The Chef of the Titans - by Irish Bard (~BBW, ~XWG, Eating)

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IrishBard

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~BBW, ~XWG, Eating - Upper-class woman takes on the Feast of the Titans.


The Chef of the Titans
by Irish Bard


(Author's Note: Alive, kicking, and posting a new story!)

Chapter 1


Anyone who was anyone knew about the Magician's Tower, a restaurant on the Los Angeles boulevard, overlooking the glamorous area of the city. It was one of the largest, and certainly the newest, restaurant to hit the city of angels- it had only come into town over the last two months- but it had already gotten a reputation for being able to fill even the most gluttonous patron and have the strangest and most exotic of dishes prepared from behind its walls.

This was all overseen by a certain Josef Kaplain, a pudgy man with long hair and steely eyes. Smelling of spices and strange herbs, it was clear that he was a chef of great reputation. However, there was something more about this man, as he always seemed to get his dishes just so, and never seemed to work up a sweat, despite being the only fully competent chef on the premises- except his assistant Sharla.


Sharla was a 20-something girl, from the Terokee tribe in the reservation, and enjoyed food, having gained something like 300lbs in the time she had stayed with Josef. With all the fat waitresses and waiters, Sharla was the biggest, but probably the most happy, as she bustled about the tables, merrily producing all manner of concoctions for people to try out. There was a history behind Josef, of his other assistants, though he never elaborated on that, strangely smiling to himself whenever he mentioned one of his other assistants.

This of course did not matter to Patricia Veronica Merrycane, who was sitting at a table, sipping a glass of red wine with her whipped dog of a husband next to her. All she saw was a fat man who claimed he could cook with an even fatter assistant Indian chef who had the nerve to come to her town with a restaurant. She smiled a shark smile; the two would not survive her next write up, not that anyone ever did. She got into the critic business the old-fashioned way: by being utterly mean... to everyone.

"Look at this place," she hissed. "It's a waste of space- and look at the decor, just look at it... Alfred, I'm talking to you!"


"Yes dear."

"Well?!" Her eyes could have frozen water at thirty paces.

"It's terrible dear, it's all terrible!" Alfred tried to sound like he meant it.

"It's run by two fatties, of course it's going to be terrible!" She spat the wine out onto the floor. "Oh, this is wretched stuff! How can this be the house red if it is this disgusting! Waiter!" She pretended to glance over the menu as the person who should have been a waiter came over.

"Hello, I'm Sharla and I'll be your chef for this evening."

"I didn't want the chef," sneered Patricia, "I wanted a simple waiter to yell at, but seeing as you're apparently even simpler than a waiter, I'll yell at you! Firstly, the house red is horrible and thus, I will not be paying for it..."

"Madam, surely..." Sharla was silenced when Alfred offered his wife's business card (to allow her to continue to critique without distraction).

"Secondly, I will not have my food prepared by you, as you'd probably eat it before it gets sent out, Miss Piggy McHippo! Thirdly... Wait. What on earth is this?"

"Oh that," Sharla said, regaining her composure "That's Josef's specialty. The Feast of the Titans. Basically, you can eat as much as you want until you feel full, whilst Josef shows off his full set of skills in preparing food."

"This is madness! You actually have a dish that shows off your chef's paltry skills, Blimpo?" Patricia almost laughed with derision.

"Well, yes."

"What an arrogant pair of lardbutts you two are," snarled Patricia, placing the menu down with delicate fingers, she declared her challenge. "Well, let's make this interesting. If I do end full up by the end of this meal, then I will write that this restaurant is fantastic and that all the fat sad losers should visit it. If I don't, then you pack up and leave, I write whatever I want and I don't pay for the meal! Deal?"

"Erm...."

"Oh, show some back bone, you ugly sack of blubber!" Patricia sneered.

"Ok then, Madam," Sharla said, smiling again, "and for sir?"

"Oh, well... erm... well... just a simple sandwich will be fine." Alfred looked at his wife as he said that.

"Very well then. Enjoy your meal." Sharla waddled back to the kitchen as fast as she could, her heart slowly sinking.


