"One of Those Fat Making Notebooks": Extended Cut
Added 2024-05-23 03:34:21 +0000 UTCWhile we wait to settle the neck and neck race between which exclusive cut gets an extended cut first, here's an extended cut I made of "One of Those Fat Making Notebooks" which previously featured in "Fat Trimmings" Volume 20. This extended cut has well over 2,000 extra words with several extra transformations and a big eating scene at the end. It tops out at almost 5,500 words.
Just like with "Fat Trimmings" Volume 20, I have included a PDF for the extended slob cut which has even more words topping out at almost 5,900 words.
Enjoy!
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Asami couldn’t believe it. She had actually stumbled upon a notebook that made people fat. It worked like Death Note, but with fat! Debu Note! Just like the videos she had seen. But this was a parody come to life, a weapon of great power at her disposal and ready to humiliate her enemies and achieve her fattening vengeance.
Hell yeah!
Sure, there was probably some kind of gluttony demon attached to this thing, and there were probably some kind of consequences in store for her, but she had never read nor watched enough of Death Note to worry about that kind of thing. Her knowledge of fat making notebooks was exceedingly limited to a couple of Youtube parody videos and an old Fan2000 story that she was only half remembering.
Still, fat making notebooks don’t come around every day. (Maybe every few years perhaps, but certainly not EVERY day.) And she was determined to make the most of it.
First, a test was in order.
As Asami sat her chubby butt on a chair outside the little cafe where she had found the notebook (totally not ominously thrown in the bathroom garbage), she watched a slender woman across from her eat an undressed salad. It was the undressed salad that so easily led Asami to jump to the conclusion that this woman was a skinny bitch, and so she went to work with the notebook.
“The woman sitting across from me and eating an undressed salad will gain ten pounds, mostly to her belly, within the next minute and think this is totally normal,” she wrote. Asami was working under the suspicion that when testing it was always best to be as specific and detailed as possible.
Sure enough, the woman’s slim waist soon began to swell as she gained ten pounds. Her dress stretched to accommodate the growth, most of which landed on her belly and gave her formerly flat stomach a distinctly convex shape. Asami could watch it jiggle as the woman finished her meal and got up to leave. The woman seemed a bit uncomfortable with the tightness of her outfit, and was left somewhat more insecure than she otherwise would have been, but she was not exactly in a panic.
The whole thing made Asami chuckle softly, but it didn’t exactly leave her satisfied.
“The woman I just made gain weight will gain another fifty pounds over the course of the next year and never be able to lose it,” she wrote with a sinister grin on her face.
And then Asami let the woman go off on her merry way, content to use her imagination to think about what would become of the woman whose life she had changed for the fatter, the self-consciousness, the panic, the failures at dieting and the bursting of clothes. It was an enjoyable taste, but she again needed more.
So she headed off to the modeling agency where she worked as a production assistant and prepared herself for a feast.
On her way there an unexpected but not entirely uncommon event occurred. A slender woman who bumped into Asami.
“Watch where you’re going, fat ass,” she snarled as she walked away.
Asami could tell by the look of the woman and the way she walked in her heels, strutting with a combination of speed and confidence down the block, that she was some kind of prim and proper high powered business woman. She was wearing a charcoal gray pencil skirt with a matching jacket. Her hair was in a severe bun.
While Asami was all for women in power, she was completely against bullies and decided to teach this woman a lesson, so she whipped out her notebook and started to write.
“The woman who just bumped into me will gain a pound (mostly in her lower half) per step that she takes until she reaches the end of the block.”
With leering eyes, Asami watched the first pounds pile on. It was slow at first, barely noticeable. And as the woman got further away, Asami struggled to see much of anything. She only dared to double back slightly lest she be caught.
But then the woman stopped to adjust her skirt, and Asami got a much better view of things.
The woman’s previously tight ass was now stretching out the back of the skirt, and while the pencil skirt was long enough to cover most of her thighs, Asami could tell by the way the sides of the skirt had stretched that the woman was already starting to develop a nice set of saddlebags. The woman seemed lost to the world around her as she adjusted her skirt to account for her widening hims and growing rear.
This made Asami bold, and she took a few more steps forward so she could better watch the woman continue on her way. Interestingly enough, the first thing the woman who was still adjusting her skirt did was take a step back and added another pound to her growing butt.
