Giving yourself a bottomless appetite, you go searching through your kitchen until you find what you were looking for: the triple-layer fudge cakes that your mom bought your sister for her upcoming birthday. Lining the 18 delicious sweet towers up on the counter before you, you lick your lips before digging in with your hands, cramming handfuls and handfuls of delicious, sweet cake and frosting down your mighty gullet.
You demolish four of them with incredible speed, but are slowed down on the fifth by an ominous creaking noise, which lasts for a few seconds before your chair snaps beneath you and you're left at the foot of the table, your sweets barely beyond the grasp of your piggy arms. Wanting to try something that your mighty, three-fourths-ton sister had done once before, you heave your gigantic belly into the air, hover it over the edge of the table, put about 20 extra pounds on it for good measure, and drop it.
It works like a charm. Your tummy smacks into place as the two table legs nearest you give out, sliding the remaining cakes toward you.
Your chocolate-covered body is surrounded by a chocolate mountain range as the cakes splatter on and around you and it takes an hour to lick yourself clean and get every last morsel around you.
To your horror, you can't stand. Rapidly expanding your ass and shrinking it repeatedly until you bounce to your feet, you struggle up the stairs to yur college-bound sister's industrial scale and manage to read the shining 800.
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