Chapter 1 - simple truths

There is a fundamental misunderstanding between the average person and the word "More".

And that's not their fault.

The world is an ever infinite venue of ideals and understandings, representative of the times and cultures and the people who inhabit such things. That the idea "More" has been misrepresented is no one's fault.

But where one has that understanding, it is an important duty to sit back, educate, and let good information correct those fundamental miscommunications.

And I'm here to tell you. That as a Feedee, you need to re-evaluate that word.

When I say it, what springs to mind?

Of course, for those of our particular. . .let's call it a culture, there's the obvious. Swelling waistlines, and greasy delicious food sliding down that insatiable gullet. Of course you want more. What reasonable person wouldn't? And when you've had your fill, and you've glutted well beyond what you ought to, when you've had your "More", you're satisfied.

And you shouldn't be.

More is the beginning.

Let's take it step by step, shall we?♪

Your favorite buffet, under those golden amber lights. You're familiar with them. Buffets have long since taken it upon themselves to master their craft. They know exactly who their customers are. The poor who need to get the most out of a meal. The frugal, those who simply enjoy getting the most out of their meal. . .and people like you.

Like me.

They know us when they see us. Round of face, and wide of waist. They see us when we struggle into double-wide doors. They hear us when we go up to the counter, and our stomach gurgles loudly. They hear us when we leave too. That mixture of unrepentant gurgles, and heavy footfalls that signal your way to the table nearest the action. Perhaps ignoring, or in some evil and delightful cases, indulging in the bevy of stares and whispers that echo about you.

"They're so fat. . ."

"Should they really be here?"

"Oh, my god they're not actually going to eat all of that are they?"

As if it weren't just more fuel for the fire.
So, you indulge. The plates stack up. Your take on your favorite indulgences of course. Perhaps you're a fan of the simple things. The weighty flavors of fried foods. Heavy, salty, and swimming in grease as they trail down your ever moving gullet. Or, more refined tastes. Waiting on things like steak, or special ordered things off the menu. Perhaps to tell yourself that you're a connosieur and not simply a glutton who lost control of themselves oh so long ago.

And it goes on like that for awhile. 20 minutes, half an hour. An hour. However long it takes to sate your gut. And then you? You're done.

Not me.

Because this is where the fun begins. Licking a plate clean, while the staff comes up and asks if that'll be all. Looking them in the eyes, and calmly, deliberately, fishing a wallet out from some fat fold, pulling out a few spare hundreds, and telling them.

"No."

They're confused. Hell, I understand that you're confused. How could I not be full? But that's the secret. I am.

I am blissfully overly full. Even now I can hear my gut churning and chugging away at the simply unnecessary avalanche of calories that I've forced down my throat without care or reason. But that's the point. That's where the fun begins. As the plates begin to stack higher again, and I have to undo my belt buckle, my jeans. As more food swells my already bloated corpulence to concerning levels. Stretchmarks, red and angry, arriving all across my middle as the glowing symbols of my dominance over my appetite. It's the pain that feeds me. It's the delight of knowing that what I'm doing is wrong. The ache of my throat. The whining of my incessant, pitiful belly, as I force it ever onwards to become yet a more powerful symbol of my own rampant gluttony.

Minutes. Hours. People stare. People flee. The staff can't kick me out. I'm a paying customer. They're worried obviously. Shouldn't they stop me? I'm doing something disasterous to my health. And it's true.

But the point of more.

Is to revel in it.

Eating endlessly. Eternal hunger? That's a misery.

But eternal gluttony? Fullness?

Bliss.

And that's. What more means.
Are we clear? Yes? Good.~

Go practice what you've learned today.