Fibonacci Spiral

Day Zero

Garth stood, staring at the battered an ancient oil lamp he’d just unearthed in his “eccentric” Great Uncle’s house. He took a few steps closer to the tall shelf, brushing a smear of dust off of the Golden Curve screen-print on the shirt he was wearing, the hem of his shirt flapped over a crescent of underbelly hanging free. 

Grunk had always had horrible luck, according to his mom at least, until he’d somehow managed to get through graduate school and join a team of anthropologists and ecologists for research in the Middle East. After his trip to Saudi Arabia, his luck had changed abruptly, and Grunk had gone from collecting debt to collecting curios like the one Garth was staring at atop the shelf. This was all before he’d been born, but his mom swore Grunk’s luck had done a 180 faster than she’d ever seen. 

That, of course, didn’t make much difference now. Grunkle Joe had passed away childless and had left his fortune to him, Garth, skipping his last living sibling and his niece completely. The portly young man huffed softly as he shifted another box to get a closer look at the oil lamp. “God, imagine if it was the real thing.” He muttered to himself, glad of any excuse to stop shifting dusty boxes and sorting through his Grunk’s junk. 

Sure, Joe had left him enough money to pay for a service to sort and sell anything he didn’t want to keep. However, there was a clause in Joe’s will which firmly suggested he sort the basement first…on his own. Irritated at first he’d decided he had nothing to lose for it, and got to work. Every few boxes he shifted he had to stop and catch his breath, and reassure himself that Grunk must have had a good reason for asking him to sort the basement alone. 

What that reason might be, Garth couldn’t guess, but hopefully that meant Grunk had left him something interesting. That’s how Joseph O’Donnell was, whenever he’d had a gift for Garth he made him work for it. It was usually a treasure hunt, so this didn’t surprise him in the least. 

His stomach rumbled and he grimaced, it was probably past lunch time now. Garth thought of his greatly enhanced budget and indulged himself in a short daydream about doing some restaurant hopping…or buying the entirety of a bakery’s stock. He felt a little guilty about it, but that was the first, and really only, application Garth had imagined for his inheritance, to grow as fat as he possibly could. Plus with the wealth he’d also be able to afford top notch health care to grow past his current, “only” obese size.

He slipped between the two stacks of boxes in front of the shelf with his eyes still on the lamp, his plump paunch brushing against the cardboard causing his shirt to lift up a little more and crumple the design of the Fibonacci spiral. Garth reached up to take the lamp off of the high shelf, his belly nearly on full display as he stretched up to reach it. 

“This has gotta be an antique, probably worth a small fortune…” He murmured looking at the Arabic script etched around the base. The handle was warm in his hand and he shivered slightly before putting it aside on a nearby box. Not that he’d need money from selling his uncle’s treasures. 

Garth was about to get back to sorting when he noticed a note that had been underneath the lamp. He took the yellowed slip of paper with shaking hands, remembering how the handle of the lamp had been warm to his touch, and more importantly if this is why Grunk had put that clause in his will then he was DONE with sorting! 

Garth, my boy! This is what I wanted you to find! It is for you, and YOU ALONE! Be kind to the granter, whom has been my friend and companion for decades, and use it to grant yourself your dearest desires. May this gift grant you your biggest dreams! Use it to bring yourself the happiness you deserve.

-Your Grunkle, Joseph O’Donnell

“Be kind to the granter…” Garth murmured, looking back at the lamp. Maybe he was imagining it but the antique seemed to beckon to him. It seemed eager to be handled again, and he hadn’t noticed how dusty the lamp was over the Arabic script around the base…he felt compelled to wipe it clean so he could see it better. This was despite, of course, the fact that he knew neither how to read or speak the language. 

With trembling hands, he reached for the lamp again, and could have sworn it slide toward his palm before he took the handle. Garth mopped his forehead with the back of his free hand, then took a handkerchief from his pocket and gently brushed at the etching. 

The lamp shuddered in his hand and the script glittered brightly. A booming voice suddenly filled the basement “Ahh! It has been so long! Joseph assured me you would get to this more quickly!” 

