"Fat Trimmings" Volume 23

Sorry for a bit of a programming change. I got hit with one of those mid-week "Oh suddenly everything is a work crisis thing" and did not get to write as much as planned. But I did get two stories for "Fat Trimmings" done today, and I thought about just posting them tomorrow, but, since I already missed "Fat Trimmings" for last week, I figured why wait?

I thought I would post the stories now and then get right to work on other things, namely Chapter 2 of "Bad Influence" which I still want to tackle before "Nightmare Pigs" and "Scales of Time".

So here is the next volume of "Fat Trimmings" which will continue with volume 24 next Tuesday. Expect a call for story suggestions as a way of making up for the length on this one. And I hope you will also get a kick out of the fact that one of these stories is both based on a patron suggestion and a sequel to "Buffet Buddies".

Enjoy!

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“Cannonballs and Belly Flops”

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She used to be the kind of person who could do lovely swan dives, she could do twists, flips, anything she wanted. There was a time where all of that was easy and expected.

But that was a long time ago. Now it’s just cannonballs and belly flops, big splashes with her big body.

What a lithe girl she used to be, a stellar collegiate athlete, a diving queen. She put others to shame and loved to do it. Long lean limbs cut through the water like a nice, barely leaving a trailer of bubbles. Silence. That’s what was heard when her body hit the water.

Now people cringe as they hear the weight of her blubbery belly slapping against the water. It sounds like her big fat body is a car crash, a heavy slapping sound like loose chicken cutlet slapping against concrete followed by the sound of water bursting up and exploding outward. Then peels of laughter from the spectators catching the splash.

She’s like a big fat rock plonking into the water. The difference is that rocks are known for being solid, and there’s nothing solid about her. She is a big quivering mass of blubber.

Her arms were once lean and sinewy, like blades cutting through the water. Now they are soft and flabby with blown up bingo wings that billow outward like floatation devices. Where once there were clearly defined biceps and triceps there is now nothing but buttery fat that blends together.

Her legs used to be so lean yet strong, defined muscle made for powerful kicks through the water. Now there is nothing powerful about them. There is only the weakness of soft blubbery tissue that jiggles and the slightest movements, slaps together and quivers like jello, and presses her legs outward reducing her confident stride to an awkward shuffling. She once had all the grace of a swan, and now she waddles like an obese penguin. Those chunky cellulite covered thighs, each as wide as her trim waist used to be, are as full of thunder as her mighty splashes.

Once upon a time she has a slender waist with faint but defined abs. It was the kind of waist she loved to show off in bikinis, the kind of thing she loved to brag about. But now she sports a big blubbery belly hidden away in ill-fitting one pieces, and even then it is a loose sack of fat, a mass of undulating fat obvious to all. It is a perfect symbol of her greed and gluttony and why she makes such amazing belly flops. It is a quivering jelly belly, a gelatinous gut.

Her gut is offset by the fat ass cheeks that billow out from under the back of her swimsuits, chunky cellulite covered cheeks that quiver just like the rest of her. When she moves, they ripple like the water that she plunges into. Even her breasts, once pert and perfect her pendulous water balloons, sagging and covered in stretch marks.

This is just who she is now, no longer the slender one who makes others envious. Nobody is envious of her now. 

They used to love to watch her dive. Now they love to watch her fall.

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“Betsy and the Big Man”

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Bocephus Conroy was b-word fat with a big belly, a barrel chest and a double chin that bounced every time he uttered a word, especially if that word began with b. He was a sweaty mess of a man with greased back hair and a greasier smile, and his all white suit was as contrived as his thick southern drawl.

“Now, Miss bBetsy, I’m just a simple man, a family man, a Gawd fearin’ man. And, b-by Gawd, I cannot understand why you have to use your platform to spread such b-blasphmy ab-bout our b-beloved Thick Burger. We’re just a simple- humble- family owned b-business.”

In complete contrast with Mr. Conroy and at the other end of a long conference table, sat Ms. Betsy Jones. Elizabeth Jone styled herself as an investigative journalist and considered herself something of a pioneer as a newsfluencer, using her strong social media following spread her own often hastily put together reports of issues that she found she could give an easy clickbaity slant to. With Thick Burger it was easy. Food makes people fat. Being fat is bad. Thick Burger is bad. 

“Mr. Conroy, your southern gentleman shtick might work on the masses, but it won’t work on me. I went to college. Thick Burger is a multinational corporation with franchises on six different continents.”

“Now Ms. bBetsy, we can b-both b-be honest with ourselves. We know that our Antarctica franchise is really more of a publicity stunt than anything else.”

“You’re a b-billion dollar b-business, Mr. Conroy,” said Betsy in voice clearly meant to mock Bocephus’ distinct speaking pattern.

“And still family owned and operated, Ms. bBetsy. We are very proud of that,” responded Bocephus with a calm adjustment of his tie.

He gestured to a large painting behind him, a portrait of muscular man standing next to an absolute blob of a woman, a large ball of fat with her fat hands barely able to reach other as they rested on her voluminous belly. She was decorated with a number of medals and champions adorned the walls behind her. The portrait was labeled “Our Founders Shane and Dinah “The All Valley Eating Queen” Conroy.

Betsy recoiled in disgust at the sight of the picture. She couldn’t understand how a woman could let themselves get so fat let alone be proud of it- and have others be proud of it!

