chapter 2 - the transport of livestock

Dazed and confused, Sam didn’t feel ready to open his eyes yet. He must be lying down, but the hard surface below him was far from his comfortable bed or couch at home. Had he fainted while out somewhere? But that didn’t make sense either. Sam felt the cold of metal that was textured, dipping up and down at intervals, and there was a faint, cool breeze making him even colder. He also noticed that where the metal stuck upwards, it was pulsing as it was digging into him, like his fat blob of a body was being bounced slightly. Was he on a moving vehicle?

Sam took a deep breath and opened his eyes. The light in the back of the truck was very dim, with only slivers of light daring to peek through gaps between slats that made up the walls. There was a distinct smell of hay, like this truck was normally used to transport livestock. But surrounding him was not livestock, but 5 other men around the same age as Sam. They were all looking at him expectantly.

“There he is,” one of them whispered. He was large, like Sam, but a lot of his bulk seemed to be offset by being taller

“I told you he wasn’t dead, you idiot,” hissed another, slapping the mountain of a guy next to him on his flabby arm, sending a visible ripple through his fat. He seemed perhaps a little bit younger, but was also not small in stature. Rather than having a ball of a gut though, his body was covered in soft, wobbly rolls that bounced with the movement of the truck.

They all appeared to be wearing stretchy, but tight, black leggings. Sam sat up in alarm and looked down. He watched his fat middle spill over what must be the same leggings; it was a little hard to see over his huge belly. The waistband below it must be making it stick out more…but who was he kidding? How had he let himself become such a chunky butterball? And now he had strangers watching him blob up and down, in all his fatty glory.

“Where the hell am I?!” Sam yelled, still confused but starting to be gripped by fear as the reality of the situation was settling in his mind. The other men rushed to hush him, one of them pointing to where the cabin of the truck would be. This guy appeared somewhat tall and lanky, if it weren’t for a disproportionately large stomach protruding out in front of him.

“What the hell is all this?” whispered Sam.

“No idea. We wondered if we had been rounded up for an intervention, or being sent to fat camp or something,” the rolly guy said quietly, “cause, I mean, we’re all a bit…”

Right at that moment, the truck went over a bump, and this caused all of their flab to wobbly aggressively. They all blushed with embarrassment, but it did break some of the tension. The large guy grabbed and shook his massive gut.

“When we get out of here, I really need to do something about this,” he pondered, watching it wobble.

Sam certainly related to that feeling, but if he was real with himself he’d been saying that kind of thing for years. He just couldn’t help being such a hopeless pig sometimes and he was having to confront how much of a porker he had become, all of his soft fat on display now.

The truck seemed to be stopping, causing the fat men to panic a little all over again. They all seemed to hold their breath and pointlessly suck in their stomachs as they heard barking shouts. Was that the woman Sam had literally run into earlier? They all squinted as the back of the truck opened and light flooded in to blind them.