A flash of silver light and diffuse smoke burst from the lamp’s spout and suddenly, hovering cross-legged near the ceiling above Garth as if seated, a man appeared. He was enormous, quite possibly the fattest man Garth had ever seen in person, his belly filled the space between his crossed legs and drooped over his ankles slightly. The small vest the man wore hardly covered a quarter of his massively well-padded chest. 

Garth just gawked for a moment, torn between a sudden heart wrenching jealousy at how obese this man was and doing mental gymnastics trying to convince himself that the fat man most certainly was not a genie…which, if Garth was honest with himself, was a hard sell. Finally, the feeling came back into his legs and he staggered back a few steps, knocking over a box that made an awful racket as it fell and scattered bits of broken porcelain and china across the floor. 

“Oh…tsk tsk tsk. Joseph also didn’t mention your clumsiness.” The fat man said, his tone gently chiding but his expression kind and jovial. “Though, you’re hardly to blame, scarcely room to stand here.” The man, who clearly was a genie, snapped his fingers and suddenly the boxes were gone, all over the basement. Replaced with several crates by the back door. “I took the liberty of finishing up for you. Everything I think you’ll find of interest is there; you can look through it at your leisure now.” 

Garth still couldn’t speak, but his mind as racing. The genie lit softly on the floor in front of him. Though they were standing several feet apart the genie’s girth sloped mere inches away from Garth’s own paunch. He couldn’t help but stare, envious and amazed. 

“I am Makhah, The Gourmand!” The vast genie said, taking a half step forward that bumped his enormous girth against Garth and extending his hand. 

“I am…well it seems you already know me. But I’m Garth O’Donnell, Joe’s nephew.” He said shaking the proffered pudgy mitt of a hand. “S-so…that’s how Grunkle Joe turned his life around.” 

“Well, he had ideas, but couldn’t get them started. Until he rescued me from a dank pit in an ancient ruin I thought perhaps no hand would ever find my vessel again, so it was a pleasure to help your uncle reach his dreams.” Makhah rumbled and looked upward, seeming forlorn. It felt more polite to Garth to look away from Makhah’s face while he wiped a small tear from the corner of his eye, so he cast his gaze over the massive being’s wardrobe. 

Makhah was wearing what amounted to stereotypical genie garb but with a modern twist. His adipose stuffed arms plumed out of the denim vest like great tan pillows. The hem of the vest extended to just below his heavy sagging moobs, leaving the genie’s wide soft and drooping girth uncovered…which in turn covered most of his parachute pants. Altogether, the only part of Makhah’s vestments that wouldn’t look out of place at some 80’s revival concert was his red fez with its golden tassel. 

Meanwhile, the genie composed himself and addressed Garth again. “Well, even after that first favor of retrieving my lamp from that dark crypt, your uncle Joseph continued to treat me as a cherished friend and ally throughout the 50 years I stayed in his services. I granted him two wishes; to launch his wilderness gear company, and relieving him of a terminal illness a few years later.” 

Makhah looked Garth over, clearly sizing him up and wondering whether he deserved the same trust and respect that the djinn obviously had for Joe. “Your great uncle asked me to remain in his estate until you came to survey your inheritance, and requested that I grant you at least one wish.” 

Garth swallowed quietly, his mind immediately buzzing with fantasies of growing to impossibly obese sizes. But he reigned his imagination in and cleared his throat. “Uhm...hm-hm, well I guess…I wish to never experience any hindrance gaining weight or problems of any kind relating to diet and obesity no matter how fat I get.” 

Whatever Makhah was expecting, it clearly wasn’t this. The genie blinked and planted his fists on his lovehandles; his pudgy hands sank deep into his soft rolls. “Truly? Very well.” Then, with a small grin forming on his lips, Makhah lifted one hand and snapped his fingers. He blew gently over his thumb and a glimmering shower of silvery dust wafted over Garth. 

Garth felt immediate warmth and a slight shocking sensation, which pulsed over his body and made him twitch. But as quickly as the sensation had occurred, it was gone. The pudgy young man felt over his body and was surprised to note that a few of his fresh stretch marks, bright red that morning, looked weeks old now. “Huh…I guess being immune to all fatso issues also means quick recovery time.” Garth murmured to himself. 