The woman soldiered forth trying to ignore the now obvious changes to her body, the flabbiness of her butt bouncing up and down, the feeling of her fatter thighs slapping together or the straining of the waist of her skirt and even the buttons of her blouse because of her burgeoning belly. But eventually things stop being able to be ignored, and that can happen in an instant.
That instant came with the popping of a button.
The button of her pencil skirt did, and once that went the skirt itself fell rather unceremoniously to the ground eliciting a burst of laughter from some unexpecting passersby. Asami watched as the now chubby woman struggled to bend over and pick up the skirt. Her fat flabby ass was waving in the air as her chunky cheeks ate her panties, and her cellulite covered thunder thighs crashed together. Asami could even see the woman’s jiggling belly popping a few buttons on her blouse as she staggered about trying to deal with the skirt situation.
Staggering about counts as steps. As the pounds continued to pile on, and the laughter continued to grow, the woman went into an absolute panic. She couldn’t possibly be seen at work like this. She had to get home! She started to run.
Unfortunately, although she was agonizingly close, she had not yet reached the end of the block.
And home was in the other direction.
Did you know that in the United States the average city block takes around 200 steps to cover?
By the time the woman did eventually reach the block, she was a blubbery, blubbering mess who had collapsed as she pawed at her fat body in disbelief. Her ass was outrageously huge and her tree trunk thighs were massive. While most of the weight had gone to her lower half, it was just so much weight that there was bound to be fat all over including in her big bulging blubber belly. As she cried it shook in great waves of jiggling fat. Her outfit was completely ruined, and her hair had fallen out of its bun. The only thing about her that remained relatively the same was her face which he only softened slightly.
While the woman continued to alternate between screaming and crying, the crowd around her alternated between taking rude pictures and videos while laughing at her and calling 911.
Asami decided to make herself scarce. While she was certain there was no way cops were going to be able to track a woman suddenly getting incredibly obese to another woman simply writing things down in a notebook, she wasn’t going to wait around to see if someone was crazy enough to try. Besides, she still had other targets in mind, and she was eager to attend to that business.
Eventually, she did make it to the modeling agency she worked at.
Asami had three particular targets in mind. She thought about changing more. She thought about creating radical changes throughout the whole company, but she didn’t want to let all of this power get to her head, to rush and make mistakes. (The woman on the street had already proved the need to be more careful.) And, most importantly, she wanted to savor things.
So three would do for now, and she knew just which three it would be: Colleen, Kyara, and Melanie. Asami was a chubby, dowdy production assistant at the modeling agency and those three were the models who most consistently made her life hell.
Kyara was the first of the vain, stuck-up models that Asami ran into. Kyara was always on Asami about her weight and most specifically what she ate. She loved to spot Asami at the craft services table having a doughnut and reprimand her for eating unhealthy snacks. She was a cruel bitch like that.
In a perfect coincidence, Asami spotted Kyara standing by the craft services picking at a tray of fruit. She was just in a bikini and a whisper thin sarong. Making it look like she was just checking some notes in her production binder, Asami quickly wrote in the notebook.
“Kyara will gain thirty pounds right now, mostly to her belly, but and thighs. She will become addicted to junk food and gain an additional hundred and twenty pounds over the next year and never be able to lose it.”
Kyara’s hand dropped the grape she was about to eat and instead hovered over the box of doughnuts as her six pack abs began to melt away, seamlessly turning into a generous potbelly, going slack and then surging outward until fat began to roll over her sarong while the lowest part of her belly fat pushed at the very loose knot that was holding the garment in place.
The double chocolate glazed doughnut soon graced her lips, and as it did so it was like it sent a message to her hips. They began to widen as both her ass and thighs grew thicker and softer. Her ass began to swell and sag, two chunky cheeks covered in cellulite, and while her thighs weren’t near fat enough to make her waddle just yet, they were now filled with enough flab to get rid of any thigh gap she had previously had.
Kyara’s body found new softness all over, but it was clear that things were working as intended. With another one hundred and twenty pounds to come her way, Kyara was destined to become an extremely bottom heavy girl. Asamai loved watching as Kyara continued to swell a bit more until the combination of her hips, butt and belly growing finally undid the knot on the sarong and sent it falling to the floor. As Kyara bent down to pick it up, Asami watched Kyara’s ass cheek wobble and her thighs quiver and slap together.
