"Fit to Fat Slob": A KCC Tale Part 2

Here is part two which brings the whole story to over 7,000 words.

Enjoy!

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The party was in full swing when Elizabeth made her grand entrance just as she planned. She turned heads as usual, though this time people were quite a bit more wide eyed as they gawked at Elizabeth’s elaborate costume. Elizabeth waddling in as a fat slob complete with belly hang out of her greasy sweatsuit was certainly not something any of them had ever expected, and many were happy to laugh, in on the joke that Elizabeth was making.

“Wow, Elizabeth! Great costume!”

“You’re sure to win the contest. You look so gross. It’s fantastic.”

“Hysterical. I love it. Well done.”

Elizabeth sauntered into the room as best she could with the fat padded thighs of her costume rubbing together and gave herself a twirl, an act that nearly caused her to topple over since she wasn’t used to her new center of gravity that her fat pad belly gave her. As she stumbled, her friend Louise, who was also the party’s host and dressed in a lame sexy zombie costume, caught her and gave that realistically squishy belly a squeeze.

“Getting hefty there, girl,” laughed Louise as she shook the belly playfully.

“You know me. I just can’t stop eating,” laughed Elizabeth in reply.

“Clearly. You’ve really let yourself go.”

“Yup. I’m a real cow. Mooooo.”

And then, on cue, Elizabeth reached into her pocket and pressed the button on her remote control.

Pfffbbbtt

The clearly electronic sounding fart ripped through the air and got another nice chuckle out of Louise and a few other surrounding people.

“That’s hysterical, Elizabeth. You’ve really outdone yourself.”

“I know. I know.”

“Being a fat slob suits you.”

“Eww, gross. Don’t say shit like that. This is just for one night, hell I kinda wish I brought a backup costume to change into after the contest. I’d rather not look like this for a minute longer than I have to.”

Louise couldn’t stop herself from pinching Elizabeth’s fake but real looking meaty love handles.

“You know. I’ve always been jealous of your body, so seeing you like this, even just playing pretend, it’s all very amusing.”

Elizabeth pulled herself away.

“Yeah well… prepare to be jealous when I win the contest, and then prepare to be jealous again when I’m back to looking hot.”

With that, Elizabeth purposefully used her widened hips to bump Louise out of the way and waddled further into the party.

And further into the party is exactly where she found her preferred prey for the evening, her classic on again off again but mostly casual hook up buddy, Jason.

Jason was a real hottie with his body looking like it was chiseled from granite. He clearly didn’t care about winning the costume contest, instead choosing to be dressed in a rather flimsy pirate costume that left little to the imagination, just the way Elizabeth liked it. Jason was gorgeous, her perfect match. 

She waddled right up to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey there, hotstuff. Care to dance?”

Jason turned around with a smile on his face and then his mouth and eyes went wide at the sight of the fat slob that greeted him.

“Holy cow! Hahaha. Cow. Wow… just wow- cow. Haha. This is… this is…”

“What’s the matter? Cow got your tongue?”

“This is just a lot, a LOT. There’s a LOT of you.”

“It’s not real, you big idiot.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I know. It’s just well, damn. It looks crazy realistic.”

“That’s what makes it such a good costume.”

“It’s also what makes it super gross. You really do look like a big fat slob. Cept for your face. At least your face is still nice.”

“Shut up and dance with me, dork.”

With that, Elizabeth turned around and began to grind her big fat ass against Jason, bouncing her bulbous booty up and down to the beat.

“Damn.”

“Like what you see? You like my big fat ass?”

“What I’d like to do is get you home and out of this gross costume.”

“Hey, if you don’t like me at my fattest. You don’t deserve me at my best.”

To emphasize her point, Elizabeth pressed the button on her remote and let out a few more electronic toots in Jason’s direction.

“Aw, come on.”

“What’s the matter? Can’t handle it?”

“It’s a LOT to handle.”

“Whatever loser, there are plenty of people here who would love to get with this just like this.”

“Good luck finding them.”

“Rude.”

Elizabeth danced her chubby fingers across Jason’s chiseled chest and leaned in so that her bulbous belly was pressed against his abs even as he looked at her still delicate and angelic face. 

“You’ll be sorry.”

To emphasize her point, Elizabeth let loose another electronic fart and then pushed Jason away with a giggle. She spun herself around and gave a few more parting toots as she waddled off.

