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Rated: E · Interactive · Erotica · #1856959
a quality-controlled interactive about life in a pudgy prep school
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Chapter #3

An Average Saturday Night for Spades

    by: ikearct
"Where the hell are my hot wings?" Was essentially Allison Spade's mantra for the night- increasingly more commonly spoken (and slurred) as the night continued on, and more drinks found their way into the fat woman's hands. Finally, after a particularly rigorous rocking out on the dance floor, the portly Buttercombe nurse retired to the bar of the rather empty old club, sitting next to one of her oldest friends, whom she frequented the bars with on the weekends (and sometimes, if work was particularly rough that week, during the weekdays!)- Rachel. "I tell ya, Rach, this place is deaaaaaaad." The "dead" being drawn out long and loudly, which drew the attention of the bartender, who sensed a repetition of the woman's regular order for the night- and he wasn't wrong. "Yo, barkeep, grab me some more wings, right?"

As the barkeep walked off to bark the order at the cook in the back, Rachel sipped from her drink, eying her now slightly-more-than-tipsy-but-not-quite-drunk-yet friend, who was currently cradling a rather sugary martini in between her chubby fingers. "Yeah, it's kinda boring here tonight, huh? I guess we could check someplace else out... There's that other club out-" But before Rachel could finish, Allison cut her off rudely (Allison wasn't usually so rude, just when she had been drinking... Which was pretty much whenever Rachel saw her).

"Naaah. I don't get my discount there, remember? But once I get my HOT WINGS-" Yelled, of course, in a blatant attempt to make them somehow be cooked faster "-We can probably bounce back to my place and watch a movie or somethin'..." Allison let the statement drift off pointlessly, before chugging down the rest of her martini, which tasted distinctly of bubblegum. "I even have some of those lime-margarita things you like!" With Allison, a statement like that was the closest to being not entirely self centered as it got. However, unlike Allison, Rachel couldn't afford to get plastered on the weekends- her job didn't allow it.

"That does sound fun, and thank you for offering, but no, I've got plenty of paperwork to go over, and I can't do so with a hangover. But I'll definitely drive you home, at least... I'm assuming you forgot that I drove you here?" Rachel asked, one eyebrow perked up inquisitively.

"No, I just forgot you're a weakling when it comes to yer drinkin'. Come on, let's dance some more!" Allison said, almost forgetting about the hot wings she had just ordered... Almost.


-----

"Buuuuu-rap!" The loud belch echoed throughout Ally's empty employee cabin, as she downed the last of the canned, sugary alcoholic beverage, lofting the empty aluminum can across the room towards the recycling can- and missing by several feet. However, in her current drunken state, Ally could hardly be bothered with picking up anything besides the plethora of food and drinks before her as she lounged on the couch, watching Cops reruns. Her usual idea of fun once she was alone was to put out an impressive spread of food and a beverage of choice, veg out on the couch, and indulge herself. And one doesn't end up at a weight like hers from an active lifestyle, her naturally slightly tanned belly pouring out from underneath her ill-fitting large tank top, slightly stained with signs of the spicy spread Ally was currently indulging in. Beneath her bulging belly, which was currently bloated with all manner of sugary alcoholic drinks and spicy foods, two hefty thighs squished together, the skin exposed for the world due to Ally's lack of pants, opting to wear only panties while she binged. And of course, her chest was nothing to smirk at, two swollen orbs of shaking mass that tended to make most men stare for more than a few seconds. Of course, once they realized how Ally tended to act... Well, most guys aren't exactly keen to dating a girl who literally thinks the world should revolve around her.

"I shuld probly stop drinkin' these... Eh." Ally said half-heartedly, before popping the top on yet another almost room-temperature lime beverage. "It's a Saturday, afta all..." Guzzling almost half the can in one go, Ally plopped the can back down on the table with one hand while grabbing a handful of spicy party mix with the other, dropping the entire handful into her awaiting mouth with one swift motion.
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