Chapter 1 - from small beginnings...

"Just a small town girl, livin' in a lonely world..." Clara sang softly to herself as she stared out the window of the train. Lakes, Forests, and Mountains passed as the train sped down the tracks. She glanced at the papers that were held tightly in her hands. The first was her train ticket, which the conductor checked for at every stop.
Not that there were many stops, however. She had just made the decision to ditch her country living to pursue big lights, and big action in the city. She had grown tired of being one of seven people for miles around at her family's ranch. "The Ranch..." Clara thought about to herself as images of family and feasts danced in her head. That was the only place where dancing occurred, though.

Clara's family was a group of cattle ranchers. While back in the day it might have meant having to control large swathes of land and ensure no animals broke out of their enclosures, now a days it was more cramming as many animals as they could into a small as space as possible to get them as fat as possible. "While most did it out of practice, mama always seemed to do it as a lifestyle choice," She joked to herself at her mother's expense. As large as the ranch was, the Cummings found the manor in which they resided to be the only place they frequented. Thus, the family was larger than most - in more ways then one.

Clara was to be the exception though. She believed she was to be the exception. Snapping out of her reminiscing of past days she looked at the flyer she held in her hand behind the ticket. It was old: the edges were frayed, dirt was smeared across it, and there was even a spot distorted from a spilled drink- Clara's spilled drink. But beyond all that in bold, enlarged neon orange letters was "GRASSO GREENS", with a promising picture of the amalgamation of both suburb and city into one sprawling package. It was here she wanted to find a job. A real one, mind you. She didn't want to just sit at home all day and get fat like the rest of her family had. While the average weight was about 225 lbs for the rest of her family, Clara had fought tooth and nail to maintain her relatively-speaking minuscule weight of 110 lbs that caused her to have the appearance of a rather sharp hourglass. Even then, she didn't really fight tooth and nail, but more step-by-step as she couldn't resist the grand feasts her mom would cook up (Often because, her parents maintained a strict policy of eating anything that you take, with the expectation that one would at least try anything Mom cooked.) When Clara finally left home she left most of everything with her. Her parents wanted their ranch money to stay that way- ranch money. This caused Clara to only pack her own saved up allowance and clothes she had crammed into a suitcase hardly worth detailing.

Clara was then startled by a noise. To be precise, her own stomach roared with a voracity that spoke depths, if not to the people around her then to Clara herself. "Big dreams require big meals," she said to herself with a slight chuckle before bringing down the fold-out table built into the seat in front of her and pressing a button to request the food server come around. She shifted from her slightly slouched, relaxed position to a more uptight one, and when the server came around she barraged the man with a variety of questions. Most pertained to either discounts and daily deals or healthy variations of items on the menu and ways to count calories, but before the waiter could answer any of them she fired out the next one. Before she could even get a quarter done with her onslaught, however, the waiter simply stated in an exasperated tone, "I will just get you the daily special." Clara then acknowledged his response before he went to get the food.

When the daily special arrived, she was appalled at the size. It was a a round bowl about the size of a balled up fist which contained a thick broth inside. "This is the daily special?!" She exclaimed, outraged to the server.
"Yes Ma'am." The server replied meekly.
"This is an outrage! How could you charge the price of a full meal for this!" She argued as she slammed her right fist against the table, causing the contents of the broth to bounce up against the plastic lid that was keeping the broth secure and allowing for her slightly-past shoulder length hair to shake from the aftermath, it's dirty-blonde hue reflecting off the shiny bowl. The waiter himself simply stated a meek apology and suggested in an almost-sarcastic way that she should confront the chef at the next stop about it.

While her rant felt good to let out steam, it didn't resolve the fact that there was a full bowl of broth in front of her, though. Lamely, she took the plastic spoon from the soup bowl package and had a taste of the broth. "This is surprisingly delicious!" Clara admitted to her own mind softly as she began to dig into the otherwise tiny bowl. The broth, while simply being different shades of white in her bowl, came out as a variety of different tastes and colors in her mouth. It almost seemed that the broth tasted like whatever she thought of at the moment, and so Clara first a scoop of Chicken Noodle Soup, then some Roast Beef, and after that fruit salad. However, before she could continue her food-driven ecstasy, she ran out of the broth. Hungry for more of the apparent miracle broth, and surprised how no one else was reacting to this crazy new dish, she summoned the server again to request another bowl. And another. Eventually a nice stack of plastic bowls was sitting in the corner of her table, and Clara could feel her stomach bloat with the immense amount of soup she had consumed. Her stomach strained against the black leather vest she had buttoned tight against her rose-colored shirt underneath. Clara wanted more, however, and so unwilling to deal with the tightness of her vest anymore she unbuttoned it and requested yet another bowl. By the time she was done eating the bowls of broth the tower stacked in the corner had collapsed and spread it's licked clean bowls across the folding table, leaving not a single space empty for another bowl. Clara felt burdened with the extra pound or two from pure broth that had yet to digest, and her stomach stuck out like a filled balloon, just waiting to be popped. Instead of popping however, Clara dropped. Brushing aside the mess of plastic bowls with her arm into the waiting trash bag of a passing train steward, she promptly collapsed into a food coma, and fell asleep for the rest of the ride to Grasso Greens.

EN: This is my first story guys, I hope you enjoyed it! I plan on writing some more chapters in the future, as this one was mainly to set up some plot elements and character development. There will be less exposition and more fattening-times later on! For now just leave a comment of what you liked and what I could improve on! Thanks!