Chapter 4 - panic

Andrew looked like he was about to cry. He had shoveled food indiscriminately into his mouth in a feeding frenzy. Looking over the list now, he realized that he had no idea what anything had been called, let alone how to rate each of them on some kind of scale. AND it was a competition with Jeff, the office jerk??

Andrew was panicking. Jeff had been trying to sleep with their boss for weeks. Andrew had just started making a (hopefully) good impression. He couldn't let Jeff out perform him, but how the heck was he gonna complete this assignment??

"God, I'm such an idiot!!" he lamented, smacking himself on the forehead. "Who devours an entire box of unexpected desserts without checking who they're from??? I could be dead from Anthrax or something!! And now I'm gonna fail this task cause I let me stomach get the better of me!!"

Andrew knew what he had to do. He hefted his over-full belly down the hall to the bathroom as fast as possible and began to shower and dress. He still had the checklist. All he had to do was find that bakery and order another one of each of the items on the list, then try them (SLOWLY this time) and write up his report and strategy.

In the shower, his belly was so tender, and the thought of eating any more food completely nauseated him after his huge breakfast and a super-sized box of desserts, but it was his own stupid fault.

He rubbed soap all over his wet, rubbery body, and, because his belly was the biggest it had ever been in his life, he began to explore it, and also the rest of his body. Usually he avoided this type of thing, because it brought him so much shame and embarrassment, but today he decided to face facts and assess the damage.

"Wow..." he said out loud. He reached around to feel his butt, and realized that it was completely devoid of muscle tone. No rock-hard glutes here. It was just a soft, doughy mass. Kind of dimply and shapeless, from what he could tell. When had that happened??

His legs were thick, with still some traces of quadricep tone, but mostly just flabby. They rubbed together at the top of his legs. When had that started happening? His arms were no better....they lacked all tone and spread against his sides like a pair of thick ham hocks.

Andrew felt revolted, nauseated. He had been an idiot to think that Melissa had ever had feelings for him. He felt like crying out of frustration.

If he had stopped to think about it for one instant, he would have realized something strange: why had the note been laid so carefully at the bottom of the box, where someone had to consume a majority of the treats to even see it...?

Andrew pulled his loosest outfit on (which was becoming rapidly tighter) and headed for the car, checklist in hand, realizing that his gym plans would have to again be postponed indefinitely.




...Meanwhile...



Across town, Jeff was packing up his belongings in boxes of things to sell (unwillingly) and things to keep. It had killed him to cancel his gym membership, and his muscles were sore with disuse.

He had listed his car and motorcycle on Craigslist mournfully, and found an apartment on the more "modest" side of town, and was planning on moving in ASAP. He was in a bad mood because of all the cash he had had to shell out to break the lease, and was even more angry now, seeing all the vestiges of his former life about to be sold off.

As he began to pack boxes into his car, he saw a delivery boy in a red shirt and red cap walking up the sidewalk toward him. "Excuse me, sir.....Mr Jeff...?"

Jeff's mood lightened. Maybe a package was just the thing to brighten his bad day.