Stuffed Danny

Chapter 1

Danny woke up after midday. From the street, through the slightly open window, came the steady hum of the city, quite, as is usually the case on the twenty-fifth floor, especially on Sunday.

The warm summer sun was shining brightly outside, but in his bedroom there was semi-darkness, the rays almost did not penetrate through the heavy curtains. Basking in the softness of silk sheets, many pillows and cushions, the owner of the bedroom almost fell asleep, but again, the penetrating roar of someone's alarm woke him up completely. He rolled over heavily on his side, sinking into the soft mattress, slowly sat up, stroked his bloated stomach, winced from the heartburn that had rolled in again, and wandered into the bathroom. After taking a couple of spoons of antacid, which was kept in the medicine cabinet behind the mirror, he, with difficulty throwing his legs over the edge, very carefully, afraid of slipping, lay down in his huge jacuzzi, and only having assumed a lying position turned on the water. Climbing into a bathtub full of water was too risky an undertaking, with his agility. Bubbles appeared in the water before the jacuzzi nozzles started working. Danny groaned and rubbed his belly protruding from the water: “Why did you have to overeat like that again?” he asked himself. “I slept for fifteen hours, and it still doesn’t get any better, my belly is bursting… oh...” he grabbed his belly again. He lay in the jacuzzi for more than an hour, massaged by the elastic streams of water, turning heavily from side to side, passing gas, groaning, grabbing his stomach, and massaging it from time to time.

Finally, the discomfort in his stomach subsided, Danny drained all the water from the jacuzzi and began to climb out, just as slowly and carefully as he climbed in. Throwing on a white terry robe, he went to the kitchen. His round, spherical belly had already stopped aching, it swayed in time with his steps, and wanted to eat again. Danny took sliced ​​sausage, ham, and cheese from the refrigerator, took out a pack of eclairs and curd rings. He made himself sandwiches with all the available slices, armed himself with a glass of wine and a cup of coffee, and, putting everything on a tray, went back to the bedroom. He liked to eat lying in bed, opposite which, on the wall, hung a huge plasma screen. Clicking the remote control, he found some simple TV show and immersed himself in the food. The sandwiches, eclairs, and curd rings melted before his eyes. Breakfast ended quickly, and Danny realised that he was not full yet, and liked to eat to fullness feeling. He reached for the phone and dial a familiar number: Restaurant "Cagliari"—A cheerful female voice responded on the other end.

“Jenny?”, Danny clarified, already knowing by heart the work schedule of all the administrators of the restaurant, located in their elite house. “Good morning, Daniel”, the voice smiled in response, having long recognised Danny from the first words, “What will you order?”

“Jenn, arrange me a good steak, carbonara, creamy mushroom soup, profiteroles and, perhaps, raspberries with cream.” he ordered. “We have a wonderful raspberry dessert”, Jennifer voice responded, still smiling. “Ice cream, delicate butter cream, raspberries, chocolate-coffee cream and whipped cream. Would you like that instead of raspberries with cream?”
“Perhaps”, Danny agreed. “but let's do it faster, I'm really hungry!”
“Of course, it will be done this very minute!”, answered his future mistress, a talented, obliging administrator. Dannyh was a fairly successful middle-aged businessman, with an established business that required his minimal participation, a huge apartment in an elite building, a huge German-made car, a huge account in a German bank, and a huge belly, acquired in recent years.

His poor, hungry youth, the years spent building his business, the sleepless nights spent in the office had taken their toll... Now that his life had become successful, settled and stable, he ate and slept without measure. He drank to a lesser extent and was not at all interested in drugs. His drug was food, seas and mountains of food. Eating well and sleeping softly—this was the new meaning of his, now calm and rich, life.

Once upon a time, he spent many hours in the gym, building and drying out his muscles in order to fit in, to look good, and so on. Now he had become so fat and lazy that he would not have been able to get up to the second floor without an elevator. He no longer had to prove anything to anyone, he did not have to fit in, he could relax and simply enjoy life. All the pleasures he wanted to get. Now, instead of the athletic, fit Danny, the cheerful choleric who could not sit still, a heavy, flabby, lazy phlegmatic person appeared before everyone—Fanny, or rather, first his belly appeared, and then he himself. The fatter he got, the lazier he became, the bigger his belly became, the less he wanted to move, his belly increasingly pulled him to the sofa, the armchair, the bed—where he could sit down, or even better—lie down. And he lay, ate, slept, and his belly grew by leaps and bounds.