chapter 3

My dad bought me a car! Sure it was an old crap where I couldn't fit into the seat, my posterior overflowing it completely and when I sat down the left side of the car sunk so low I was worried it would touch the ground. Despite clearly being customized for my short stature, it didn't quite reflect the size of my midsection. My gut was pressing against the steering wheel heavily, making it damn difficult to turn. All in all, it was probably more dangerous than my eating habits, but it worked... for a while.

Having a car has given me the experience of spending an hour of driving into the opposite corner of the town. The first hour, the way there, I didn't mind at all. At the end of it there awaited as the Holy Grail the only all-you-can-eat buffet in our town. And so, obviously, every day after school I made the trip there. I don't think the owner liked me very much.
I hated the way back home. I was stuffed to the brim and if the journey there was dangerous, the way back was insanity. With my bloated stomach in the way, I could barely turn. Somehow I survived every time.

I thoroughly enjoyed Thanksgiving as well. Mom prepared the biggest turkey I've ever seen. Well, until the last years at least. I was pushing for the 400 at the time and this feast was what pushed me over.
Lady Luck seemed to smile at me. Because of work my mom had to leave right after Thanksgiving for a better part of the month, returning only day before Christmas day.
Dad wasn't much of a cook, but he had a local pizzeria on a quick dial. His wallet certainly must have felt a lot lighter after this month.

When mom return home, I was lying on the couch, surrounded by empty pizza boxes, spilling out of my clothes, too stuffed to move and about another twenty pounds heavier than I was when she left.
That year's Christmas dinner was the first time I added second chair underneath my vast bottom. First of all it wasn't very comfortable to spill in every possible direction and who wishes to listen to the sound of groaning wood all the time? Certainly not this Tiny gal...
It fascinated me how far my abdomen stretched these days. Round and flabby as ever it reached all the way to my knees and then over hanged them by a couple more inches.

My mom seemed to give up upon me and let me eat whatever I wanted. And so I did. Every day I found a new inch of my body where I haven't seen it before, a new pound of quivering flesh for me to admire. This paradise didn't last for much longer though.

The New Year started awfully. Mom started with her eating restrictions again. Another horror awaited me when I got to my car to drive to the buffet. I've grown far too fat to drive! The lower half of the steering wheel was now completely lost in the flabby ocean of my tummy and there was no way I could drive.

Mother dearest then made a horrible, horrible mistake. She tried to make us eat some vegan 'healthy' definitely-not-food. Even the thought about it makes me uneasy. But dad had enough of it. There was a fight and the good guys won... Probably. Anyway for me it meant no more restrictions.

Since that moment forward no one tried to put me on any sort of a diet, under a simple condition that I would go for regular medical checkups. I may have gained a couple of pounds since. Whew, I can't believe that this was almost two years ago! And look at me now!
You know I'm actually getting pretty famous. Why did I say that this is a special day? Well, as I was just saying, I'm getting pretty famous now. Tiny Little, Eater. Apparently I even hold some sort of records... Am I the only one who knows how to enjoy a good meal or what? I'm getting a bit side tracked again... You remember that buffet I was talking about before? They challenged me! Promised a shitload of money too. Whether I can eat everything they have... Like there is even a sliver of doubt. I could have done it month ago but they wouldn't let me inside. They said something about being too big for the door? Idiots! They can't even make doors properly these days...
Maybe I'm a bit larger than your regular person, but who cares? I know I'm spilling over the sides of this couch, but could you believe they actually call it a three-seater? What a scam! Some people really have no shame. Maybe I can't go through normal sized door frames anymore, so what? I'm still too tiny. I'm surely barely 500 pounds. Ok, maybe more, but 600 tops. Where's the freaking scale? It would probably be easier to find it without this flabby gut in my way. I can barely see the floor... Oh, there it is. I weigh exactly... CRACK!