Josef was standing there, his face grim. Behind him, pots and pans were dishing out meals for all manner of tastes all by themselves.

"I saw what happened," he muttered to her. "Are you okay, Sharla?"

"You go," Sharla replied, close to tears. "What a horrible woman! It's okay, I'll be okay; I'll call for your backup. Go, Josef, take her down!"
 

IrishBard

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Chapter 2

"Welcome, madam, to the Magician's Tower, I am Josef Kaplain, the owner and head chef..." Josef let himself be cut off.

"Get on with it you useless sack of blubber," sneered Patricia, "I don't need to know your name, I'll forget it as soon as you leave town. Now prepare your pathetic meal for me."

"Madam," Josef said, with mock offense. "You wound me, thrice fold. Blubber for a chef is not useless, as it is a sign of a good cook. To forget my name is a grave insult, and to call my meal pathetic- have you not heard my moniker, the Chef of the Titans?"

"Why should I?" Patricia was starting to get a little bored with the theatrics.

"I come to cook for you, but first I ask you to turn back, as this meal may end your life."

"Seen it, heard it, get on with it!" Alfred jumped, and several patrons who weren't already staring began to.

Josef shrugged; oh well, another soul to possibly mark up for death. Out of the ground rose his cooking station and the table with Patricia and her husband on rose on a platform, surveying the restaurant.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Sharla said through the microphone, "We are about to demonstrate Josef Kaplain's Feast of the Titans. Please stay around, as we will be having special guests coming soon to help out whilst Josef is occupied."

"Spectacle over quality," muttered Patricia, "Black mark against you, we're not in Las Vegas."

Josef started to bring out his various tools of destruction. He smiled, rune inscribed knives, cleavers made from the bisento of an Oni, skewers dipped in the blood of Xerxes, ladles of the raven, all manner of Arcane cooking instruments.

Patricia was not amused.

"Those instruments do not look clean!" she exclaimed.

"They are the instruments of a cook, and the cook should decide when to clean his tools." His hands were already busy.

"First dish," he announced with a quick flurry; he presented a small plate to Patricia and on it sat some finely cut steak tartar. Patricia, somewhat mystified, picked up her fork and stabbed at it angrily. Josef smiled, and began to prepare more examples of fine cooking.

Patricia didn't notice this, as she bit into the food, the flavor exploded inside her mouth, blocking out all other senses and thoughts, with only one left: EAT!

"I'm not late, am I?" said Martha McEnnis, a calm girl, dressed up in traditional chef's wear. Her enormous, 500lb, body bulged out, covered in swirling tattoos, a golden brooch pinning back her long ginger hair.

"No, you're the first one to arrive," Sharla said. "I have to say, it's a pleasure to meet you, I've heard-"

"Well, I came as soon as I could," said Martha, smiling. "I haven't been having much success back home; not many people want traditional Celtic meals, so I came here. I'll get my stuff and head to my station." Picking up her basket of English herbs- sage, rosemary, thyme, chives and wild garlic- she hurried over to a raised cookery platform.

"Come on, Sharla, there are customers to serve!"
 

IrishBard

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Chapter 3

All eyes were focused on Patricia and her mad feast. She absolutely gorged her insatiable appetite on the meals Josef presented to her, fine salmon sushi, sardines with whipped pea puree, delicate eggs Benedict, proud pork escallops, and fresh bruschetta with chopped olives. Quite a lot of delightful food was devoured faster than anyone could say "heartburn".

As she ate, she grew. Already, it was clear that this woman didn't have size D breasts when she came in, nor did her arse sit quite so cushiony in her chair, or her belly peek out under her suit. Patricia was blind to these changes (Josef was planning to reveal it- just not yet), but everyone else refused missing this show.

* * *

"Don't you think we should, you know, tell her?" Kelli asked her boyfriend, Mark, as they sat at the table together.

"I don't know, Kel," Mark replied, scratching his chin, "I mean, she was kind of a bitch to the assistant chef... and she did ask for it."

"Suppose your right," Kelli said, smiling. "Well, let's sit back and watch."

"Maybe I can take your order to take your mind off the event?" asked a waitress with "Milli" on her name tag.