There were plenty of fish in the sea, and Elizabeth was certain that she could flirt with enough of the right ones for long enough to hook Jason. But as she looked about the room for more prey to sink her teeth into, her eyes couldn’t help but land on the buffet.

There was certainly a lot of food there worth sinking her teeth into first.

Normally, Elizabeth wouldn’t have given the buffet a second look. She had already eaten her usual pre-game salad at home with croutons added as her carbs.

But there was something different about this buffet, and it brought with it a feeling she had never known before.

There was an itch, somewhere in the back of Elizabeth’s brain, a compulsion, a need to reach out and feed. It started small, as a notion in her brain and then grew to be a rumbling in her stomach. Just looking at the food, Elizabeth could feel herself salivating, and caught herself running her tongue along her lips. 

She turned away as quickly as she could, desperate to get a hold of herself. But she couldn’t deny that her cheeks were feeling flush and there was a warm tingling sensation crawling up the back of her neck. Elizabeth even felt a trickle of sweat break on her brow as the need to feed grew more pronounced and the rumbling of her stomach grew louder. Louder. It grew into a defined gnawing sensation.

Elizabeth tried to remain calm but her heart started beating faster. Louder. Louder. The burning in her neck spread to a burning in her ears, and soon it felt like her whole head was on fire. Still she turned away, and still the rumbling grew more intense. Louder. Louder. Surely, someone must have heard. They must have suspected- must have KNOWN! The hunger! Louder! Still. Louder!

She shrieked inside. She had to eat, eat or die. The food, the precious food, she had the need, the need to feed. And so she spun around again, the padding of her belly shamelessly knocking into someone and spilling their drink, but Elizabeth gave no heed to their loud complaint as she waddled over to the buffet and struggled to find what was left of her restraint.

Elizabeth was trembling as she reached out her hand toward the buffet.

“Just a little bit,” she thought.

“Just a taste.”

And as her hand hovered over the potato chips, she soon found it moving to the bowl of sour cream and onion dip. From there she took two fingers and scooped up as much dip as she could manage and then shoved those fingers into her mouth. That motion sent a splattering of cream smacking against her chin and dribbling down to her chest, and then rest of it she sucked down quickly before sinking her fingers back into the dip for me, drawing gasps from the aghast guests who witnessed her disgusting double dipping with her fingers no less!

But Elizabeth did not care. She could not care. She could only focus on her need for more.

Two fingers were no longer enough as Elizabeth sunk her whole hand into the dip, and with her other hand she scooped up the chips, cramming them into her mouth and causing them to explode into crumbs as she did so. Then she chased the chips that she had managed to stuff her cheeks full of with the dip that she messily ladled into her greedy mouth.

Elizabeth barely took the time to register the taste of the potato chips except to notice that they were salty and they were good and she needed more, so many more. She crammed as much as she could into her mouth until the entire bowl was gone and the dip alongside it. Everything either ended up in her stomach, on her face, her sweatshirt or splattered on the chair or floor. 

It was quite something, looking at Elizabeth’s face at that moment. It was still slender and beautiful albeit a mess of crumbs, grease, and sour cream and onion dip. Her slender face with its fashion model beauty marred by the smattering of food that now messily covered it, did not look like it belonged to the kind of person who would make the mess that she had just created. The rest of her look though very much looked the part, especially as her chubby hands wiped against her sweatpants to add all knew organically grown grease stains.

Her fat, sweaty belly jiggled as she let out a tremendous burp and shuffled her way along the buffet table to the next item that caught her greedy gaze.

It was a plate piled high with buffalo chicken wings.

Elizabeth tried once again to resist, becoming painfully aware thanks to the side eye that she was getting that she was making a pig of herself. She could even hear people whispering behind her.

“Elizabeth is really living up to her costume right now.”

“Yeah, she must really want to win, but like… gross.”

“Yeah, there’s no need to be so method about it.”

“Maybe she really has let herself go.”

“No way! You think?”

“The way she’s eating, this can’t be her first time stuffing her face like this. I bet you there’s plenty of plush underneath that padding.”

“Hilarious.”

“Look at her eyeing those chicken wings. Go ahead piggy. Eat up. Oink. Oink.”

Elizabeth tried to fight it, desperate not to give the partygoers the satisfaction of watching her fall even further, but as the smell of the buffalo wings wafted up into her nostrils, she knew she was powerless, and her hands flew at the plate, picking up wings so she could tear into them with reckless abandon, sucking each bone clean.