“What the hell is this?!” yelled Mike, one of the photographers.
Kyara finally noticed herself and let out a scream.
“I-I don’t know how this happened. I-”
“We can tell. You’ve been sneaking snacks, you naughty little piglet.” snickered one of a pair of models that Asami did not recognize.
“Yeah. Keep stuffing your face with doughnuts like that, and you’ll get even puffier,” laughed the other of the two new girls.
Kyara’s mind was racing. She couldn’t understand how or why this was happening. It was like all she knew was that she was suddenly much heavier, fatter, than normal, and she had an immense desire to panic stuff her face with junk food. Without even thinking about it, she crammed most of the doughnut into her mouth.
“She’s a goner.”
“Yup. Oink, oink, Fatty.”
“Oink. Oink. Oink.”
The two girls kept laughing and oinking as they strutted away, and Asamai took a mental note to possibly come back to them later.”
Meanwhile, Mike was thinking out loud.
“Okay. Okay. I can still do a lot of chest up shots, work from top down, and then put in overtime with the photoshop. But you better get things straight and be careful, girl, if you don’t want to end up in the plussize division.”
Asami laughed at the idea knowing that she had stuck Kyara and the perfect weight and proportion. She wasn’t big enough for plus size, and she wouldn’t gain weight very evenly, and with another hundred and twenty pounds to go, that should put her out of most plus size gigs. Asami loved thinking about how Kyara’s career would suffer, how every aspect of her life would change, including her becoming one of those people who takes a lot of face only pictures and then surprises you with how immensely obese they are. Asami wanted to stay and daydream about Kyara forever, but she had other targets to fatten.
Melanie was next.
Well… that was the plan at least, but as she was looking for Melanie on one of the photoshoot stations, she ran into Sarah and Adrianna. Sarah was one of the few models in the agency that had always been nice to Asami. She wasn’t considered to be one of the agency’s top tier models because, even though she had a tight toned figure, her breasts were smaller than others. Adrianna was a top tier model who loved to specifically request that she work photoshoots with less endowed women so that she could bully them over their figures.
Asami decided to help Sarah out and have some fun with Adrianna as she opened up her notebook.
“Sarah’s breasts will gain enough weight to grow two cup sizes, and Adrianna will grow a big gut that she will never be able to lose. People will not notice the change as it happens and just think this is normal afterward.”
Sure enough, no sooner had it been written than the transformations began. Sarah’s breasts quivered as they grew, overwhelming the cups of her bikini top quite scandalously as the swelled up to being two sizes larger. Meanwhile, Adrianna’s precious abs went away as her belly surged outward into a big spongy gut that hung over the waistband of her bikini bottoms. She grew love handles to match and complete the muffin top.
“Cut! Cut!” yelled the photographer.
“That’s enough.”
He turned to point at Sarah with a smile.
“Sarah, girl. You’re doing great, but let’s get wardrobe to find you a more accommodating top, okay babe?”
And then he turned toward Adrianna with a glare.
“And Adrianna, chubs, go home and lose that gut. I can’t work with you like this. You’re out of shape with that flabby blubber belly of yours. Eww.”
With a chuckle to herself, Asami wandered off before she could listen in on the intense screaming match that followed. There was plenty of work left to be done. She still wanted to find Melanie after all.
Asami found Melanie fresh off a lingerie photoshoot wearing a lace negligee top and matching panties. She looked so sexy with her lean body and toned muscles. Her butt was perfectly pert. Her abs were visible. She had an angelic face that did such a nice job of hiding her devilish interior.
Asami was about to change all of that with a few flicks of the pen.
“Melanie will gain two hundred and fifty pounds within the next minute, and everyone will act like things are surprising but normal. Melanie’s clothes will grow with her but be barely fitting.”
She had thought about having Melanie burst out of her clothes and be left a naked, blubbery, blubbering woman. She thought about Melania as a fat blob with her clothes broken on the floor, struggling to cover her massive breasts and broad backside. Her belly would be big enough to hang down and cover her front.
But Asami wanted to save the clothes bursting for another time, so she left things as is and enjoyed the show.