* * *

"Here she is, the lady of sweet Hetailia!" the microphone out front bellowed.

"It's okay, Maria, you don't need to do any kind of intro." Sharla hoped that was the right thing to say to the latest arrival.

Maria, a busty 500lbs beauty with a voice of an angel and dressed so any man would turn, sulked a bit- oops. Sharla patted her on her back. "Hey, if you wanted to make an entrance, you shouldn't have come in through the back door."

"Very well, just don't...oh no!" Craning her neck round, Maria groaned at the floury handprint on the back of her black dress. "Tell me what you were making?"

"Pizza crusts; a family over at table 6 ordered a family pizza."

"American pizzas are an insult to the old country," muttered Maria, "leave it to me, I will show them a real pizza, as well as some home-made pasta. I also have some fine olives, black as the night, marinated in herbs... Oh, and I've got some wonderful gnocchi if anyone would be willing to try..."
 

IrishBard

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Chapter 4

"Ok, I'm here!" said the Indian SSBBW as she waddled into the room, smelling of spices and smiling politely. Shilpa Singh started to unpack her equipment. "Oh my, they've set up the situation well!"

"Err... yeah," Sharla said. "Erm, you're not going to use that, are you?"

"Oh, what, this?" Shilpa waved at the various vials of flower seeds. "Oh yes, it adds such a rich scent to the food I prepare. Believe me; nothing makes a stomach rumble and a mouth water like the fresh hint of jasmine wafting out the top of a expertly made curry."

"Sorry," Sharla said, "It just seems a little, well, unorthodox."

"Josef hasn't told you much about the rest of his apprentices, has he?" Shilpa said, looking at Sharla over the top of her glasses. "Trust me, love, some are far more bizarre than using a few flowers."

* * *

"Ok, Sally, have you ever tried curry before?" asked Richard Jones of his daughter. A family meal had turned into a spectacle that no-one saw coming. A new chef arriving every half of an hour in order to fill in for the head chef, with all manner of new meals being added to the menu.

Exotic, yes; good for having the kids out- not very.

"Yes!" replied his daughter, defiantly, "I have, and I liked it! so there!"

"Sally, sticking your tongue out at daddy isn't going to get you what you want," Marissa was better at handling the kids. Timothy seemed quite happy with whatever was going, and Claudia had found food she liked and wasn't questionable. the main difference was that those two had passed through puberty, and were able to make decisions for themselves.

Sally sulked. Marissa turned to the waitress- her tag read Rachel, "Erm... could you tell us how spicy "Prawn Madras Curry" is...?"

"Well, it's very spicy, I must say," Rachel said. "Madras is probably one of the spiciest; well, maybe you might want to start her off with something a bit less, well, hot."

"I can handle it!"

* * *

Patricia was not slowing down, even though the meals were starting to get bigger. She polished off the wok-full of noodles, as well as an omelet the same shape, size and density of a brick. She plowed through the plates of pasta, and the piles of puri-puri chicken. She gleefully guzzled the gallons of grape wine, gazpacho soup and green Thai curry.

"Dear," said her husband. "Erm, maybe you should, erm, stop, I mean, you don't..."

"Shut up, I'm eating!" she snarled; she was determined not to lose this challenge.

"Dear, you don't want to ruin your figure." Alfred looked worried.

"Shut up, you miserable worm, or I'll eat you too!" Patricia roared.

Josef knew that the charm was working... well, like a charm. He smiled.
 

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Irishbard, you are the energizer bunny of authors :)

Please continue, it's been good so far.
 

IrishBard

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Chapter 5

Mark reached around his girlfriend's waist, in order to bring her closer to him, and was surprised to find there was slightly more of it than he realized. Maybe he was hallucinating slightly, after all, both of them had had a lot of wine, but, was his girlfriend slightly more...fluffy? it was more noticeable considering Kelli's extremely hard stance on health, so going from athletic snob to...chubby and cuddly, seemed odd.

To be fair, he thought, he probably needed to go to the gym after this to, as he felt rather heavy and sluggish as well. As his hand moved unconsciously to his stomach, it came out a bit more than he remembered.

