chapter 4 of 5 — dusty

Over the next 6 months, routines had changed again. Dusty woke up in the afternoon, eat a salad bowl of cereal, ovened his frozen foods, and brought his snacks and soda drinks (which he now demanded from his father) to the couch. He would sit there for hours, gaming online and gorging on fattening vegan food all day. Ordering vegan cheesy pizza for delivery became a daily ritual thanks to his dad's credit card.

Since Dusty stopped caring about his appearance when his mother died, he wasn't concerned with his growing physique. In fact, he avoided looking at mirrors so that he didn't have to think about it. His facial hair became a bit unruly, and Dusty didn't bother with showers so often anymore. He wore his clothes to bed, and didn't change them the next day. His T-shirt armpits became damp and reeked with bad odour, but Dusty didn't care.

Since the death of his wife, Dad's personality seemed to have changed with regards to Dusty. Instead of being the firm and respected father, he's now weakened to nearly all of Dusty's demands, and enabling Dusty to become a spoiled brat of a son. Dad realised that he'd become a pathetic slave to his son, but his son had convinced him that he was miserable since mother's death, and Dad just wanted his son to be happy.

Dusty: 'Are you finally home Dad? I'm hungry!'

It'd been some months since Dusty left the house for dinner, or left the house at all. He was so addicted to his online gaming that Dad had to bring takeaway food right to the couch each day. Dad walked in with his 3 bags of food--one for himself--and looked at his son. Dusty had food crumbs and spilled sauces smeared into his white T-shirt. His once trim torso was now inflated with man-boobs and a rotund but slightly sagging belly. You could see his erect nipples and belly-button cavity through the shirt. His arms were wide, his fingers were plump, his thighs were chunky and his feet were chubby. There were empty junk food wrappers all over himself, the couch and the floor. Dad couldn't believe his son had become a 270lb slob in 16 months, but this was reality.

Dusty: 'Dad... This is a really important mission in the game...' (Dusty's eyes fixated on the screen)
Dad: 'Okay, but you just said you were hungry, so...'
Dusty: 'I'm starving... I need you to feed me...'

What?! No, there's no way that Dad was going to stoop so low for his son.

Dad: 'No! Dusty, I'm not feeding you!'
Dusty: 'DAD! This is IMPORTANT! I'm online and this mission is in REAL-TIME!'
Dad: 'NO! Dusty, you're taking this WAY too far!'

Dad snatched the controller from Dusty's fat hands, and his son was angered immediately. Dusty stood up off the couch and glared at his father. His growth spurt had stopped at 6'3", allowing him to look down upon his father and intimidate Dad with his size.

Dusty: 'GIVE... IT... BACK!!!'
Dad: '*wimpers slightly*'
Dusty: 'I... WANT... IT... NOW!!!'
Dad: 'Fine, I'm sorry.'

Dad returned the controller and Dusty plonked back on the couch.

Dusty: 'Look what you made me do!!! I nearly failed the mission!'
Dad: '...'
Dusty: & apos;I'm still starving, feed me'
Dad: 'Dusty...'
Dusty: &a pos;FEED ME!'

Dad sighed, but conceded. If it makes his son happy, well... He started spoon-feeding his son, who opened his mouth every time he wanted another mouthful. Dad had to gaze at his son's face continuously instead of the TV just to keep up with exactly when his mouth opened. It wasn't until the three bags were empty when Dad realised that he fed Dusty his own dinner as well, so Dad went without dinner that night.