Supervillain, super genius, super fat

Chapter 1

Jessie Jester tumbled back into her subterranean hideout after yet another unsuccessful heist. She’d been trying to rob the city’s biggest bank, but just like always, that meddling Mole-Man had been one step ahead of her. Somehow, he had figured out her entire plan, and had swooped in at the last moment. He’d captured some of her best goons, and she’d only barely managed to escape by throwing down a Silly Smoke Bomb.
Now she was flopping back into her secret Laugh Lair completely empty handed. At this point in her life, her lair was the best thing she had going for her. It was built in the city’s sewers, and had been painstakingly decorated so that every element was clown themed, including all of her exercise equipment. She flipped and pranced up onto the nearest candy-striped pull-up bar and sighed. Her toned arms supported her as she did a few gymnast flips and landed on her couch, which was decorated to look like a giant laughing mouth.
“What’s wrong, boss?” asked Pagliacci, her most loyal henchwoman.
“It’s that Mole-Man!” Jessie said, “he’s always one step ahead of me!” she tapped her chin. “If only I weren’t such a ditz!”
“Don’t say that about yourself, boss!” Pagliacci said, “You're a real genius.”
Jessie shook her head. “No need to flatter me, Pags. I know I’m a few spoons short of a cutlery drawer. It’s why Mole-Man is able to beat me every time! I just wish there was some way to get smarter!”
“You could take up sudoku,” Pagliacci suggested, “Or go back to finish high school.”
“No, no,” Jessie replied, “too much work.” She pulled up her phone and started googling. “See!” she said, holding up her phone, “This is what I’m talking about!”
She’d discovered a product called ‘Doctor Genius Einstein Bars’. Their label had a little cartoon scientist on it. He had a bulging brain, and a bubbling vial of pink liquid. Underneath him were the words 'Guaranteed to Increase Brain Power’.
“Jessie, this seems like a scam,” Pagliacci said.
“Pags,” Jessie said, “If it was a scam, why would there be a doctor on it?”
“You make a good point,” Pagliacci said.
Jessie tapped her temple. “That’s why I’m the criminal mastermind and you’re the hench-woman, Pags. Now get me some of those bars.”

After Pagliacci left, Jessie cheered herself up by doing sexy poses in front of the mirror. It was a fun-house warped mirror, but Jessie had a fun-house sense of reality, so it balanced out. She’d always been fit, even before the accident. Since she’d committed to her life of crime, which involved a lot of punching, jumping, and running, she’d become super toned. Her signature supervillain outfit was pretty skimpy, just a heart-patterned bra and some polka-dot shorts, really, and it showed off her wash-board abs. Her arms and legs were packed with tight muscle, which bulged when she flexed. Even beyond her muscles, she had a unique look.
Shortly after dropping out of her senior year of high-school, she’d been involved in a chemical accident that had left her skin and hair dyed bright white and her mind completely addled. Now her unnatural albinism was part of her style, and she showed off as much of her ultra-pale skin as possible, though she did often dye her hair a crazy color, and smear circles of rouge onto her cheeks.
Her skimpy outfits also helped show off some of her most noticeable features: her huge and perky tits. She considered her boobs one of God’s gifts to mankind. When she wore a bra, they bounced like white basketballs and pressed together in a fantastic display of cleavage. When she went topless they hung on her chest with an almost stately magnitude, rolling and knocking together as she walked like the balls in a newton’s cradle.
Once she was back to feeling confident about herself, she took a break to run on her treadmill, which was upholstered in shaggy, lime-green carpet. Her tits bounced as she ran, jumping back and forth like the maracas of a particularly lively mariachi player. After two minutes of running, Pagliacci re-entered the lair, sliding down the twisty-slide entrance. In one hand, she had a plastic shopping bag.
“Did you get the bars?” Jessie asked.
“Yup,” Pagliacci nodded. The henchwoman was taller than Jessie but less curvy, with a flat chest and a middling ass. She was dressed, as always, in a full latex jumpsuit, patterned with vertical black and white stripes, and a jangling jester hat with three peaks.
Jessie hopped off the treadmill. “I’m going to be so smart after this.”
Pagliacci handed her the cardboard box, which she tore open. With gusto, she ripped off the wrapper of the first bar. It was an unnatural pink in color, and was drizzled with some kind of white frosting. Jessie popped the whole thing into her mouth. It tasted delicious, filling her mouth with a delectable sweetness that lit up her tongue. It was somewhere between biting into a juicy peach, and hooking your tongue up to a car battery, both of which Jessie enjoyed doing from time to time.
“Holy smoke!” she said, reeling. “I can feel my IQ going up already!”
She tore through the rest of the box over the course of the next couple hours. She sat on the couch, munching on the bars and watching horror movies. She laughed hysterically at every death, and weeped every time the killer was defeated. Soon, she found her fingers scraping the bottom of the cardboard box. She’d eaten them all. Her brain was pulsing.
“Time to plan my next heist!”