The cleanness did not extend beyond the bones however, Elizabeth’s face and clothes once again found themselves covered in a fresh coating of sauce. Several of the wings slipped out of Elizabeth’s chubby sauce-covered fingers, but she quickly plucked them up off the floor, exposing more and more of her fat ass crack each time she did so, and then polished them off. It was only rarely that a wing stayed on the floor longer than five seconds as Elizabeth became too distracted by the next wing to pick the fallen ones up right away. But, by the time the entire plattered had been consumed, the only things left on the floor were a few scattered piles of wayward chicken bones.

The heat of the wing sauce was making Elizabeth sweat quite a lot, and new dark stains spread across her chest and back and underneath her armpits. The people around her were starting to pick up a distinct funk coming from the previously prim and proper Elizabeth which caused them to give her an even wider berth at the buffet table as she shuffled along and moved onto her next item, a tower of mini-pizza bagels.

Elizabeth attacked the pizza bagels, practically scarfing them down two at a time. Some had bacon, some had pepperoni, others just had extra cheese. All of them were extremely messy, and they all went down with ease. Her face became covered in even more sauce with her chin becoming decorated with greasy cheese. The tower never really stood a chance, the pizza bagels went down way faster than anyone could have ever imagined (magic will make that possible you know) and as she finished devouring the last one, Elizabeth’s bloated body responded with a triumphant-

PPPHHHHHBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTT!!!!!

The thunderous fart ripped through the air and practically stopped the party like a record scratch. Immediately, everyone that was still around Elizabeth could tell that the fart was no mere effect as the sound was accompanied by an extremely rotten smell that quickly filled their nostrils and caused people to flee, abandoning the buffet table completely to Elizabeth.

The area around Elizabeth grew bearer as a second quieter but no less noxious fart escaped her blubbery rear end. The first fart shocked people, but the second got them talking again. 

“Holy shit. She really ripped one!”

“Yeah. That ass blast was all her too. No costume, unless she’s got some stink bombs.”

“The only stink bomb is Elizabeth‘s own nasty ass.”

“Fizzy Lizzy’s got some gas!”

“Ha! Fizzy Lizzy. That’s a good one. Fitting for a gas factory like her.”

The name Fizzy Lizzy began to filter around the room, buoyed by a few more blasts of gas that bubbled out of her blubber butt. 

Elizabeth knew that she should have left right then and there, taken what was left of her dignity and waddled on out the door, but all of the flatulence had freed up more room for food, and her stomach was rumbling yet again. It turned the red faced and sweaty slob back toward the buffet, and soon her chubby fingers reached for a pair of serving spoons. 

One of the spoons was in a platter of macaroni and cheese. The other was in a chicken casserole. Both were meant to serve the two main entrees into plates, but instead they served the food directly into Elizabeth’s mouth. 

Elizabeth alternated between the gooey Mac and cheese and the creamy casserole. Internally, she was screaming, but she could help herself and continued to hog out. She ate spoonful after messy oversized spoonful, and worse, between big bites of delicious calorie laden comfort food, Elizabeth found her body alternating between mighty burps and tremendous farts also as if her body was trying to both make more room for food and keep potential competitors away. 

And people were plenty happy to stay away and laugh from a distance.

“She’s so gross!”

“Fat and gross.”

“And stinky!”

“A fat stinky slob!”

“What a pig!”

“What a cow!”

The only thing Elizabeth could think of to silence the loud voices of the gossip behind her was to drown them out with more food.

So she tucked into a tray of pigs in the blanket. Wee wee wee the pigs went down one by one and then handful by handful. Occasionally she took one of her hands, dipped it into the bowl of mustard and then licked it clean. But mostly she scarfed down the food with such ferocity that she struggled to catch her breath and was snorting as she went. 

“You are what you eat.”

“And Fizzy Lizzy is a big fat piggy!”

“Fizzy Lizzy Lard Ass!”

Elizabeth needed to do something. She may have been making a pig of herself, may have been stuffing her face and farting up a storm, but she needed to play this off as all part of her act. That was it! She was just being extremely in character. This was all a big fat joke, all for the contest. She just needed to remind these people that she wasn’t actually fat. 