"Markie," Kelli mumbled, squeezing up to him, giving his belly a good fondle. "Please, don't lose this."

"Don't worry, Kelli girl," Mark said, giving her burgeoning hips a squeeze, "I don't think I will soon."

"I *chomp* am *crunch* not *gulp* going *chew* to *swallow* be *swig* beaten *bite* by *rip* some *stuff* cheap *pluck* knock-off *wolf* chef *nom-nom-nom*!"

"Yes, dear..." Alfred said, watching his wife gorge herself on increasingly bigger meals. Surely she should have realized something fishy was up when she was served a whole manta ray (perfectly prepared, with chives, garlic and a white wine sauce, but still a manta ray!), but no- she kept on eating, and with that, she kept growing.

Already the steel chair was groaning under her weight, which Alfred couldn't even begin to guess, and he'd had to move over several times to not be an annoyance. Her suit, of course, was in tatters; only her underwear kept her decent and Alfred could have sworn she had eaten one of the buttons.

There his wife sat, huge, wobbling, messy from all the food, still thoroughly bad tempered and still thoroughly hungry. Her feasting didn't slow as he leaned over to talk to Josef.

"Please, Mr. Kaplain, what have you put in the food? I mean, nothing illegal I hope?" he asked quietly.

"You are accusing me of spiking my meals, Mister Merrycane?" Josef arched a brow.

"No, no, good lord, no, it's just, well..."

"You're worried about your wife," said the chef as he idly moved the pasta over and around the meatballs before he put the mozzarella on. "Don't worry, she's in good hands."

* * *

"Look, general, I've told you I'm on urgent business. I don't care who's invited, you have other servants, get them to cook!" Jun May snapped her phone off and smiled at Sharla.

"Bosses, eh?" she put the phone back and looked at Sharla.

"Wow, you're a high flier," returned Sharla. "Why come here?"

"Well, to get back to my roots, mainly," said the enormous Chinese chef. "I take it Rika hasn't arrived yet? Oh good, I don't want to talk to her about that cult she has. Anyway, to business. Oh, don't worry yourself, Sharla, I know my way around the place, it's just like the set up we had in Hong Kong…."
 

IrishBard

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Chapter 6

"Erm...ma'am, would you mind, erm... standing up so we can..."

Patricia waved the waiters away, who shrugged and hurried away with the reinforced bench of a chair. Josef nodded; it was time for Patricia to have a good, long look at herself. Patricia continued to wolf down her food, it was only when she was reaching for the whole wild boar roasted in cherries and garlic did she stop.

The creak was louder than anyone expected, and it echoed through the restaurant, before the muffled yelp and the crash. There was a ragged cheer as Patricia looked around, bleary eyed.

"What the--"

"Honestly, I hadn't expected that to break for another good 25 minutes," muttered Josef. "Maximum payload was 650lbs and... well. Yes, that is well and truly smashed, my dear."

"What are you on about, how could it!" Patricia looked down at her body. "OH MY GAWD, WHAT THE FU--"

* * *

"So, what exactly is...erm...'Metal cuisine?'" asked Sharla of Ophelia Snogrigson, the enormous gothic SSBBW gliding into the restaurant.

"Oh, lots of red meat, cooked in wine, vodka, gin... yeah, lots of alcohol based stuff," Ophelia replied, shrugging her shoulders. As she did so, a bass guitar fell out of her cloak. "Oh, not again!"

"Do you carry a complete band around with you?" asked Sharla, looking at her in surprise. "And... Jeez louise, girl, what are you doing with that?" She pointed to a handle half-hidden in Ophelia's cloak.

"Oh this?" said Ophelia, drawing out a long sword, "Cooking on it. Ancient Scandinavian tradition, always cook with the weapons you use in battle."

"But that was the day when they still had longboats!"

"Hey, if you're worried about what I bring to the table, you'll be terrified of what Rika, Joanna and Ukila bring to the table, Sharla."

* * *

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME!" screamed Patricia. "Whatever it is, I'll sue, I mean it, and I'll run you out of town the old fashioned way, by bankrupting you!"
"Please, please, Patricia," Josef said, "this is what you ordered, this is what got. A meal fit for the titans, and by the sounds of things, some-one isn't full, yet."

