ROYAL REWARD: Foodfight: Berry Bonanza! (Berry Inflation)

The lights snapped on with a click, revealing the gloopy-haired form of Taberu, her fat boobs stretching her blouse and her even fatter thighs straining against her short shorts. 

“Hi, everyone! Welcome back to another exciting episode of Foodfight!, nya!” Striding into the center of the stage, she waved an encouraging paw at the audience. “If nyou’re just tuning in, nyou’re in luck, because nyou’ve joined us just in time for anyother round of Fruit Machine! Nyaaaay!” 

Even as Taberu cheered, the contestants shuffled uncomfortably behind their podiums. Only  three of the four contestants remained, the fourth having already been blended into a delicious man-made smoothie, and neither they nor the crowd were looking forward to what was to come. 

Not that Taberu cared. “Bring in The Machine!” she cried, and with a roar of canned applause from the speakers, the center of the stage opened, producing a film of smoke that shrouded the stage like a deep sea mist. From these depths rose a great, one-armed kraken: a gigantic slot machine, its wheels covered in plump pictures of fruit.

“For those of nyou who’ve nyever seen us play this game before, let me explain,” said Taberu, flicking a knowing glance at the cameras. “Fruit Machine! is reaaaaaaallly simple! Each of our contestants takes a turn pulling this gigantic lever, and we transform them based on what they roll! Ta-da! Any questions?!” 

One of the contestants raised her hand, but Taberu simply ignored it. 

“Nyow, let’s find out who’s going first,” said the catgirl, aiming at her microphone at the stands. On cue, they began to light up in sequence, one after the other, growing faster and faster until at last the light came to a stop on–

“Sakura!” cried Taberu. “Congratulations! Nyou get to pull the lever first, nya!” 

The pink-haired girl behind the podium quivered like a frightened animal, looking more likely to cry than actually take a productive action. In the end, Taberu went and grabbed her, dragging out from behind her stand and towards the giant machine filling the stage like a heathen idol. 

“Go on, nya,” said the catgirl, planting the girl’s hand on the slot machine’s handle–it was so large, this required some stretching. 

Swallowing, Sakura looked left and right, clearly hoping someone would appear to save her. When this inevitably failed, she screwed up her eyes, took a deep breath, and jumped, using her entire body weight to pull the giant lever down.  

As the bandit’s arm reached the nadir of its arc, the machine lit up and started to play a jaunty tune, while its equally gigantic slots turned like the cylinders of three especially fruity revolvers. 

“Ooo, what’s it going to be?” said Taberu. “What’s it going to be this time? Maybe a little inflation? Maybe it’ll make her skin blue? Maybe we’ll even get to turn her into a berry, nya? Ooo, I can’t wait to find out!” 

The slots spun, images of fruit and berries flying past with speed. Finally, with a clunk, the leftmost slot stopped on a big bunch of berries.

“Ooo, it’s the Berry Bonanza!” said Taberu. “That means we’re guaranteed to turn someone into a berry!” 

Sakura whimpered. 

With a clunk, the second slot stopped on a bunch of berries as well. 

“Wow!” cried Taberu. “That’s two Berry Bonanzas! If we get three, well….” She flicked a knowing glance at the crowd, which shuffled uncomfortably in their seats. 

Finally, with a clunk, the last slot came to a stop. Like the others, it too bore the image of a bunch of plump berries, stacked and juicy and just waiting to be plopped into a mouth. 

Taberu burst into laughter. “Wow! Three Berry Bonanzas! That’s, like, a million to one odds, nya! …Nyou guys wanna know what it means?” She smirked, baring a hint of teeth.

Sakura stumbled backward, shaking her head in terror. Taberu ignored her. 

“Eh, it’d be easier just to show nyou, nya.” Raising a hand, she snapped. 

Above, a giant pointer snapped out of the ceiling and whirled into life, its tip crackling with effervescent pink juice as it spun, seemingly searching for a target. Unlike normal, it didn’t stop: it just kept spinning, faster and faster, until at last–

With a hideous zap, lightning flew. One giant bolt after another. 

The first bolt struck Sakura, who screamed as her skin turned blue and her features swelled, her breasts straining to escape her blouse while her fattening buttcheeks lifted her skirt. Blueberry juice dripped from between her legs as she inflated, bloating into a fat, inhumanly large berry, ten meters or more in diameter and squirming and juicy. Flapping her hands, she squealed and spluttered, but all she could do was roll slightly from side to side, the juice filling her sloshing with the motion.

And she wasn’t the only one affected. Before Sakura’s transformation had even finished, bolts slammed into the podiums, transforming the other contestants–Hina and Megumi–into a bloated raspberry and strawberry. Trapped closely together, they could only moan as their swollen assets rubbed, making them leak even faster. 

“That’s right!” cried Taberu. “It’s going to turn everyone into berries, nya! Nyahahaha!” 

As she laughed, bolt after violent bolt sailed into the crowd watching, striking the audience as they struggled to flee the stands. Not that they had a chance, of course: the pointer mowed them down like the Light Brigade, swelling them one by one into fat, juicy, moaning berries, their jiggly, leaky tits spewing juice all over the place. There were blackberries, grapes, tomatoes, melons. Even a couple of eggplants.

(“Eggplant is a berry too, nya,” said Taberu, helpfully.) 

Finally, the last member of the crowd vanished, replaced by an egregiously swollen pumpkin, and with that the pointer finally wound down and stopped moving. 

“Ta-da!” cried Taberu. “Wow, that was crazy, nya!” Raising her hand to shield her eyes, she surveyed the crowd with a disbelieving expression. “I can’t believe it. A million to one odds, and we got a triple Berry Bonanza again! It’s crazy!” She shook her head. 

“Hmm,” she added, leaning on Sakura’s swollen buttock. “I wonder what we should do nyow though, nya… I mean, I’ve still got half an hour of television to film.” She tapped her chin, brow wrinkled in thought. 

With an almost audible ding!, the sparkle returned to her eyes. “Oh, I know! Let’s make a big fruit salad, nya!” 

The speakers opened a fresh can of applause.