With all the willpower she could manage, Elizabeth tore herself away from her feasting, and as she did so, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror behind the buffet table. And as she did so, she was hit with a new wave of growing horror. 

Her face had changed!

Elizabeth’s delicate facial features, previously covered only by mess, were now buried by blubber. She had thick jiggling jowls that swallowed up her cheekbones and made her eyes look beady. They were now big chubby cheeks flush red from exertion and acne. She had a doughy double chin that wobbled about as she inspected the rest of her fat face, and it was dotted with a few zits big enough to stand out even amidst the layers of grime that covered her face as a result of her reckless feasting. She had a thicker forehead with a permanently greasy sheen dotted with more acne and with her now limp and greasy hair matted against it. Even her nose has grown fatter, growing wider and adding to her piggish look. She gave a snort in surprise and felt her chubby fingers sink into fat flesh. 

That’s when Elizabeth began to sweat even more and her internal horror grew. Her very fully tummy did a flip as she realized that she could no longer feel the padding brushing against her abs, and she could feel the flimsy, sweat and food stained fabric of her sweats as if they were pressed directly against her own skin.

Was this all her own body? Had she somehow turned herself into a full on bloated cow, a fat farting slob just from one major binging session. How could this be? She needed to know. She needed answers. She needed to inspect her body further.

But first she needed dessert.

That dessert was a delicious looking chocolate cake, and, with another trumpeting fart, Elizabeth flung herself forward and practically crashed into it as she began tearing into the cake with her bare hands. Her greedy fingers crushed the chocolate ganache as she brought handful after handful of cake up to her greedy mouth and stuffed her fat face full of the decadent dessert. Another handful. Another fart. It was a steady rhythm now. Eat. Snort. Fart. Eat. Snort. Fart. Eat. Snort. Fart. She was like a machine, a machine that craved chocolate, and she couldn’t help but give in.

Elizabeth stuffed her face like a good little pig all while the people around her continued to laugh.

“I can’t believe she’s let herself go like this.”

“It’s gross.”

“It’s great.”

“It’s funny as hell.”

“I love seeing her like this, being a big fat slob. What a show!”

“I think it stinks.”

“She certainly stinks. She’s a big fat skunk. What a fume!”

“Big gassy cow!”

“Fizzy Lizzy can’t stop stuffing her face and farting like the pig that she is!”

It was true. Elizabeth couldn’t stop eating until she had demolished the chocolate cake completely, and then more bloated and gassy than ever, Elizabeth waddled toward the bathroom to inspect the damage to her body, puttering all the way.

As she waddled along, she could hear still more talking. 

“She sounds like a broken down car with all that gas leaking out.”

“A big fat sloppy jalopy.”

“Is she waddling toward the bathroom? I definitely wouldn’t want to follow her fat ass.”

“She’s definitely going to drop a bomb. Did you see the way she was eating?”

“Try not to clog the toilet, you cow!”

“MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Elizabeth pushed it all aside and focused on getting herself to the bathroom where she could inspect herself in piece. By the time she threw open the bathroom door and locked herself inside, she was hyperventilating not just from anxiety but from the effort of her trip. Moving her large lard filled body was quite the hassle. 

Her body.

Elizabeth had to know. 

So she did the only thing she could think to do. She took a deep breath. 

Then she started to pull off her pants. 

Her heart sank as she began to peel the greasy sweats from her legs. They came right off. There was no sewn in padding anymore, just flesh, fat, quivering flesh. She was no longer wearing a fat suit.

Elizabeth was FAT. 

Her hands held onto a big fat blubbery belly that was completely her own. She could feel it as she gave her gut a hard squeeze and tried to pull the fat away from her only to have it slip out of her hands and bounce right back into place like a quivering jello mold. Her fat belly was heavy and greasy with sweat and the slick residue of all the food she had been eating. It hung lazily over the waistband of her underwear, a set over oversized but now overtaxed granny panties that looked like they had once been white but were now thoroughly gray and fraying around the edges where her fat legs stuck out.

Those legs were big fat thunder thighs, tree trunks of cellulite covered flesh. The sweaty, stretch mark skin, pressed against itself and forced her into a wider stance, but she still couldn’t stop her sweaty thunder thighs from touching. Elizabeth used to love morning jogs and strutting about in high heels, but with these tremendously thick thighs, it was clear those days were over unless she somehow found a way to reverse the damage. And the rumbling in her fat stomach that signaled that she was somehow still hungry after all she had eaten told her that that was an extremely unlikely scenario.