"I am not eating another bite of your meal, you bastard!" spat Patricia, "my force of will will...will..." The grumbling of her stomach, like the ancient rumble of a volcano, was distinctly loud. "I will not be... swayed by...the smell...of...of...of..."

"I can do this all evening," smiled Josef, waving a slice of pizza in front of the mesmerized Patricia's face. "But, my dear, you have still to finish the meal, and I doubt that stomach of yours is willing to hold back another second."

The two waiters sighed and brought the bench-chair over for the enormous Patricia to sit on. She barely filled up a third of it, but the flab on her butt oozed through the end, with her underpants and bra finally giving out.

"Can we have a bib to protect this woman's decency?" called out Josef.
 

IrishBard

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Chapter 7

Richard surveyed his family.

Marissa, Claudia and Timothy were all playing cards, the bill was paid, and the meal was eaten; the tantrum earlier thankfully not setting the tone for the dinner afterwards. Sally herself was sleeping- it was 10:30, way past her bed time, and she was passed out on a full stomach with her head propped against her dads leg.

"Marissa, I think we had better go," he said, motioning down to Sally.

"Ok," his wife said, nodding. "It's a school night, and we need to get back before the traffic gets bad." She started gathering their things.

"Speak for yourself, mom!" Claudia said, looking at the enormous woman on the plinth, "I'm waiting to see the huge one explode!"

"Claudia, that's revolting!" Marissa scolded her daughter quietly. "Human beings don't explode... At least, not from eating too much, surely."

"I don't know," Claudia said, with a morbid smile. "There is some stuff on the internet pertaining to..."

"I think we might want to get out of here," said Timothy, hurriedly pushing his sister to the exit. "You know, to get out of the line of fire. Just in case."

Richard shrugged as he followed his family, carrying the little one.

"I love you, dad," Sally murmured in her sleep.

"And I love you too," her dad replied.

***

"Miss Merrycane, are you sure you don't want help with that?"

"Get....stuffed....!" said the half ton of woman, no longer able to reach the table, her belly in the way, and her wobbling arms were far too short.

"Well, my dear, maybe if we turn..." Alfred started.

Patricia refused to wait, and lunged at the table, entirely resting on her stomach, leaving her rump to soar high into the air. Several well-to-do women fainted at what was displayed.

"Oh Patricia, that is the limit!" Alfred jumped up in a rage. "Until now, I might have--"

"Fine! Leave! You dreadful, ungrateful little cockroach! You should worship me; I am your queen, and you're nothing but a termite under my heel! But you're not fit to serve! Go, you ugly rodent!"

Alfred ran out of the restaurant, angry beyond reason.

"He's totally whipped," muttered Josef to a nearby waiter whilst roasting the twelve geese for the malcontent eating machine.

***

"Hello, Sharla-Chan..." said the vast Japanese woman as she walked calmly, almost sleepily, into the main kitchen. Dressed in a kimono and carrying a paper lamp, she walked steadily and slowly towards Sharla, her followers in various masks of Oni followed behind.

"Rika, please, those cultists of yours freak me out!" Sharla was staring at the cultists and their baskets of…. whatever.

"My apologies, Sharla-Chan." Rika bowed her head before turning and ordering the cultists away with a small gesture. "I hope my station is set up; we were out fishing when you called, and we caught some wonderful food. Sharks, octopi, blow fish, eel- all ready to be prepared."

"Wait, wait, wait... Sharks... Octopus? Please tell me you confirm that stuff with Josef!" Sharla's eyes were wide still.

"Of course, Sharla-Chan, Josef-Sama always knows what I cook, he knows what everyone cooks. Especially those of us who have the honor of being his eldest apprentices."

Sharla looked as the cook from Japan walked away, wondering what she meant. One of the eldest of Josef's apprentices, what did she mean by that statement? Come to think of it, was Josef even human?
 

IrishBard

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Chapter 8

"Wait... wait... wait... you can't bring those in here!" Sharla exclaimed.