Betsy was young and stylish. She was slender with a body that she knew was sexy- not that she would ever stand for someone saying so to her face. She was the kind of prim and proper lady who insisted on the use of Ms. instead of Miss to disguise her youth and present herself as more experienced. She was smart and ambitious, and she hoped this meeting with Bocephus Conroy would give her plenty to use for her next podcast. She didn’t actually expect Bocephus to apologize or admit guilt in any way. She just hoped that she could goad him into being aggressive and slimy enough to give her enough ammo for a quality character assassination

“Are you proud of the fact that Thick Burger is a major contributor to the obesity epidemic that plagues this country and threatens the globe, that you’re responsible for the rise in the variety of ills that come from this epidemic?”

“Now Ms. bBetsy, when my parents, Gawd may they rest in peace- They’re not dead, just retired- When they handed the reigns of this company, they said, ‘bBocephus, our b-ig, b-beautiful, b-bouncy, b-baby b-boy,” they said “son you have got to uphold this company’s values.”

Bocephus pulled a handkerchief from his suit pocket and used it to dab some fake tears from his eyes and some real sweat from his forehead.

“And since I took over as President and CEO, I have always strived to remember what this company stands for, what it b-believes in. Good food. A sense of community. And freedom.”

At this point, Bocephus began to walk his way down toward the other end of the table while carrying on the the cadence of a well practiced sermon from an experienced preacher.

“Freedom, each person’s Gawd given right. The freedom to choose how many super thick patties you want between your choice of buns with your choice of toppings on top. Freedom them to choose without limits- except for our limited time promotional products. Freedom, the core value that this fine country was founded on.”

Bocephus held a hand to his heart.

“Now, I know that in times we are a livin’ in, it’s not as cool to love this country. bBut I ask you, Ms. bBetsy. Why do you hate freedom?”

Betsy in response pressed her palms against the table and sat up as straight as she could.

“I hate what your product does to people, Mr. Conroy. I hate the way your advertisements entice innocent victims who then eat themselves into obesity.”

“Well, then tell me, Ms. bBetsy. Have you ever actually tried one of our classic Thick Burgers?”

“Of course not,” Betsy scoffed with a disgusted shake of her head.

“Then how could you possibly tell us we’re b-bad?”

“Because I can see the results. A bunch of fat people.”

“Fat and happy people.”

“How can people be happy if they’re fat? How can they be happy eating your crap?”

Bocephus paused for a moment seemingly genuinely wounded by this particular insult. And then a slow, grin crept across his face as if he had just come to a decision that he was very happy with.

“Ms. bBetsy, I will make a deal with you. If can have just one b-bit of one of our burgers and then put it down, I will personally issue an apology live on the social media streaming platform of your choosing. And Thick Burger will make a strong commitment to creating healthier options. We’ll even add apple slices to the menu.”

Bocephus leaned forward on the table. The wood groaned under his girth as he got closer to Betsy than ever before.

“But I do b-believe that you will not be able to put it down, and when we have successfully converted you to our way of thinking, I am certain you will b-be b-begging my to b-be one of our b-brand ambassadors.”

Betsy, never one to back down, simply sat even straighter in her seat and didn’t let Bocephus see her flinch.

“Mr. Conroy. You’re on.”

Mr. Conroy only had to turn his head and there was already a cart being wheeled in with a tray, and on that tray was the most mouthwatering burger that Betsy had ever laid her eyes on. The smell of it reached her nose long before her fingers could reach it, and as she finally held it in her hands and inspected it closely, her stomach was rumbling despite the fact that she had already eaten a lightly dressed salad for lunch before coming over here.

“I think you’re really going to enjoy this one, Ms. bBetsy. It’s our top seller. This here has two patties with cheese along with b-bacon and avocado. Don’t you worry. That’s the good kind of fat.”

The sensation of the burger hitting her tastebuds was like Betsy had never tasted a burger before. It was like she had never eaten before! She suddenly felt as if her whole life she had been wandering lost until she was given a cool glass of water in a desert of flavor. Even as a little bit of grease ran down her chin, the normally prim and proper young lady didn’t care. She was too busy staring wide eyed in contemplation.

Betsy knew she should put the burger down. She knew all she had to do was put it down and win the day. Hell… she could even sneak into a Thick Burger and order the same thing later on. She just needed to win. She just needed to put it down. She just needed….

To take another bite. And a third. And to let the grease drip down her chin as she took progressively larger bite after bite. She didn’t know when they did it, but at some point, loaded cheese fries were put in front of her, and Betsy began to alternate between them and the piece of heaven called a burger.

“Mmmph this is just mmm so mmph phuup phuu Oh God just mppph sooooo gooooood.”

She was practically drooling as she finished the first burger with a mighty belch and let her nose be led by the wafting scene of a second burger awaiting her on a plate held by Bocephus.

“Now this here burger has onion rings on it and is smother in our signature b-barbecue sauce.”

With trembling hands, Betsy reached forward and clutched the burger.

“Y-you know…. Apple slices and some goat cheese on one of these would actually be a really great combination.”

Bochepus Conroy let out a great big belly laugh as Betsy practically unhinged her jaw to take a huge bite of her second burger.

“Why, Ms. bBetsy, I do declare this to b-be the b-beginning of a b-beaUtiful friendship.”