David stopped and narrowed his eyes. "I know how to open a box, Elizabeth," he sneered sarcastically.
As her husband pointedly ignored her advice, prolonging his struggle, Elizabeth took the opportunity to look around the bridge on the men's ship. Her eyes passed enviously over the state-of-the-art access panels and computer systems - a generation more advanced than those on her own. Then she was distracted by a male crew member, sculling on his back through the air and tossing chocolates into his mouth. He too, Elizabeth noted, had a noticeable belly bulging up from his waist. She looked beneath him, and found the first mate, feet on the desk, snacking from a bag of protein chips, tied to his chair with a velcro sling that squeezed yet another puffy looking middle.
It's the gravity, Elizabeth realized suddenly. With no way of exercising, they're all putting on weight!
A gasp of triumph drew her attention back to her husband just as the lid popped off his container. Succulent looking brownie bites began to float upwards. To her astonishment, rather than reach for a few David stretched open his mouth like a snake and leaned down, cupping his hands to hoard the brownie bites together, so they rose up into his gaping mouth at once.
"Ommfff Nommm grrkk" He grunted, cheeks bulging ridiculously.
Elizabeth smiled patiently, then she nodded to the side of her husband's head.
"Missed one," she said.
Greedy eyes flicked out to the right, narrowing as they spied escaping brownie. David reached up, rising a short way out of his seat and grabbed it, showing it into his already full mouth. His top rose up again, revealing more of his budding paunch.
Just like being back home, Elizabeth thought, sipping her bland coffee with a sigh. No snack escapes with its life.
"Any problems to report dear?" she asked, once her husband had almost finished chewing.
"Gruurp- nothing major," David replied, wiping his fingers on a napkin. "Apart from those damn laundry bots." (Elizabeth had to fight not to snort with laughter.) "We are having an issue with the disintegrators though," David said.
Elizabeth's face registering genuine concern. "Oh dear. Are you close to getting it fixed? I could call in Liesel to have a look if it'll..."
David waved his hand dismissively. "No point," he said, "we're just jettisoning the empty crates and waste containers until we make planetfall."
Elizabeth gaped at him. "David! You can't just jettison all that junk into space. It's.. it's pollution. Who knows what kind of creatures are out there."
Too late, Elizabeth realized her mistake. Her husband was drawing his brows together irritably. "Don't be ridiculous Elizabeth," he said, slowly and patronizingly, ominously using her full name. "There's nothing out there except... except space. No point fixing something unnecessarily when our time could be better spent on other things."
Like stuffing your face? Elizabeth wondered, eying her husband's paunch, which looked even rounder after his container full of brownies.
"And remember," David went on, leaning forward, and wincing a little at the pressure this put on his full stomach. "I'm leading this mission. You don't give me instructions, okay? Just remember who's in -uurp- charge here."
"Of course, dear," Elizabeth said, chiding herself for a momentary lapse in her control. Like all the men of the Earth Colonization Front, David had had his ego fed from a young age until it had reached colossal proportions. Any criticism was met with immediate petulance and dismissal - especially if it came from a woman. "I'm just trying to help," Elizabeth finished, trying to sound meek.
That's more like it, David thought. For the first time on the call, he looked at his wife. She was a hot woman, that was for sure. lean and elegant and toned... very toned, in fact. David realized, looking more closely at his wife's arms, emerging from her sleeveless Women's Interstellar Support top. They looked more toned than ever. She's clearly been keeping up her workouts, he thought approvingly. David leaned back. Overall, he was incredibly happy with his marriage. Elizabeth just had a tendency to get ahead of herself at times.
And it's my job to bring her back down to earth, so to speak.
"You can help," he said to this end, "by focusing on the mission. A mission I'm leading." With a sigh, he leaned back, his top riding up to reveal most of his belly. "Just think, Lizzie, I'm going to be the founder of a colony, the first man on a new world."
If you can fit into your space suit, Elizabeth thought. A funny image popped into her head, of her husband standing proudly alongside the Earth Colonization Front flag, a huge belly sticking out from his waist.
She was wondering how she could tactfully suggest that he eat a bit less without offending his ego when...
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