“Indeed,” Makhah said, a quizzical expression creased his jovial features. “Strange that, these days, someone already quite plump would wish it easier to grow fatter.” The obese genie took a step forward and poked one of his plump digits into Garth’s belly, eliciting a surprised chuckle. “I have had wishes such as these asked before, but not for many centuries. I think…I shall stay with you a while yet Garth, nephew of my friend Joseph. Your desires…intrigue me.”

Garth was staring at Makhah, heart thudding and extremely nervous for some reason. “It uh…it intrigues you?” He finally asked, wondering if he was about to be judged. However, the moment that thought occurred to him he found it ludicrous. Makhah, or at least the form Makhah was in now, must weigh over 950 pounds. He shook his head and tried to pull himself together.

“Yes,” The genie said with absolute seriousness, nodding slowly. That smile crept over Makhah’s pudgy face again and he snapped his fingers. 

With a whirl of silver smoke, the basement wavered out of sight and was replaced with the dining hall upstairs. Garth staggered and gasped, falling into one of the heavy ornate oak chairs around the table.

“Don’t look so surprised, young Garth. I can do as I please now; I said your uncle made two wishes a few moments ago. Which is true, he made two wishes for himself, for his own desires. But then, he did make a third wish as well, to free me.” Makhah smiled, his fat features lit with so much happiness that Garth couldn’t help feeling buoyed by it too. “Your…Grunkle Joe said that was something he desired. For why should he be at liberty to do as he chose, and not I.”

“B-but, if you’re free...doesn’t that mean your powers are…gone or something?” Garth blabbered, trying to remember what he could about how genies worked from his high school mythology class.

“Oh no, no not at all.” Makhah laughed heartily and his massive sloping belly bounced and wobbled around. “That is something we Djinn feign to avoid being bound to a single master for eternity.” Makhah continues to chuckle as he gestures to a chair nearby which scoots toward him, then sparkles and widens enough to accommodate his wide rump. The genie sits down. “My kind simply cite the binding as limiting our power after the third wish, or feign powerlessness if freed in cases where we still distrust our former master. Though I must be honest, I do not know many of my kind who have been released.” 

“So…uh, why did you agree to grant me a wish even though you were free?” Garth asked, though as he said the words he couldn’t help being distracted by the smells of food being prepared in the kitchens. His stomach rumbled, he was very hungry suddenly.

“Well, young Garth,” Makhah beamed, “It’s as I’ve said. I was very fond of your uncle, and he was always kind to me. So I wanted to honor his request.” The genie grinned more widely a moment later. “But I can see you’re hungry. Let me help remedy that, no wish required.” Makhah snapped his fingers again and the table was suddenly laden with dozens of platters and serving dishes. Garth moaned and his stomach rumbled again loudly. 

“Ohhh man…thank you!” Garth groaned before leaning forward to grab the nearest plate of food. Makhah made a slight gesture and the dishes all slid to within easier reach for Garth. 

“So my friend, while you feast I wonder if you’ve put any thought toward more wishes.” The genie smiled at Garth as the young man plowed through his first serving and began to heap food back onto the plate. 

“Mmph…more wishes?” Garth said in a muffled groan, all manners forgotten for the moment. “I thought…” He paused and gulped down the mouthful of gravy and mashed potatoes he’d been talking through. “I thought I only got one.” 

“I can grant as many as I like, and well. I get a feeling for people when I grant them a wish. Moreover, I can feel that you are like your uncle, kind. More than that though, I can sense that we two are also alike. After all, I am called The Gourmand for a very good reason.” The genie chuckled and gave his large belly a firm slap, sending ripples through the dark tan flesh. “You intrigue me, and I wish to see how far your desire for girth will go.” 

Garth actually stopped eating, the fork slipped from his hand and clattered by the plate. For a second time the image of his body so inflated with adipose that it could dominate whole rooms…or buildings…flitted through his head. He shook himself again, and could feel his belly gurgle and bounce a bit from the movement. “Oh…uh, well I don’t think I should get too hasty. Let’s just enjoy this dinner for now, and you can…heh…help my growth along however you like while I eat!” 

Makhah grinned even more widely, his tan skin taking on a somewhat purple hue for a moment, “Very well, my friend. What do you say to being able to eat twice as much as you normally could?” The obese genie held out his hand, ready to make it so. 

