Chapter 3

3.

An alarm blared in Rodrigo’s penthouse bedroom. He surfaced from a food induced sleep, belching and breaking wind in quick succession. Rodrigo frowned, feeling the puffiness beneath his chin bunch up as he looked around his disheveled bedroom. Takeout wrappers from Taco Bell, McDonalds and KFC were strewn across the floor. A camera on a tripod aimed toward Rodrigo’s desk, though there hadn’t been any work done there lately. Rodrigo stared down at his middle. A persistent roundness had started to claim his lower abdomen. He frowned harder and tried to flex it flat, and while some of the puffiness got in line, enough stuck out to bead cold sweat along his neck. Rodrigo bunched a fist, pouding it into the blankets.

“This has gone far enough.”

Rodrigo was a full month into Kumar’s little revenge scheme. Days like this had become the norm. It was rare Rodrigo wasn’t waking up from a food coma, or wasn’t spending the day stuffing his face. Kumar had pressed his leverage to the extreme. He monitored Rodrigo’s credit cards, buying him all sorts of fattening, calorie-dense fare, as well as making sure there were no charges to gyms or weight loss clubs. Everyday Rodrigo ate past comfort. His stomach stuck out, distended and full, around the clock. He hated to admit it, but Kumar’s effort towards this game of theirs had only grown more obsessive, more intense as time went on.

***

“Enjoy your breakfast?” Kumar snickered one day a couple weeks ago. Rodrigo glared. It was bad enough being made to ‘perform’ for the person Rodrigo had career lapped ages ago, it was worse that such a pathetic physical specimen was the one holding this much power. Kumar was the picture of corporate sloth. Wide and wobbly, you couldn’t grab an inch of muscle on the office whale. And if anything, Kumar had only been eating more since this started. He had always been thick with fat with a prominent belly, but it really felt like he was indulging with a purpose.

“He’s already fat,” Rodrigo thought, remembering the terms of their deal, “another few pounds wont matter to him. He wants me as porked up and disgusting as possible, bastard.”

Rodrigo felt gas building in his middle and looked down, frowning. He knew his stomach was clearly visible through his shirt after the double grand slam breakfast Kumar had forced him to wake up early for. It had taken nearly an hour of gorging, and by the end Rodrigo felt he was sweating grease, but every bite had found its way to his stomach. Rodrigo folded his arms and tried to look as intimidating as possible.

“Fine,” he said, trying to mask his discomfort as he changed subjects, “you finish the build yet?”

Kumar pursed his lips, doing a poor job of hiding his own glee.

“Mmm, sorry boss. You never got me the approved copy, remember?”

Rod’s eyes jolted wide. Kumar was right. Rodrigo had fallen asleep after a double helping of bacon mac and cheese last night. He had completely spaced, and this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened in the last weeks.

“Shit, sorry. I’ll get that over asap.”

“It’s fine,” Kumar said, sounding genuine, “you’ve… been busy, after all.” He nodded toward Rodrigo’s office. “Shall we?”

Rodrigo held back a groan and led the eyebrow-wiggling fatty to his office. Door shut, blinds pulled, Kumar drew out a measuring tape as Rodrigo slid a scale from under his desk.

“You really are a good eater,” Kumar said, pulling the tape around Rodrigo’s distended middle, “I think you were meant to be a fatty.” He slapped his prominent gut and chuckled. “It’s not so bad, you know.”

Rodrigo grunted. He stepped on the scale, which, after flashing blue, went blank. Another ‘feature’ of Kumar’s program. After a few seconds Kumar fastened the tape and jotted down the number.

“Wow, your capacity is exploding. Heh, and based on these numbers the rest of you is going to follow suit. Anyone pointed out this little slide yet?”

Rodrigo went to put Kumar down when he remembered something. It had only been a couple weeks of this, and other than being caught with a full mouth there hadn’t been any noticeable damage to his reputation, at least that he was aware of. Jess though… Rodrigo had to admit his boss had been acting strangely, watching him in a new way he hadn’t been able to figure out.