It started just like Kyara with a rumbling in Melanie’s stomach. But unlike Kyara’s tummy which swelled out slowly below sloping over the waistband of her bikini bottoms, Melanie’s stomach practically exploded with fat as it inflated like a huge water balloon filling with blubber. Her flesh was undulating as it grew. It bounced and jiggled as her abs turned into a gut and beyond. In moments she was standing there with a gelatinous sack of fat, a huge double belly hanging over the front of her panties and obscuring them completely. It was still bouncing and jiggling as the rest of her filled with thick, quivering fat.
Melanie’s ass ballooned to match her belly, growing two bulbous cheeks chunky and chalk full of cellulite. They were flabby cushions, pillows of jiggling adipose, filling up and out and then hanging down, slapping against her growing thighs. Her well cushioned backside was quickly met by the rising dough of her thunder thighs. Melanie’s lean and athletic thighs became great tree trunks that pressed together and forced her into a wider stance fitting someone who would soon be stuck waddling about instead of strutting like a proper model. Her billowy thighs quivered with the slightest of movements much to Asami’s delight.
Up top, Melanie’s breasts also surged forward, filling and practically spilling out of the cups of her bra. Her massive mammaries would have broken the bra completely if it wasn’t for the specifics of what Asami had written. Instead the bra itself shifted and changed to include much more intense underwire to better hold the boulders that it contained. And even then, the titanic breasts tagged heavily and strained Melanie’s fat roll laden back with their immense weight.
Her arms got fatter as well, becoming thick but loose with flab. Her bingo wings shook as she grabbed at her flabby flesh with her chubby sausage fingers.
Melanie’s angelic face was not left unchanged. It morphed into a far more piggish appearance with chubby cheeks that were not at all flattering to her upturned nose and made her eyes look small. Even that nose swelled with fat. But the most prominent change to her face was the appearance of a thick double chin that drooped down from her previously delicate jawline.
Melanie grasped at her fat body and Asami could see the look in her eyes. It was interesting, a look of complete humiliation but not fear. There was clearly panic there but more from how humiliated and exposed she felt and not from shock at how suddenly she had grown and how large she had become. Even the people around her seemed to react more in annoyance and frustration than in surprise and disbelief.
“Holy shit, what are we gonna do with her now?” asked Esteban, one of the agency higher ups as he talked to Trishelle, a chubby photographer who Melanie had a very tense working relationship with up until now.
Trish looked down at her camera and then back up at Melanie with glee.
“Well, we could roll this hog over to the fetish department. This would make for some great before and after photos, worth her weight in gold.”
Trish laughed as she shook Melanie’s spare tire and sent the rest of her fat body jiggling as well.
“Yeah. Yeah. That could work. I think I can get her a whole cake she can eat too. You can handle that, can’t you Mel?”
Melanie was aghast. She was just a moment ago a perfect model living her dream, and while suddenly being this weight seemed totally normal to her, she couldn’t for the life of her figure out how or why it had happened. All she knew was two things. One, she was supremely fat and hungry. Two, she was far too fat for regular modeling now and if she wanted to keep her job at all she was going to have to eat an entire cake.
She nodded and her fat cheeks flushed as her double chin wobbled.
“Yeah? You’re gonna eat a whole cake?” teased Estaban.
“I’m gonna eat a whole cake.” muttered Melanie.
“Come on. Louder. With some spirit.”
“I’M GONNA EAT A WHOLE CAKE!”
“You’re my fatty.”
“I’M YOUR FATTY!”
“Oink for me, fatty.”
“OINK! OINK! OINK!”
“Look at me, and do that again.” chimed in Trishelle.
Melanie did as she was told, oinking like a pig for Trishelle’s camera, scrunching up her fat face and snorting like an animal. It was humiliating, but it was the only way Melanie knew how to make a dollar at this point.
“Good piggy. Now save some of that for your next shoot. I hope you’re hungry,” laughed Trishelle as she spanked Melanie’s fat blubber butt and led her new piggy project off to the fetish department for her new humiliating career.
Asami was practically doubled over in laughter. It was all working out better than she had ever planned. And she still had one more to go.
Luckily, Colleen was not hard to find at all. In fact, Asami heard her before she could see her. Colleen was berating Stuart, another nebbish production assistant for bringing a glass of water in it with only three slices of cucumber in it instead of four. This was the exact kind of thing that Colleen was known for doing all the time. In fact, just the day before Asami had heard Colleen yelling at Stuart for bringing her a glass of water that had four slices of cucumber in it instead of three.
