Chapter 3 - part 3

As Devo perused the menu set before him, he began wondering just how much he actually needed or even wanted this. It was the first time he had any serious concerns over his eating. They weren't enough to ring any alarm bells in his brain, but the thought was there nonetheless. He had noticed the decadent restaurant on his slow waddle past the three-mile marker and stopped in without a second thought. He was immediately sat down, given a menu, and delivered some complimentary bread rolls (which he devoured greedily). Now, he gave the meals on the menu a hungry glance over. Thick, juicy steaks. Whole rotisserie chickens. Burgers that would make any dietician faint on sight. He decided to just go with a medium-sized pork chop for his entree. He handed the menu to the waiter and was told his food would be out shortly.

Normally he'd be salivating at the mouth at the thought of that juicy cut of pork, but this time was different. He didn't really want to eat more. Well, he did want to eat something but... It was difficult to explain. The thought of eating anything right now filled both with gleeful anticipation and looming dread. Recently, tinges of pain had come in waves over his stomach. They weren't too bad, but they were enough to make him pause and soothe the monster of a belly. Even now, his hands rubbed circles around his overfed gut. Or at least, the areas he could reach.

Devo finally began to take notice of his growth. Again, he didn't feel the need to take any action, but he was at least cognizant of the fact that his body was indeed different. His moobs were quite pronounced, putting him ahead of some of his female coworkers. They stretched the fabric of his shirt to its absolute maximum, almost making it look painted-on. His arms were now so thick that he couldn't even fully put them down at his side anymore, and lifting them was a massive chore. Devo brought his hands up to his face and felt just how fat it had become. His cheeks were so puffed out that it looked like they were always full of food (which they often were). At this point, even chewing was taking a toll on his stamina. Turning his attention back to his body, Devo felt a little uncomfortable in his seat and tried shuffling about. Each shift of his weight cause the chair to creak ominously, but he ignored the furniture's protests. Even this minute action caused his plump posterior to jiggle relentless. Well, "plump" didn't quite do the behemoth justice. It greedily at up all the space in the chair, even going so far as to ooze over the armrests. Tan flesh poured over the top of his shorts, and some small bubbles of brown skin poked out from the sides as rips appeared in the seams. It was so overfed and massive that Devo was almost as tall sitting down as he was standing up. While he was sure that such a cushy caboose would make for a nice seat on its own, it was certainly not made for such restrictive chairs like this one.

Surprise, surprise, his belly was still his most impressive feature. Who would've guessed that hours upon hours of nonstop eating would make his stomach so big? Not Devo, apparently. While every other part of his body was soft and pillowy, his stomach stood in stark contrast to all of that. It wasn't that it wasn't fat--far from it. It was the fattest part of his body. The problem was that it was stretched out and over-inflated, creating a very soft yet very solid surface. It stuck out a good deal in front of him, making it a bit awkward to move around and not bump into people. Even now, his stomach was such an imposing obstacle that it literally pushed him away from the table. He tried to move his chair closer but was given a stab of pain, a bout of rumbling, and a loud belch for his troubles. It was so heavy and cumbersome, too. Each step felt like a fight against gravity as his gut threatened to send him to the floor with no recourse. He was forced to adopt a comically wide stance just to have the potential to lug around his boulder of a belly. Even now it was a nuisance, spreading apart his blubbery legs to make room for its girth. It obscured his vision, making the part of the table closest to him a huge blindspot. And it was so noisy. Its inner workings were made known to the whole world, and all Devo could do to soothe it was massage what little of the bloated sphere he could reach.

... Maybe he should leave. Not just the restaurant, but the boardwalk as a whole. This was the first time he had ever considered the idea since starting the trek. He wouldn't have to stay away forever. He could just... let his stomach rest and then pick up where he left off. It's not like it was a long drive to get here. Then again, he only had one mile left to go. But if it was anything like the previous miles, it'd go by super slowly. He would spend ages waddling down to the end. And not to mention there'd be eating. So. Much. Eating.

Just before Devo could make any concrete decisions, the pork chop he had ordered was placed down in front of him. He couldn't quite see the meat, but he could smell it, and it smelled divine. He peered over his mountainous stomach, and his heart skipped a beat. He had ordered a modest-sized pork chop, but this cut of meat was definitely anything but modest. It took up the whole dinner plate and then some, and it was super thick to boot. He wanted to call the waiter back, but she had already disappeared, leaving him alone with this monstrous meat. His stomach growled and grumbled a mixture of "EAT IT!" and "Dear God please don't eat this." His brain wanted the latter option, but his body chose the former. Ignoring the whines of his overtaxed gut, Devo reached for the plate, brought it up to his mouth, and took a bite out of the pork chop. He was sure that this meat would taste heavenly if he didn't feel like an overfilled balloon right now. He swallowed the meat and followed that up with another piece, and then another, and then another. He worked his way through the pork chop at a fairly speedy pace, forcing his stomach to expand to accommodate. He swore he could feel himself getting fatter as he ate, largely because he was. Each bite added more and more fat onto his already well-padded body. He gained the beginnings of a third chin. His shirt began tearing, revealing more caramel flesh. His chest grew flabbier and flabbier. His butt and his thighs thickened considerably, creating new holes and tears in his cargo shorts. His belly grew more bloated and even noisier as it tried to contain everything The chair creaked and groaned ominously, and Devo could've sworn he heard some wood snapping. Chew, chew, swallow. Chew, chew, swallow. It felt like there was no end to this meal. Devo let out a small whimper as he just how tight his stomach was getting. Still, he kept picking away at the pork chop. Chew, chew, swallow. Chew, chew, swallow...

After what felt like an eternity, Devo finally finished the enormous entree. A cacophony of noises came from his section of the restaurant. Disconcerting sounds emanated from his stomach. Sounds that didn't even sound human. Devo himself groaned and moaned, with the occasional belch escaping his belly. His clothes continued ripping and tearing, exposing more and more of his bloated form. The fabric wasn't the only thing being destroyed, however. His chair was ill-equipped to deal with such a massive burden. The snapping of wood joined the racket. The armrests flew right off the chair, unable to contain such a fat specimen. Before Devo could enjoy his newfound release, he was sent crashing to the ground as the chair finally gave up the ghost. The sudden shift released a monstrous burp from deep within, followed by noisy complaints from the overfed orb.

It took ten people nearly half an hour of struggling to get Devo to stand up, and another half hour to squeeze him through the door. By this point, his entire body was drenched in sweat. His clothes were in tatters, mere remnants of what they once were. His stomach was so bloated it nearly touched the ground, and the ruckus it was making only picked up steam. He was breathing heavily as his body tried to process that enormous pork chop as well as everything else he had crammed into it on his journey thus far. Once he caught his breath (or at least as much of it as he thought he could), he began his slow, deliberate waddle. He didn't know where he was going, but he was going to get there. And hopefully, there wouldn't be any food to tempt him.

... All-you-can-eat buffets usually don't have food, right?