Month After Month

Chapter 1 - Month after month

"My roommate begged for help with bulking in an attempt to build more muscle. I offered the only help I could by giving him free reign to every meal I cooked. Being from a decent sized family, cooking large meals became second nature and upon moving out the tendency stuck with me. The end result of my kitchen time would always be met with loads of leftovers that I couldn't finish alone. It was the absolute worst having to toss food out knowing I would never eat it all. Such a waste it was until my roommate came around. After he gladly accepted the "help", I started noticing that day after day he would spend most of his time gorging himself, while those countless hours at the gym seemed to shorten. His late night entries dissipated but only to be replaced by a hungry appetite impatiently waiting for me to arrive with a feast. Week after week...his once fitting apparel became obsolete, his shirts, tanks, and shorts were rendered tight and painfully strained. It wasn't long before his entire wardrobe was filled with useless garments. He would tug and pull on shirts in a ill-fated attempt to make his clothes fit before being forced to purchase something else. I thought that maybe he would realize how much he had let himself go, but to my surprise, he would still boast about how he would become the biggest brute in the world. Month after month he gradually morphed into a complete contrast of the Herculian man he once was, constantly having food by his side where ever he was. His once muscle packed arms grew even larger with fat encasing them. His small roidlike gut swelled out into a flabbier yet filled version of itself, now covering a section of his upper thighs. His meaty pecs became stuffed leather bags with perfectly placed stretch marks and engorged button-like nipples. His gym became our apartment and cardio was practically nonexistent in his mind from what I could see. And yet he still remained steadfast in believing that he would be the biggest bodybuilder anyone has seen. How ironic it was to hear such false sentiments followed by a loud belch and a ritual of belly rubs. And the only things I catch him lifting these days are dumbbells and tubs of fried chicken."