Colleen was often berating Asami as well, usually about her weight and her job status. Colleen loved to lord her power over the assistants and was known for strutting her stuff and crushing anyone in her way.
Asami was eager to change all that. That’s why she had saved Colleen for last. She had a particularly ironic fate for her and wanted to really test the powers of the notebook.
“Colleen started gaining weight two years ago. She got too fat to be a model, and was instead demoted to a production assistant a year ago. She’s been steadily gaining ever since and will continue to do so because she is a junk food junkie.”
In an instant the Colleen that was standing in front of Asami was completely different.
Colleen had been standing around in an elegant evening gown. She was every bit the image of prim and proper poise and elegance. But this Colleen looked like a fat schlubby slob in sweats.
The former model had become a round ball of fat with a thick gut that was so ponderous that it easily slipped out from under her dirty t-shirt and over the waistband of her sweatpants. She was constantly having to alternate between tucking her big belly into her sweatpants and pulling down her too small shirt to cover what she could. Unfortunately for her, Colleen’s job as a production assistant had her frequently waddling from place to place which left her sweaty, winded, and frequently humiliatingly exposed.
And Colleen had to waddle because her thighs were so tremendous, swishing tree trunks that constantly rubbed together. Her thighs were so thick with fat that the impressions of the cellulite that they were covered with were visible through the fabric of the too tight sweatpants. Even though Colleen definitely had cankles, the meat of her thighs was the real show, blowing outward like two huge fatty drumsticks. And they were paired with an equally bulbous blubber butt.
Colleen’s ass was the definition of a wideload. It was like she had a pair of bean bags crammed into her pants, and the pants couldn’t always take it. Her chunky cheeks often crested over the top giving her a very noticeable and oft laughed at plumber’s crack. Her entire body was like that, overly large and wobbly and constantly leaving Colleen in a state of humiliating disarray.
Even her fat pillowy arms were so large that the ham hocks that were once her biceps made any t-shirts she wore uncomfortably tight. Her back had fat rolls. Even her shoulders were fat.
Colleen had also gotten a really fat face. It was round like a moon with big dimples on the rare times she smiled. She was a jowly girl with multiple chins to her name. Overall, her face had a greasy sheen and a dopey look on it far from the glamorous and confident visage she had previously projected.
Her fat face looked miserable. It was full of regret and the knowledge of the pretty privilege she once possessed and had since lost. Colleen’s fat face was full of disappointment and the weary acceptance of her new lot in life. She waddled with her head held low and her multiple chins bloated outward like a frog. She was quiet yet clumsy, still unused to her lumbering body.
She was a complete slob too, with a dirty shirt constantly stained by sweat and the remnants of whatever meal she had just eaten. She had completely given up. Everything about her screamed defeat.
Asami couldn’t be happier.
And yet, she was not satisfied.
She wanted more.
With her precious notebook clutch in her hand, Asami decided to head to the fetish department and watch Melanie eat an entire cake.
Who knows, she might even find some more fun to be had while she was there.
Once she got to the fetish department, Asami was not disappointed. Melanie, formerly slim and sexy, prim and proper, absolutely glamorous model was standing there in a pig costume that consisted of a big pink unitard with a hole in the middle to let her big blubbery belly poke through the window making it so that the viewers could clearly see her extra deep belly button. She had sheer pink tights on, and they were already full of runs. Her thick thunder thighs oozed through the holes that they made giving the audience a great glance at the cellulite that covered them.
Melanie was flush with humiliation, her fat face near tears as she stared at the two blown up pictures of herself that were posted on the back wall of the stage. They were pictures of Melanie in her prime, one of her showing off her toned abs in a slim cut bikini, and then a second of her in an evening gown with a long slit to show off her long lean toned legs. The pictures were a far cry from the obese Melanie in her pig costume complete with a big rubber pig nose and a curly tail on the back.
The video started with Melanie with her back to the audience and staring at her past self so that the audience could see her fat flabby ass cheeks hanging out of the unitard and the curly pig tail that she was forced to wear.
All the blubber on Melanie’s body undulated as she shuffled and turned around to face the camera with a fake smile plastered on her fat face.
