about being with a really fat girl and now at last he was.

They hit it off right away. Marty, with all his charm, was able to secure a date for the dance that night. But not wanting to be stuck in the fifties forever, he first had to find the professor. Remembering where Doc Brown had lived before, Marty got a ride out to his place. It took some amount of talk, but finally seventeen-year-old Emmit Brown (already an eccentric) was convinced.

They towed the Delorian to Emmit's uncle's driving shed, which doubled as Emmit's lab, and he began to effect repairs. In the meantime, Marty had a dance to go to and a big beautiful date to take to it. A comment by a particular lout who was not at all well liked about Donna's size was not unusual. What was unusual was the punch in the nose he got from her handsome charismatic date. Something else was unusual as well: Tom Wright - who happened to be standing there at the punch bowl at the time of the altercation and who also happened to be the prom queen's boyfriend - stepped in to help Donna out of the way lest she be injured by a flying fist.

What really pissed the prom queen off was that on an occasion where she was by all accounts the center of attention, her boyfriend spent an inordinate amount of time talking to the fattest girl in school. Later that very evening, Tom had the occasion to speak to Marty, admitting his feelings for Donna. At first Marty was jealous, but being a decent sort of fellow decided not to stand in the way if Tom was in fact sincere.

"It's just peer pressure,” Marty heard himself advising Tom, "Mostly caused from girls who are insecure and get all bitchy because they can't eat what they really want to.” He added, "You can't just be a coward and follow along; fight for what you believe in your heart,” and thinking of Rita, Marty couldn't believe he had just said that.

Emmit Brown had the Delorian up and running. They shook hands and Marty got in firing it up, accelerated to a hundred miles an hour and disappeared into the future. The Delorian came screeching to a halt in front of the professor's house. In real time Marty had only been away for two hours. Doc Brown was there with a million questions for which Marty had no answer. Finally settling down, the professor said, "By the way, Marty, Lisa's here looking for you; she's in the back.”

Marty hadn't noticed her car there at first. "How long's she been waiting?" he asked. "About an hour and she is some pissed off,” the professor told him. Lisa didn't much like the professor's house, but after her little tiff with Marty came out looking for him to make up, and now was getting angry again at having to wait for so long. She had her back to him when Marty entered the room - arms crossed, impatiently tapping one foot - and Marty couldn't believe his eyes.

Lisa's ass was huge; she must have weighed three hundred pounds. She was still wearing her school uniform, white blouse tucked into a short pleated gray skirt, blue knee socks - her bare thighs were massive. Marty just stood with his mouth fallen open as Lisa turned, short loose pleated skirt swaying like a curtain as it hung from her oversized stomach. "About time,” she snapped, "Lets go; I'm starving!” He stood there staring but said nothing. "Marty, you have to help me stuff myself before the dance; I don't want that bitch Rita to win again this year!" she said, adding, "Five hundred pounds - how did she get that big?”

Professor Brown looked over the Delorian to see if it was all right. Marty had taken a picture of Lisa out of his wallet to look at; he'd been going to end with her when he got back to his own time. He had forgotten it on the seat. The professor picked it up. "Marty,” he called, and looking at him asked, "Are you alright? Looks like you've seen a ghost.” He showed Marty the picture, "Is this what Lisa looked like before you left?" Marty shook his head. "Something's amiss; you've got to go back.”

"What do you mean, Doc?" Marty asked as Lisa again honked the horn for him to come. "Come on, I'll show you.” They went inside and the professor clicked on the TV flicking the channels around. "Is this how they all looked before you left?" he asked, referring to the women on the various television shows he clicked past. The shows were all the same, Marty noticed; the only difference was that the women in them were really fat, some of them absolutely huge. Marty looked pale and didn't feel well. "It's the effect of the altered time displacement,” the professor said. "You have to go back and stop yourself from doing whatever you did to change things.”

The horn honked again. "Get rid of her and I'll get the car ready; you'll have to hurry,” he said emphatically. Marty quickly drove Lisa home while she munched on chips and chocolate bars. He didn't want to change things back; the bulge in pants was evidence enough of that but something was happening to him and he knew that he had to. Dropping Lisa off, he sped away as she cursed him at the top of her lungs through town back to the professor's house.

He saw Rita Baron waddle out of Stanley's and almost smashed the car. She, too, still had her school uniform on, only it looked even sexier on her five hundred pound body than it did on Lisa's. Rita was arm in arm with Ryan Thomas, a popular jock at school. She smiled, raising a monstrously fat arm to give Marty a little wave. He waved back, wishing he didn't have to return back in time as he drove away.

The professor placed him minutes ahead of the first arrival, and Marty found himself waiting for himself to arrive back in the fifties. They both went to Emmit Brown and with parts sent back by the professor were able to fix the first Delorian in record time. The second Delorian was fading fast, so were the repair parts and the second Marty. With Marty driving and Marty in the passenger seat they headed back to the present.

Screeching to a halt in front of the professor's house, there was just one Marty who jumped out of the car to a barrage of questions from Doc Brown, which Marty couldn't answer. "Is she here, Doc?" he asked.

"Out in the back,” he puzzled. "How did you know?" the professor asked, scratching his head.

"It's a long story,” Marty said. "I'll fill you in later,” he said, hurrying into the back room. Lisa was still in her school uniform, her back to him, arms crossed, impatiently tapping one foot as he entered.

"About time,” she snapped, “Let's go; I have to get to the hairdresser's.”

Lisa was back to her old miserable skinny self and by the time he got to her place Marty had had enough. He broke off with her then and there. Lisa was devastated - like for a minute, but with plenty of guys waiting in the wings, she recovered fast.

Marty hurried over to Stanley's Grill. Rita was still sitting inside; she was by herself. "Hi, Rita, can I sit with you?'" She smiled, "Sure you can, Marty.” He sat; they talked; they went to the prom together.

Some time later, following Marty's lead, his best friend, a handsome jock, took up with Rita's friend, who was herself very large and beautiful. Others followed. Fat girls in Sommerville had become popular. Marty had changed the future after all.