“No!” Rod snapped, “and are we done here?”

Kumar flicked through an app on his phone that was hooked up to the scale. The bespeckled IT mainstay smiled.

“Yep, got it all right here. Bet you wished you knew the numbers, huh?”

Rodrigo rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be updated month to month. I’ll see you at lunch.”

***

Two weeks later, and nothing Rodrigo had done held off the wave of calories he was enduring. Extra walks, extra water, there was surprisingly little he had researched that could negate calories once they were ingested. Each meal was a calculated attempt to get Rodrigo to eat more than the day before, and the results were starting to show. Eating like a pig had gone from an uncomfortable experience, to something Rodrigo routinely did multiple times a day. All this overeating was fast becoming a habit, one he was mortified to watch form in real time. The carb loaded, fried and sweet faire he prided himself on loathing had become something to look forward to. It was also becoming an item of workplace gossip.

Eating like food was going out of style had made a fool of Rodrigo multiple times in the last month. He wasn’t used to the constant flatulence and lethargy that came with this new diet of his. It was becoming commonplace for at least one burp to escape per meeting, and people were beginning to notice. Little stares at his sides when they should be entranced by his smile. Looks of bewilderment toward a bloated stomach or tightened shirt. Rodrigo knew they were talking, knew they thought he was losing his edge.

“And it’s true,” Rodrigo muttered to himself, grabbing at his phone. There was an alert from DoorDash that an order was on the way, a McDonalds breakfast of three sausage egg and cheese sandwiches, four apple pies and an extra cream, extra sugar coffee.

“To a future fatty,” the note from Kumar read, making Rodrigo hate the man even more. It took a lot not to fall into despair with this nightmare spiraling around him. Luckily, Rodrigo was a man of action. He hadn’t gotten this far in life for no reason. A second alert sounded on his phone, one he had actually been waiting for. An email titled, ‘Initial reportings: Kumar Chadha”. All thought of surplus calories stopped. If this was what Rod hoped it would be, this little month long binge of his would be soon put in the rearview. Hand trembling, he opened the message. The private investigator went over their methods, from physical tracking to ISP monitoring. They all ended up with the same sentiment.

“Rod, this guy’s clean. He goes to work, goes to eat, and plays video games until he falls asleep at midnight. Bills always paid on time, does his taxes early. Worst thing he’s into is some kinky ass BDSM porn.”

“Shit,” Rodrigo muttered. He would need to dig deeper. If Kumar was capable of turning him into a pig, there had to be other deviances in his life. There had to be, otherwise…

Rodrigo slapped himself. For a brief moment he pictured himself at a weight of 276, or worse. It was… unconscionable. It would not happen. Kumar Chadha would pay, if it was the last thing Rodrigo Tortella ever did.

A knock rang from the door, and after turning on the desk camera Rodrigo began shoving McDonalds down his throat. By this point, he could eat for a long time without getting full, and as he munched began to wonder other ways to get back at his tormentor. Before he knew it, Rodrigo reached for an apple pie that wasn’t there. He belched, surprised the meal was already gone. Rodrigo brushed himself off, got his suitcase, and opened the door to leave when he saw a stranger about to ring the bell.

“Order for R. Tortella? I have a note.”

Rodrigo looked at the grease stained bags of Wendy’s and glowered. He snatched the note and groaned, not caring how weirded out the delivery guy looked.

“Didn’t think I’d have you go hungry would I? You’re a growing boy, a second breakfast can't hurt. And yes, record this one as well. -K”

Rodrigo snatched the bags and slammed the door as the driver scurried away. Another two breakfast sandwiches, and three orders of hash browns stared up at him. His stomach already felt puffy and round. Worse, he actually kind of wanted to keep eating. For the first time, Rodrigo was more than a little annoyed. Serious damage was being done here. Rod ignored how absurd this downward spiral was and dug in, looking through his contacts on the side. He needed dirt on this guy, any dirt, and then this all would stop.