“Hey, everyone. It’s me, Melanie. And those… well that used to be me too. Quite a change, huh? I used to be so slim and sexy, right? Look at that. I used to be smoking hot, and I knew it. I was vain. And I made fun of others and well… look at me now. I’m a big fat piggy, and you get to make fun of me. Oink oink. I really let myself go, and now I’m a big fat naughty piggy all because I can’t stop stuffing my face. That’s why I’m such a big fat pig. I used to have sexy abs and now look at me.”
Melanie grabbed her gut with her chubby hands and gave it a big shake for everyone watching at home. As she shook her blubber belly, the rest of her fat body jiggled too. Every bit of her was so loose with soft fat that it couldn’t help but quiver at the slightest movement.
“I’ve got this big greedy gut, and this big greedy gut needs to be stuffed. So it’s time for me to hog out!”
Two slim production assistants rolled a great big chocolate covered sheet cake into frame. Asami recognized them. They were Luna and Harper, two of the newer assistants who were certain they were going to work their way into being models. And they were pretty enough to do it which of course they knew. That’s why they were laughing at Melanie.
Asami took out the notebook and decided she would nip this in the bud.
“Luna and Harper each gain 20 pounds instantly growing spongy pot bellies and flabby asses. They’ll never be able to lose the weight no matter how hard they try and will regret the fact that they let themselves go.”
Instantly the two slim production assistants became slightly chubby production assistants. They had spongy pot bellies instead of abs, little guts that pressed against their shirts and strained their buttons. Their firm asses grew flabby and stretched their pants out threatening to pop the seams in the back if they bent down too quickly. Asami could see how suddenly self-conscious the formerly confident women were. She hoped that this would teach them a lesson and make them better people.
If they didn’t, that’s what the notebook was for.
As she watched the two newly tubby chicks slip back into the shadows so they could complain about their weight to each other, she heard the director call action for the next scene and turned back around to see Melanie getting ready to eat the cake.
“Oink. Oink. Look at this cake. Mmmmmm. It’s perfect for a piggy like me. When I was slim and sexy, I would have made fun of people for wanting to eat cake like this, but nwo I’m a big fat greedy piggy. I’m a glutton for cake. My greedy gut just can’t get enough. You want to see me eat this whole thing, don’t you? Of course you do. And I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna stuff my fat face silly with all this cake, and I bet I’ll still have room for more. This fat girl’s always hungry. But let’s get started. OINK! OINK!”
Melanie tried to hide the fear and shame in her eyes as she sunk her chubby hands into the chocolate cake. This was the greatest turning point in her life, the final condemnation, the acceptance that her old life of glamor was over and that she was committing to being a pig and debasing herself for the amusement of others. As she held the cake in her hand, she thought about how she used to be the one in control, the one who got to make fun of others, and now here she was a submissive piggy ready to stuff her face for the camera.
Her double chin wobbled as she opened her mouth up wide and stuffed it full of cake.
The worst part of it all was that she had to admit that the cake was delicious and she truly wanted more.
So Melanie gave in and stuffed another handful in, then a third, and a fourth. She began to truck through the cake shoveling with jowls shaking as she just kept shoveling it in. The cake was smeared across her chubby cheeks partly from the speed and recklessness with which Melanie was eating, and partly because that’s what she knew her audience would want to see. Crumbs fell into her massive cleavage, and Melanie would occasionally fish some out of there, spreading chocolate icing across the tops of her breasts.
Melanie would oink as she ate, moan as she ate, comment as she ate.
“Soooooo good. I just can’t stop. That’s why I’m so fat. This is going straight to my thunder thighs and my big fat hips. I’m gonna have trouble waddling through doors. I’m such a pig. It’s so humiliating. I deserve to be made fun of. I definitely used to make fun of people way thinner than I am now, so go ahead and let me have it in the comments. I deserve it. Oink. Oink. Oink.”
She kept eating, handful after handful, mangled slices befitting the pig that she was. As she got further into the cake she eventually just shoved her face directly into it and kept on trucking through the cake. When it was done, she couldn’t believe she had eaten the whole thing, and yet an even more horrible thought crawled into her mind.
She still had room for more.
Asami watched Melanie suffer and debase herself and couldn’t be more pleased with the proper punishment she had doled out. She was certain Melanie would have a very popular career as a pig.
And she was happy to know she had her notebook to keep dishing out punishment to those who deserved it.