"Sharla, it's my living!" Ukila, the big, beautiful Balinese chef said, as she wrestled a crocodile into the back kitchen, six more following in her wake. "I specialize in cooking reptiles. Hey, listen, you couldn't help me move my snake cage, could you?"

"Snake cage! What sort of snakes do you have?!"

"Oh, I brought some of the tasty ones," Ukila looked underneath the blanket. "I've got pythons, cobras, constrictors, vipers, maybe a grass snake... wait, scratch that, the others are eating the grass snakes. I've also got salamanders, tree frogs, frills, blue tongues, skinks..."

"And, they're all edible?"

"Oh yeah- in fact, they're delicious, just as long as you prepare them right." Ukila smiled widely.

* * *

"It's Ok, girls, I'm buyin', have whatever you want." the Rich guy said, Jasmine, smiled, this was perfect.

"are you sure?" she asked.

"Yeah, c'mon, enjoy yourself."

"Absolutely sure?" asked Jade. Mellorine and Natasha looked over at each other and giggled.

"Yeah, knock yourself out!"

"Ok then." Jasmine smiled at the waiter "one of everything on the menu."

"Yeah... wait, what--" the rich guy stammered.

"And keep the wine flowing!"

"Now, hold on ladies!" the rich guy looked around. "I mean, you're models, shouldn't you be worried about your figure, and your diet?"

"What are you talking about?" Jade laughed, "Oh wait, now I remember- yeah, we are models, but we're trying to break it into the plus-sized scene by tomorrow. They said this was the best place to do it!"

"But you'll ruin me!"

"Jimmy, sugar," Mellorine grinned, "You hardly have an important position here, as you sell cocaine to the stars, whilst Natasha works as a part-time cop. I'd watch what you say."

The rich man sulked whilst his grinning wardens waited for their meals.

* * *

"Aaaand now, she's up to the ton mark," Josef smiled, preparing to serve the camel to the mass of wobbling gluttony in front of him. She was sitting now on a extremely large mattress, that still wasn't containing all her bulk. He sighed happily, and returned to preparing the hippopotamus stuffed with dates.

This woman was going to probably make to the end of the challenge, and defeat herself in the process. He was rather happy with this challenge, as everywhere he went someone came to challenge him. Moreover, whoever challenged him about his cooking always ended up regretting it.

Maybe he should start on the dessert now.
 

IrishBard

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Chapter 9

Kelli was getting very large now, Mark admitted, although his size was nothing to be sneezed at either. Both were in the regions of mid to high 200's, though it was unquestionable that Kelli was bigger.

All those years dieting seemed to have caught up on her in terms of appetite. Mark had been large to start with, most of it muscle, but he now had an unmistakable potbelly, whilst Kelli was now comfortably fat all over, and she reveled in her new curves.

"You know what we should do?" she said, smiling at her boyfriend, "Let's get back to my place and have wild hot fat sex there!"

"You sound like you're really begging for it," Mark smiled, moving in close and whispering. "Why wait for the house, we could do it in the car?"

"You saucy bastard!" Kelli teased, before the two started to shuffle out of the booth. The waiter helped a bit by moving the table back a bit.

"Have a nice night, you two," he said cheerfully.

Kelly nodded and smiled, and so did Mark; they both had a kind of thankful but glazed smile, as though they had a hand shoved in each other's pants.

***

Joanna lumbered through, 600lbs of dusky African beauty.

"It's been a while since I cooked here!" she said with a booming voice. "I mainly send my meats and produce to the restaurant, when Josef asks for it."

"So that's where the hippos come from," Sharla said, smiling. She hovered around this massive master of the culinary arts. "Any special set up you need?"

"Oh, just a campfire, preferably a spit roast as well- can you get it up?"

"Sure, just as long as you tell me who Josef actually is?" Sharla tried not to plead.

"He hasn't told you himself? Doesn't surprise me, oh well. You've gathered this is a magical restaurant, right? If the flying cutlery and the meals that cook themselves hadn't tipped you off... hang on, Josef looks like he's having a bit of trouble out there!"

***

Josef strained under the weight of the cake.

