The Straight and (not so) Narrow: Part 5

Less than a month after the humiliating incident in which the aid of several students had to be enlisted to haul an overfed, painfully unfit Shane to his feet, he found himself moaning on his couch absolutely surrounded by wrappers and fast food bags, the entire mess only a day's worth of his gluttony. Humiliating himself in front of his small group only drove Shane deeper into his now laughable denial, and he was piling on the weight even more quickly as he upped the ante with each meal. He'd snapped his home office chair just last week, a humiliation that was at least more private than the previous, and the more clothing and furniture that succumbed to his weight, the more accustomed Shane was becoming to the destructive nature of his hulking new size.

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He took another enormous bite of the burger clutched in his hand as his other stroked his overfull middle in soothing circles, the empty extra large fry cartons from Mcdonalds evincing how much he was enjoying his 4th delivery of the day. His face was drowning in fat and it was as if his features were being swallowed, transformed entirely by his inability to control himself. His body had grown even larger and he was beginning to feel himself taking up more space. Feel the arms of his couch approaching his fatty hips, feel the lack of sufficient distance as he passed through his doorframes.

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He pressed a greasy palm into his gut, pushing out a loud burp, and shoved the rest of the burger in his mouth in a bite so big it almost looked painful, already unwrapping the next as he struggled to chew. The sizes of his meals had become outlandish, and his most recent order of 4 larger fries, two double quarter pounders, a big mac, a 20 piece chicken nugget, and two extra large vanilla shakes had barely served to fill him despite the fact that he’d been stuffing himself mercilessly all day.

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A triple chin was quickly encroaching on his neck, the extra pocket of fat making him look like the poster child for the obesity epidemic, and he’d gotten so enormous and slobbishly unfit that he was panting as he sat on the couch, the only exertion he was capable of the motion of his lard laden arms as he brought another bite to his mouth. He ignored the creaking of the couch, certain that the seating meant for three couldn't possibly collapse underneath him despite the evidence suggesting otherwise, and gulped down another swallow of his shake that he chased with the remaining half of an open pint of heavy cream sitting in front of him.

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He burped raucously and moaned, feeling his sodium bloated body bounce in response to the effort. While his gut still had yet to hang significantly as he stuffed himself so quickly his figure struggled to adapt, he had grown incredibly doughy of late, and he found his body undulating long after his intentional movement ceased. He grunted as he reached for another carton, his belly a near insurmountable obstacle, and was sweating lightly by the time he inched himself forward far enough to grab the calorie dense drink from the coffee table.

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Every action had become a struggle that showcased just how big Shane had gotten, just how greedy he’d been, and as he opened the bottle and upending it above his waiting lips he began to grope the expanse of his body with his other hand as if he’d just discover how gargantuan he’d become. Nothing fit him anymore, his last sizing up now more than two months earlier, and as he gripped the armsfuls of fat bulging out his middle he sighed to himself, even the mind numbing cream not enough to repress his thoughts. He needed new clothes for tomorrow's church picnic.

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He’d promised he would attend, feeling he owed Assistant Pastor Morgan the fulfillment of her request considering she’d covered his group for him the day he’d broken his desk chair with his over-fattened ass, but he was regretting the choice immensely. Beyond having nothing to wear, he was dreading spending the day surrounded by others and therefore unable to feed himself to his heart's desire.

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He gasped, finishing the carton in one breath, and gave his gut a few firm pats. He would make a quick appearance, he promised himself. That was all.

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The next day, stuffed into 4xl shorts and a 5xl top he’d been forced to overnight, Shane waddled towards the crowd in a nearby park, the sound of laughter and voices floating towards him. The walk from the parking lot had been longer than he’d expected and Shane was all but spent, wheezing and struggling as he waddled towards the gathered church members. He was less than 20 feet away, well within eyeshot of the rest of the party, when he finally had to admit to himself that the short walk was too much for him, that he’d grown so terribly obese that he’d eaten away the option of basic, everyday movement.

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He stopped at the picnic table in front of him and sat, barely able to maneuver his ass onto the seat and finding it even more difficult to squeeze his belly between the bench and the table, a space that would've been more than ample for most.

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He sat there panting, attempting to catch his breath and thinking about how hungry the walk had made him, when Pastor Morgan approached with a plate teaming with fresh barbecue.

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“Shane?” she asked, obvious pity in her eyes. “You catching your breath?”

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Shane nodded shamefully, his eyes affixed to the table.

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“Well,” Pastor Morgan continued. “I brought you a little food. I know you get hungry,” she said, sliding the almost offensively oversized portions of ribs, a burger, a hotdog, and mountains of sides in his direction.

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Shane accepted the offering gratefully and the two of them chatted while he made quick work of the plate, so lost in his conversation he failed to realize just how quickly he had inhaled everything.

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“Want some more?” Pastor Morgan offered when his plate was clear, already standing.

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The rest of the event continued in kind, with Shane's plan to make an early exit entirely forgotten as first Pastor Morgan, then Emily, then other friends and small group members began to bring Shane plate after plate, most entirely unaware of just how much he’d eaten before they approached.

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Each person felt they were doing the kind thing, helping out Shane so he didn't have to exert himself, and each person contributed to the way he was pressing into the picnic table by the event's end. He was so overstuffed he could hardly walk, and he was mortified to hear his students giggle behind him as he waddled to the car he was beginning to find uncomfortably small.

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A year after his first day as a small group leader, Shane woke up in his bed surrounded by wrappers and fast food bags darkened by day-old grease, his tendency to fall asleep in the middle of a stuffing more consistent than any other habit in his life. He attempted to push himself into a sitting position and a deep burp slipped between Shane's plump lips before he could stop himself, making him blush despite his solitude. He’d gotten so heavy he could barely heave himself out of bed anymore, and what's worse, he couldn't even roll over without an involuntary burp forcing its way out of his overstuffed beach ball of a gut.

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He was beginning to feel like a sentient pile of lard, so fat that even his denial didn’t serve as a cushion for him to fall back on anymore. He still refused to weigh himself, but if he had, he would've discovered that he broke the 400 pound barrier nearly 17 pounds ago, and at 5’9, it was no wonder he was struggling to lift himself.

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He made a second attempt, then a third, and finally sat up, his lard pile of a gut immediately forcing his tubby thighs apart and resting solidly on the surface of his bed. He reached for a pack of oreos and frowned as he realized it was empty, then sighed and began the process of rolling his greed-fattened body out of bed, an ordeal that was taking more and more of his time each morning.

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As usual, Shane was starving. He needed something to eat.