Chapter 16

When Emily’s weight failed to come down, everyone, including the medical profressionals, began to look confused. Instead, her weight was creeping ever upward, her fat stomach bloating and stretching into an even more extreme shape.

This was Emily’s resistance.

Even as they scorned her and restricted her diet further, she continued to get ever fatter in defiance of them. She took pleasure in tying her loose t-shirt in a knot above her waist, smirking at the looks of horror she caused whenever her family saw her looking so fleshy and repulsively overfed.

Then, one morning, everyone stopped caring entirely. Time was against them. The war was being lost. They had to move now; get out of the city.

Emily refused.

They tried everything: threats, emotional blackmail, false promises; all in the hope of getting her to comply with them and leave. But Emily stood her ground, until, at about half two that following afternoon, panic had ensured that even the last of the security crew had left to join Emily’s uncle and his government in whatever secret bunker they had prepared for them.

Emily sucked in the free air and threw her fat body onto the couch, not in the slightest bit worried that she would break it.

“Congratulations,” sounded the deep, authoritative voice that Emily had longed to hear for so many weeks. “You played your part so well, Piggy.”

Emily, who had been dozing, woke with a start in that evening light, and smiled broadly. There was Marz, dressed in the uniform of the United States army. He looked so strong, capable and rugged. Yet his delicate fingertips simply traced the soft, fresh and fleshy fat that had further transformed Emily’s appearance since he had last seen her.

“I’m so proud,” Marz whispered to her, hearing Emily moan with pleasure from the touch; the update to her brain chip suddenly back up and actively running.

“You came back for me!” Emily replied; her heart bursting with joy.

“Of course I did, Piggy,” Marz smiled. “You’ve still got a very important part to play in all this. And I think you’re going to like it. We’re getting married.”

“Married?” Emily asked in surprise. “But F80s can’t…”

“They can now,” Marz corrected her. “We’re creating our own government, our own president and laws. The White House is ours. And…” Marz smiled wickedly, “...I believe that you will help to make our government more credible. I’m not sure whether there could possibly be a better match for a high-up official, like myself, than a member of the ex-president’s family. It speaks volumes in the public eye. It will help them to accept us.”

“You and me? Together? No more hiding it?” Emily asked in disbelief.

“No more hiding anything,” Marz nodded, tapping her blubbery stomach fat proudly. “Onwards and outwards,” he teased. “A fat, obedient and devoted girl from a good family. You’ll do very nicely,” he smiled victoriously, unable to resist stroking her large double chin as she smiled back with admiration at him.

Emily didn’t need to think. She nodded frantically and beamed with happiness. After all the generations of politicians in her family, who would have ever guessed that she would be the last one left in the White House? The United States once more.