Chapter 5

“I’m here to take on the Epic Chow-Down Challenge, a massive, 8 lb plate overflowing with every appetizer on the menu. There’s no time limit, and if I finish it, I will win a tee shirt, a free appetizer every visit for the next year, and, as always, eternal food glory.”

The waitress set down the platter in front of Adam and laid out the rules.

“Okay Adam, there’s no time limit, and you can have anything you want to drink. Ready to go?”

“Let’s do this!”

The signal was given, and Adam started to chow down. The first few bites were easy, always were. The food was so delicious, he couldn’t have stopped even if he had wanted to. That was the secret to getting through the quantity challenges. He finished off the first appetizer in an astounding two minutes….but then the room began to swim. The crowd of cheering faces became a blur; every sound was echoing in his head as if he were underwater. He shook his head, trying to shake the feeling, but it only made it worse. He tried to stand, but his dizziness forced him back into the seat. His stomach was killing him; it felt like he’d eaten a hundred pounds of food. He leaned back with his eyes closed and put his hands on his stomach, but was startled to find it a lot closer than he remembered. He looked down to see a mountain of fat spilling over the sides of the chair and onto his lap. He panicked and tried to stand again, but the immense weight of his belly held him down. There was a fork full of food at his lips. “Eat, Adam. Eat. Eternal food glory,” the voice in his head said softly. The food was forced into his mouth. Fork after fork after fork came. Adam tried to protest, but the food kept coming. “Man versus food! Man versus food!” He heard the crowd cheering as if they were a mile away. He glanced around between bites and realized that he was surrounded by every food challenge he had ever beaten. They were being stuffed down his throat, bite by delicious bite, and there was nothing he could do.

His stomach kept growing, making his clothes tighter and tighter and tighter. The buttons on his shirt flew off in all directions, and his pants began to rip at the seams. ‘What’s happening to me?’ He was crying again, taking down forkful after forkful, his stomach throbbing in agony from all of the food. He begged for it to stop, sobbing pitifully between bites, but the food was relentless.

“Adam?” He looked up to see Sophie glaring at him with pure disgust before walking away, fading to nothing.

“Soph-” He was cut off by another forkful. He chewed violently and swallowed. “Sophie, please! I-” More food was forced down his throat. He heard a crack and the chair beneath him finally gave way, leaving him lying pathetically on the floor, blubber and food becoming nearly indistinguishable from one another….

Adam awoke in a panic, heart pounding, sheets soaked with cold sweat. He glanced at the clock. 3 am. He took a deep breath and lay back on his pillow, still shaking. This wasn’t the first time he’d had that dream, but every time it became more and more vivid…and more terrifying. And this time, Sophie was in it….

God, what a day… He wasn’t sure how he felt about it all. He groaned, ashamed of his behavior with her. Totally confident then totally stupid, kissing her, pulling away. And then the crying….Ugh. Everything after the crying went pretty well. She had changed the subject to his job, his favorite foods. They talked about past relationships. Sophie had some real pieces of work to her name. She spoke of them casually, not like an “angry ex,” something he respected her even more for. She had a history of unfeeling, inattentive guys who had left her high and dry, letting her support the relationship on her own. She was the caretaker, the mother hen. She poured her heart into every relationship without being clingy. Her problem had been neglecting her own needs.

“His needs became mine. I guess I thought mine might become his,” she explained simply.

Sophie was perfect, everything he’d ever wanted in a girl. She was absolutely stunning, funny and intelligent, and, perhaps most importantly, a good cook. She enjoyed bantering with him, she was a great kisser. And she was in to him, a fact he was still trying to wrap his mind around. She deserved someone as incredible as her….What did she see in him? What confused him the most was that rather than being repulsed by his weight, she seemed to enjoy it…but that was crazy. No girl actually WANTED a fat boy. She tolerated it, that was all. It was only a matter of time before she’d be fed up and offer him the ultimatum: lose the weight or lose me. It wouldn’t be the first time…

He rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom to get a glass of water. He downed one glass and filled another then paused and turned on the light. His reflection stared back at him: his dark brown eyes looked haggard, accentuated by the bags forming under them, but that wasn’t what he was concerned with. His eyes travelled south, stopping first at his distinct double chin. It had always been there if he tilted his head the right way, but now it was a permanent fixture. His eyes continued their descent, taking in the soft pads of fat that rested on his chest and stopping finally at his bulging stomach. The white tee shirt he wore fit snuggly; he could see every last ounce of soft, disgusting fat. He prodded it with his finger, lifted it with his hands, watched it bounce and jiggle with every move he made. “You’re really packin’ ‘em on, aren’t you porky?” The voice in his head scoffed. “You think Sophie’s going to be so in to you when she sees you demolish that 8 lb plate? Good luck, fatass.” He sighed and flicked off the light.

********

Sophie snuggled up under her covers, reveling in the warmth radiating through her. ‘Adam Richman,’ she thought with a sigh. She was over the moon. Years of admiration, watching the show, swooning at every terrible pun and self-effacing wise crack. And now he was here. In Georgetown. She had gotten to cook for him and had front-row seats to the next day’s eating challenge. And he’d kissed her! She giggled out loud and rolled over, wide awake, thoughts of the day’s events and those to come overwhelming her desire to sleep. Part of her felt guilty replaying his breakdown, his confessions, his humiliation, but the fetish was having its way tonight, overpowering any maternal instincts she may have had.

She couldn’t wait for tomorrow’s eating challenge. An 8 lb platter of appetizers, greasy, fatty appetizers. The idea of watching him stuff himself was driving her wild. And she would be sitting right there, watching every glorious bite! She fantasized about him tucking away the whole platter and then some with her encouragement, rubbing his swollen belly to make more room, his moans of pleasure as she relieved the pressure…. She exhaled sharply, completely turned on just thinking about it.

Tomorrow was going to be a fantastic day.