Her legs had grown so fat that she now had cankles where her calves and ankles had once been two separate things. Elizabeth could even tell by the pressure in her shoes that her feet had gotten quite fat. She didn’t dare try to confirm that because she was certain that bending over to do so would be a tremendous effort, and she was afraid that her fat belly would send her toppling over.

Elizabeth’s inspection of her thunder thighs was interrupted by the sound of another loud involuntary fart escaping her titanic ass which pulled her attention to her blubbery behind.

Chubby hands sunk into the flesh of more than chubby cheeks. Elizabeth’s once tight and toned ass was no more, replaced by blubbering buns that were covered in cellulite to match her thick thunder thighs. Her chunky cellulite covered cheeks were heavy and flabby, and when she let go of that, they sagged downward and slapped onto the back of her fat thighs with enough force to cause her entire lower half to quiver. She cried at the realization of just how soft, wide and heavy her precious ass cheeks had become. They had ballooned to unreal proportions and yet still looked and felt saggy and deflated. And the worst part about them was….

Phhrrrrrrbbbbbbt!

It was a squeaker, but the smell was still intense. Elizabeth couldn’t help herself. She had somehow turned into a big fat gasbag, and each new fart made her nose wrinkle in disgust. She was no longer the prim and proper lady she had been, she was some kind of foul smelling and flatulent beast. And worse, as she stood there, it wasn’t just that her body would burst into sudden bouts of flatulence. She could feel it building up, roiling in her gut until she had no choice.

As sweat broke on her brow, Elizabeth leaned her big fat flabby body against the sink, lifted a fat leg and squeezed her cheeks until-

PHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRBBBBBBBBBBBBBTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!

She let loose a truly tremendous trumpeting blast that caused her flabby cheeks to shake and slap together as the fart reverberated through the room filling it with a new wave of stench. Her whole body shook with the effort as she just kept farting. Elizabeth was filled with a sense of both relief and disgust, a feeling that doubled as she soon found herself doubling over and forcing herself to release two more blasts in quick succession. She couldn’t believe this was happening, and yet it was.

Her entire body jiggled with each fart she made, and after a series of blasts, she was finally able to compose herself enough to finish her inspection.

Elizabeth’s breasts were now saggy and covered in stretch marks, but they were now dwarfed by the belly that formed the bulk of her massive muffin top. Her previously lithe arms were now great big flabby limbs, and as she lifted them up to inspect just how flabby and wobbly her bingo wings were, she also caught the incredibly strong scent of the pungent body odor that emanated from her now rather hairy armpits. Elizabeth couldn’t believe the heavy stench. She smelled like she hadn’t showered in days and quickly let her arms drop. Her bingo wings jiggled as they slapped against her fat sides.

Thankfully, Elizabeth’s fat piggish face hadn’t gotten any fatter since she left the buffet table, but that offered her little comfort as she was now trapped in the body of an obese slob. No. That was wrong. She wasn’t trapped in a body. That would imply that she was trapped in someone else’s body, but as Elizabeth’s chubby hands squeezed the fat between her sausage fingers, poked, pinched, prodded and jiggled the slabs of saggy flesh, pawed at every pound of flesh every roll and fold it became clearer and clearer that she was no somewhere else. This was her, all her.

She was an obese slob.

Gone was any trace of the slim and sexy Elizabeth who used to flaunt her body and rule over others as the queen bee of any friend group. Elizabeth now looked and felt like a big big fat lazy couch potato, the kind of fat chick who spent her nights in the permanent indentation that her fat butt had carved into her couch, binging on junk tv and junk food. She was the kind of lazy fatty who was constantly stuffing herself, eating ice cream right out of the tub while sweating and farting up a storm. Elizabeth could picture herself on the couch, sniffing her sweaty armpits, stuffing her fat face with food, scratching herself and occasionally lifting her leg to let out a tremendous fart.

In fact, the more she thought about it, the more those imaginings were becoming concrete, not just thoughts but memories. This was her life. She was the pathetic loser who was hot and let herself go, who had been the queen and was now reduced to nothing but a fat gassy cow. She had fallen so far that the only comfort she had left was the food that had gotten her this fat in the first place.

Her head was spinning as she tried to deny all that it was telling her, but she had to give up that fight as she heard a pounding at the door.