This was a monster cake- 7 stories, chocolate (white, milk, and dark), vanilla, butterscotch, caramel, peanut butter, and cream icing an inch thick- everywhere. The whole thing weighed about 300lbs, and it had to feed the 3400 lbs mammothian woman as a final dessert. The pastries and tasters weren't helping her patience any; she wanted the cake now. Josef tried to shift the enormous load, but...

"Hold on, Josef, I've got the other end."

"Great, thanks, Sharla!" Josef would have smiled at her, but the massive sweet was in the way.

The two moved the cake to Patricia. She took one look at it and dived in. A full 15 minutes of gulping, biting, and chewing, slurping the icing and ice cream, gorging on cake and cream, pigging out on sugar and sweets.

And then the titanic guest rolled back with an enormous thud. The shockwaves were felt throughout the restaurant. Patricia Veronica Merrycane seemed to be in a daze for a bit, before putting on the wickedest of smiles, and saying.

"Not quite full yet."
 

IrishBard

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(And MAOR you shall have!)

Chapter 10

Everyone was stunned at what the titanic woman had just said, except Josef.

She had gone from an average sized LA top society woman into a veritable mountain of flesh and flab. Cellulite and stretch marks all over her body; her belly almost a separate entity to itself. Her breasts sagged down like beanbag chairs, her massive rump lifted her off the ground, and about five chins obscured her neck from view.

How could this woman not be full?

Even the four girls who had eaten their way through the restaurants' entire menu (and for their efforts, looked like angels in the eyes of FAs everywhere) stopped eating, their mouths agape at this blob of womanhood wanting more.

"You've lost the bet!" yelled Patricia for cruel joy. "I've won, I've won, and you're out of business! I can slander this restaurant to the high heavens, and you can't do a damn thing about it!" The audience she had attracted where less concerned with what she was saying, but more with the vast amount of jiggling on her body. "What do you say to that?"

"Forgive me, madam, how?" The direction of the audience's attention was not, however, lost on Josef.

"By writing it, for everyone to read, you stupid little man!"

"And how will you do that?" Josef floated up to her on a little cloud, Sharla gaping in astonishment beneath him. "I really, really doubt you have the energy, the willpower, or even the possibly of writing anything now. Try putting your hands together- or at least close enough to write."

Patricia tried. It was a lot harder than she expected. She finally managed to put her arms as close as they would go... 3 feet from each other.

"And I doubt even the most expensive of customized keyboards will be able to fit those chubby digits, madam," Josef said, smiling. "More importantly, how are you going to get out of here in order to write this report up? By the looks of things, all your leg bones will disintegrate, trying to carry your..." he stopped, muttering to himself, "3874lbs form? I suppose you could have gotten a forklift, most undignified, and a lorry, again, very undignified, to carry you home and you could work from there for the rest of your life, writing rather sad novels. But your ticket to that..." he thumbed at the door again.

Patricia looked at him with a glare that could only be replicated by a massive super volcano. Full of murderous hate and bile, she tried to strike Josef, but to no avail, all she could do was jiggle angrily.

Josef smiled, "Then I'll whisk you away to my private island," he said with a smile, as the enormous form of Patricia slowly disappeared in a cloud of bubbles. "Say hi to Ariadne for me!"

"Wait a moment!" Sharla said, "You're Dionysius! You mean to say that you're the god of feasting, wine and festivals?"

"Yep," Josef said, he looked around the shocked audience. "Oh come one, surely you guys can't have a little fun now! All drinks at the bar from now until closing time in... about 40 minutes- are on the house!"

Everyone cheered and dashed to the bar post haste, all agreeing that it had been a very, very good night. Anyway, who really cared about a bitch who got what she deserved- and who was sent to a semi-comprehensible Island of Myth- when there was free booze to be had?
 

dragorat

Fat & happy Rodent..:)
Joined
Sep 29, 2005
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807
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Love the ending.I had a feeling there was gonna be some kind of twist to it.Should have thought of the possibility of Josef being Dionysus.:bow:
 

IrishBard

womble/leprechaun hybrid!
Joined
Nov 22, 2007
Messages
1,125
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well, I was thinking, what infamous quisene haven't i put down yet? Greek! how can we work... olympian gods, they have a deity for this kind of thing.
 

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