Jessie, Pagliacci, and three of her hired thugs approached the museum under the cover of darkness. Jessie felt almost uncomfortably full. She’d been snacking on genius bars the whole ride over, and was still chewing on one now. She wanted her mind to be as sharp as a tack during the heist, and it didn’t hurt that they tasted delicious. This meant that she had a food baby, and throbbing pain in her gut, but she figured it would be worth it in the end.
One of her goons, a broad-shouldered man who was unhappy that he had to be wearing clown makeup, smashed the lock on the museum’s door. They all snuck inside. Jessie tossed an empty wrapper over her shoulder and pulled another bar from her bag. Since discovering the bars, her rate of consumption had gone up dramatically. When she started, she could only manage one box every couple hours. Now she was, double, triple that. She was eating them almost as fast as Pagliacci could buy them, and it was putting a major strain on their bank account.
It was also causing her abs to soften, but she hadn’t noticed yet, and nobody was going to mention it to her.
The goons cut the alarms and started taking famous and expensive paintings off the walls. Jessie started to giggle and jump around in excitement, her boobs nearly bouncing out of her scanty bra. She took some cans of spray-paint out of her bag and enacted the best part of her master plan.
She spray-painted ‘the Puzzler wuz here’ on the wall in giant technicolor letters. If Mole-Man went after the Puzzler instead, she could get away scott-free! She began cackling maniacally.
“Yes! Yes!” she said, “He’ll never catch me now!”
“What was that, Jester?” a deep, chocolatey voice said. She turned around and saw Mole-Man at the entrance to the museum. He was taller than her by at least a foot, and his stout muscles rippled and pulsed in his skin-tight outfit. His wide-eyed mask obscured his face, and his cape flapped dramatically behind him, despite the lack of wind.
“Fuck!” she exclaimed. She pointed her spray-paint in his face and sprayed, completely covering the lenses of his mask.
“Hah!” Mole-Man said, assuming a martial arts pose, “You think that’s enough to stop me? Moles work best when we’re blind!” He jumped into the room and kicked Jessie in the stomach. Since she was so full, the kick was even more debilitating than it would have been normally. She sank to the ground, cradling her bloated gut.
Her goons turned their guns on Mole-Man and started firing, but he raised his bullet-proof cape like a shield. The bullets ricocheted, splintering the marble walls and shattering a priceless vase. He reached out, grabbed two goons, and knocked their heads together.
Jessie struggled to her feet and grabbed a painting off the wall. “Hey worm-sucker!” she shouted, and hurled the painting at him frisbee-style. It bounced harmlessly off of his broad shoulders.
He turned back to her, then at the remaining goon, who was running down the hallway holding a valuable bust. “I’ll deal with you later!” he said, then chased after the goon. Jessie was about to run after him, but someone grabbed her bra-strap from behind.
She turned and saw Pagliacci, who had been hiding behind a plinth.
“Let's go!” the side-kick whispered.
“We’ve got to kill Mole-Man!” Jessie hissed back.
“How?” Pagliacci asked.
“Through the power of friendship?” Jessie suggested.
“I think you know that’s not going to work.”
“Okay fine.”
The two women left the museum and dashed back across the lawn towards Jessie’s polka-dotted get-away vehicle.
“You know,” Jessie said, “I don’t think all those bars made me any smarter.”
“You don’t say,” Pagliacci responded.
“You know what that means?” Jessie asked.
“They were a scam?” Pagliacci asked.
“No silly,” Jessie said, “I just haven’t eaten nearly enough.”