“Yes please!” Garth said, forgetting the “operative” word. However, that didn’t seem to matter to Makhah in this case, as a moment later he snapped his fingers and Garth’s stomach gurgled as if he hadn’t eaten in days. The plump man began to eat much faster. 

Makhah sat back, watching the young man eat with his feet propped up on an ornate stool. The genie crossed his ankles and hummed cheerily while Garth gorged himself silly. 

Garth could feel his stomach swelling outward with more and more food as he glutted himself. He had started out this morning at 390 pounds, only a little plump on his tall frame, but he was willing to bet that a scale would report 400 pounds already. Just from how much he’d eaten, though he also suspected that some of the tightness he was feeling in his clothing was due to added adipose. 

***

Garth ate for what felt like literal hours, and probably were. At first, he just gorged and gorged and gorged, wondering when he would feel any kind of discomfort from fullness. Eventually he reasoned that twice his normal appetite would be equal to over 50 slices of pizza at the local buffet, so he could expect to be eating for some time yet. Though, even when fullness did start to encroach Makhah offered him a glass of some kind of glittering liqueur. 

“It will help your appetite, my friend.” The obese djinn said with a wink and a pat on Garth’s belly, which was now quite bloated and hanging out of his t-shirt for a couple of inches. 

“Oooph, thanks! I was just starting to slow down.” Garth quaffed the glass without thought, and felt his stomach relax immediately. He still felt full, but it was the glowing...warm and soft fullness that usually meant he was good for several more servings. He began to eat again, finally finding a good rhythm to speak with Makhah between mouthfuls. 

“So what was that?” The absurdity of asking that after drinking it struck Garth as funny, and he couldn’t help but laugh. Though it was as Makhah had said, the more he talked to the better his sense of the being became. “It definitely helps with fullness!”

“Just a brew that I have used in ages past, when the desire to grow fat as a marker of social standing was more common. You will be able to eat as long as you want now, essentially. You’ll still feel how acute your fullness is, but it won’t hinder you or cause discomfort.” The djinn said, now rubbing Garth’s bloated belly. “I expect you should wake up tomorrow morning with a significant increase in weight.” 

“God I hope so…” Garth groaned into a large cheeseburger, “It feels so weird saying stuff like that out loud. But this is amazing…it’s like the dreams I used to have when I was younger. No boundaries…I can eat as much as I want…get as FAT as I want.” Garth shivered again, the urge stronger than ever to wish for something ludicrous like gaining 50 pounds a minute. “I think I’ll have a much more fattening wish for tomorrow.” 

“Consider my interest in the future of your wishes piqued.” Makhah chuckled sitting back in his chair again and making complicated little twirling motions with his fingers. The food on the table began to cycle in front of Garth’s seat like a conveyor belt at one of those fancy sushi buffets. “But for now, eat. Eat as much as you please, I’ve never yet found a limit to the amount of food I can provide. So do not worry about exhausting my magicks.” 

Garth flushed a dull pink in his cheeks, once more thinking very…VERY fat thoughts. In order to give himself a few more moments to consider a reply, if he chose to give one anyway, he began stuffing his face with wild abandon once more. His stomach felt like a bowling ball…or a wrecking ball. The part of his brain that processed the sensation of fullness knew that he should be in tears from pain at this point, but instead he only felt a vague weight and warmth. His belly was starting to dig into the table. Finally, after what felt another several hours, Garth pushed himself away from the table. 

“I think it’s time for me to sleep this off…or on as it were.” He chuckled and patted his huge globose girth. “Oooph, I wonder how much I ate…” Garth murmured, hefting his belly experimentally. 

“Well, what was your weight earlier today?” Makhah asked, his tone light and encouraging. When Garth turned to look at him and give his answer he wasn’t too surprised to see the obese djinn holding a scale. Makhah smiled and put it on the floor between them.

“I weighed 390 pounds a few days ago, but I could have been as heavy as like…394 this morning.” Garth said a little breathlessly as he waddled over to stand on the scale, which beeped electronically. “Oooph, I can’t see the readout.” He observed and started to laugh, which turned into a long belch. 

Makhah glanced down helpfully, “You, my friend, are tipping the scales at 416 pounds now. A difference of at least 22 pounds.” The corpulent genie clapped, causing his plump arms and cascading girth to wobble. “Well done my friend, it seems you will grow quite fat indeed!”