The witch realized there was too much risk involved. The longer she kept Gretel around, the longer she had to keep Hansel around, and truth be told, he wasn’t worth it. Oh sure, she could have probably fattened him up down the road, but that was before little miss potbelly had just dropped on her doorstep, and the witch had a good feeling that there would be plenty more of her to go around. After all, she was a dim bulb. She didn’t suspect a thing. She’d eat herself round without having to think about it.
But the witch wasn’t going to reveal her plans just yet. She needed to catch Hansel and Gretel unawares.
“Boy, I’m going to send you to the market to go get me some ingredients,” she said, pulling Hansel aside. She handed him a bit of gold. “Now, you go and fetch the best price you can for a bag of sugar, got it?”
“Why can’t you just make some appear?” Hansel asked. “You’re a witch after all.”
“Because I said so, now get!” She pushed him out the back door.
She knew Hansel would of course not go to the market. He would try and go get help. Well, let him, she thought. He’d never be able to find this place again. Her magic would keep it well hidden. In the meantime, she had a feast to prepare for.
She opened Gretel’s cage and rolled her out. “Alright you, up at the table,” she said, pointing a crooked finger at the table in the kitchen loaded down with sweets.
Gretel whimpered. “What…what’s going to happen?”
“I’m going to eat you, that’s what,” the witch said. “But first, I want you good and stuffed before I put you in the oven. And don’t you dare think about making a sound, or I’ll eat you right now.”
Gretel nodded sadly and waddled over to the table. The witch grabbed the first dish of a plate of burgers and a heaping mound of fries. “Let’s get started,” she said wickedly.
The witch proceeded to hand-feed everything to Gretel. The poor girl barely got enough time to chew before the witch crammed more into her mouth. Before long, she had finished at least a dozen burgers, and the witch proceeded to plug her mouth with fries. “That’s right, piggie, eat up,” the witch cackled.
Tears started to form in Gretel’s eyes. This was technically her last meal, and oh, did it taste so good, but knowing what awaited her at the end made her wish she had never found this house in the first place.
Before long, the starch of the potatoes was starting to fill her belly, and she could feel the tightness building within. The witch kept stuffing her with more food. “I’m full!” she whined. “Please stop.”
The witch took a handful of her belly and squeezed. Gretel groaned. “Not nearly full enough yet!” the witch snapped. “You keep eating.”
Eventually, the witch moved on to all the sweets. She proceeded to fill Gretel’s stomach with a plate of brownies, a couple dozen cupcakes, and an entire cake. By the end of all that, Gretel was huffing and puffing, all the food packed into her stomach squeezing her insides. “No more,” Gretel cried, trying desperately to rub her taut middle, but finding her hands could not reach all the space they needed.
The witch poked and prodded her stomach, enjoying the squish of each pinch. “Oh, yes, my little porker. You’re stuffed to the brim,” she said, digging a finger deep in Gretel’s belly button. “I don’t think I could fit another bite in there. You know what that means? Time for the roasting pan.”
Gretel began to sob again, but the witch would hear none of it as she levitated Gretel into a roasting pan. She let Gretel get one last weigh in before being baked. “467,” the witch said. “Yum, yum, you are going to be a fat, juicy, and tasty morsel.”
She proceeded to baste Gretel in an oil, chop up some vegetables around her, stuffed an apple in her mouth, and coated a little bit of stuffing around her, putting a fat spoonful in her bowl-like belly button.
“Mm, mm, I can’t wait to eat you,” the witch said. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a good, fat, roasted girl like yourself. In you go.”
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