Year of the Tiger- Part 4

Terry's ready to throw his weight around! Happy Year of the Tiger, all.

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Barry led his brothers into a small, empty theater. The tiger dancers had gotten the invitation from Terry, their prodigal brother, who had finally returned to Zootopia. None of them had laid eyes on their middle sibling since he had taken a break from their dancing troupe, and were all eager to see his solo act.

"Alright, hey guys!" Terry's voice echoed over the theater's sound system. "Everyone here?"

Barry glanced at Jerry, arching his brow. "Uh… yeah, Terry. Is there a reason you're hiding behind the curtain?"

"Well, you know, a little showmanship- this act's a little… exotic, so I want you all to keep an open mind," Terry announced.

The curtain on the stage rose up, followed by a loud, energetic beat, featuring sitars, drums, and horns with an electric touch. The lights came up, and every tiger dancer's jaw dropped.

Their brother was almost unrecognizable. Terry was wider around than he was tall, his enormous, cream-colored belly spilling over his hips and reaching down to the stage floor, his stripes strung taut and warped over his enormous torso. He wore baggy, shimmering blue pants that somehow wrapped around trunk-sized legs and a round, blubbery rear, and a red and gold vest that hung limp at his sides, pushed aside by his pillow-like chest and the sides of his tank of a middle. His bare arms were swathed in lard, and with each step, there was a subtle jiggle in his tire-like double chin and his round cheeks. Even his tail was fattened up to an overly thick rope, swinging side-to-side like a weighty pendulum.

And yet, despite all of this enormous weight, Terry was moving with remarkable deft smoothness. He had to arch his back slightly, practically juggling his own massive belly to keep it from smacking against the floor. His steps were heavy, yet precise- the stageboards trembled under his weight, but rippled in rhythm to the music. Terry was somehow moving like water, leaning into the way his belly swayed with each turn, every jiggle of his frame and rippling of fat seemingly deliberate. He swayed his rubenesque hips, literally throwing his weight around with enough confidence to look like he owned the stage. The dance ended, with Terry striking a pose, showing the vast, sprawling width of his profile, a trained, and slightly strained, smile on his face. He was desperately trying to hide how heavy he was panting to catch his breath; he may have trained to stay a dancer, but that didn't change the fact he was carrying an excess of five hundred extra pounds on his frame.

"So…" he began, after a painfully long pause from his brothers. None of them had clapped. "W-what do you guys think?"

Barry, his jaw fallen open and his eyes wide in disbelief, stood up. "Terry," he began, struggling to keep his voice level. "What on earth did you do to-?"

"-Move like that?" Jerry cut in, jumping from his seat. "I've never seen dancing with so much… heft! Presence, I suppose."

Gary was the next to stand up. "Can you teach us some of those moves? Where did you learn them?"

Terry felt a wave of relief wash over him. "You- you guys liked it?"

Larry, the youngest, chuckled. "I mean, it's definitely… unique, but you made it all your own, Terry- we couldn't stop watching!"

Terry turned back to Barry, his grin dimpling his cheeks. "So…what do you think, Barry? Can I keep the solo act?"

Barry's mouth thinned. He looked to the others, and with a heavy sigh, relented. "We can talk about it… over lunch." He held up his hand. "But, you're paying for yourself, Terry."

The overly stuffed tiger grinned sheepishly, jaw dipping into his multiple chins. "Yeah, that's fair."