“Hey, Fat Ass! Move it along!”

“Yeah! Come on, Fatso! Other people need to use the bathroom.”

“You better not be clogging the toilet, you hambeast!”

“Knowing Fizzy Lizzy Lard Ass, I wouldn’t be surprised. She’s such a cow.”

“Mooooooooove it along, Fizzy Lizzy Lard Ass! Get your big fat but out of there!”

“I hope she hasn’t broken the toilet with her titanic ass.”

“Let’s go, Lardo!”

Lizzy finally gave in and pulled up her pants, a challenging feat given the immensity of her body and the way her belly pressed against her thighs as she bent over to pick up the greasy sweats, but she managed to get them pulled up and mostly over her fat flabby ass. Next came the sweat and food covered sweatshirt which did barely anything to concealed the blubbery belly that protruded out from under it and over the waistband of her pants. Lizzy knew she had to get out of here, and with a final fart she propelled herself forward and barged by out into the hallway and the laughing crowd that had gathered around her. Luckily, her odious aroma had caused most of them to part like the Red Sea.

Unluckily, the hallway was still quite crowded, and Lizzy was quite ride, so inevitably some people got a bit smacked around by the sides of her round flabby body.

“Sick.”

“Gross.”

“Disgusting.”

“Ewww. She touched me. I felt her sweat and everything.”

“She’s so greasy and smelly.”

“Who invited her anyway, she’s such a fat loser.”

“And she’s not even wearing a costume. The least she could have done was dressed up like a pig.”

“Or a cow.”

“Or a whale.”

All Lizzy could do as she waddled through the crowd was cry and fart.

“She did it again! She just can’t stop farting!”

“What a fat, smelly loser.”

“She used to be hot right? Wasn’t she hot?”

“Now she’s just a hot mess, no wonder she’s so sweaty… and smelly. Seriously, it’s gross. Take a shower, you cow!”

“She really let herself go. She’s huge now.”

“It’s sad.”

“It’s funny as hell. I love it.”

“Hell yeah. She deserves this.”

“But mooove along now, Fatso. You’re stinking up the house and eating all our food. Get gone, Fatty!”

“Yeah. We’ve had our fun with you, Fizzy Lizzy Lard Ass, but now its time to waddle off and take your fat stinky butt home to stuff your face there.”

As she tried to do just that, Lizzy couldn’t help but bump directly into Jason, nearly knocking the broad shouldered man over with her big belly.

“Ugg, gross. Watch where you’re going, you cow!”

The only thing the nervous Lizzy could do face to face with this hot guy was fart nervously.

“You’re so gross. I can’t believe I was into you when you were hot. Hell, I can’t believe you were ever hot, but it looks like I dodged a bullet. You’re hot garbage now. You’ve certainly got the smell for it. You’re fat trash, you pig, you slob. I can’t believe you let yourself go like this. Get away from me, you big fat loser.”

Like the obedient fat girl that she was, Lizzy did as she was told and waddled away from Jason only to soon run into Louise.

“You wide load whale! You’re ruining my party! Look at the mess you’ve made. I invited you as a joke, so we could all make fun of your fat ass some more, but not to just go absolutely ham on my buffet and ruin everything. You’re so disgusting that it’s not even funny.”

Louise reached forward and gave Lizzy’s large greasy belly a squeeze and a shake.

“I can’t believe I actually used to be jealous of your body at some point. Now you’re just a fat flatulent hog, and it’s laughable. Karma’s a bitch and you deserve this you fat loser. Now get your fat ass the hell out of my house and never come back.”

And that’s exactly what she did. 

Lizzy made a slow ponderous exit as she waddled past all the people she once looked down upon as they continued to laugh and jeer at her. Some were even bold enough to poke and pinch her fat body, and deep down she knew that she deserved all of this for the past cruelty she had once inflicted on others, but it didn’t make it any easier to take. She made the long walk of shame, reached her now very cramped and messy apartment, its floor and tables littered with evidence of past binges, and threw herself onto her bed.

That bed creaked heavily under her weight and Lizzy let out one more monstrous fart before finally drifting off to a fitful sleep, hoping this was all just a bad dream but knowing the truth.

This was her life now. She was slim and sexy Elizabeth no more. Now she was just Fizzy Lizzy Lard Ass, fat farting slob forever.

She had a whole fat miserable life ahead of her.