Chapter 1

Taking a sniff of crisp winter air, Taz let out a long sigh. The cold stung his nose which he normally hated, but lately he was glad to feel any kind of sensation. Before opening the door to his dorm-style condo, he noticed paint from the top of the door frame had begun to peel. Scowling, he reached up and plucked the stray chip, letting it float away in the ever-persistent mountain breeze. Taz opened the door, and as he went to go inside he heard a voice.

“Taz! How you been? Haven’t seen you much. Settling in alright?”

Taz turned to see his neighbor, Nate. He towered over Taz, who barely broke 5’8, and was as skinny as he was tall. Nate was fine, friendly even, but Taz had learned to keep people at arm’s length in the last year. He grunted something about how he had a call he needed to get to, and was about to tuck inside when he noticed Nate struggling to maintain eye contact. Taz looked down, sighing again as he realized his shirt had ridden up. He tugged it down and gave a half-hearted wave before closing the door behind him.

“Uh, see you!” Taz heard muffled from behind his metal door. He threw his keys onto the kitchen table and plopped down on his recliner, the only piece of furniture in his studio condo aside from a table next to it and a seventy inch TV on the wall. His phone buzzed. He took one look before realizing it was an old friend who, like everyone else in his life, was begging him for money.

“Winning the lottery ain’t what it’s cracked up to be,” Taz said, putting his phone aside and turning on the television. If anything, the lottery had ruined his life. Twenty million dollars had been halved by taxes, then depleted rapidly from friends and family who viewed Taz as an infinite piggy bank. He had fled to a shithole condo in a shithole city in a shithole state once he realized he was down to a few million left. Taz needed time; to figure out who to trust, what to do with his life and what remained of his winnings. That had been nearly three months ago. Since then, he had found little motivation to do much of anything. His days had been filled with television, video games, and not much else. He felt some relief from escaping his old life, but time previously spent swatting away vultures had given way to endless empty hours.

Taz flicked between sports games, bad sitcoms, and a nature documentary before settling on rewatching an old Japanese cartoon. His hazel eyes glazed over as animated high-schoolers shot lasers from their hands and learned the power of friendship.

Taz’s TV-fueled stupor was interrupted by the sound of giggles. He looked around, perturbed, but knew he was the only one here. Once he turned back towards the television, his view was blocked by several grey, blobbish creatures. Taz sat up, his mouth agape. The blobs seemed cartoonish, harmless really, and in the back of his mind Taz wondered if he had seen them somewhere before.

Oh great, Taz thought, I’ve completely lost it.

Taz put his hands in front of his eyes and parted them like he was playing peek-a-boo. The creatures were still there, giggling again. The largest of the blobs hopped on the recliner between Taz’s feet and began a kind of chant.

“We’re the Munchies, remember us? Now don’t go and make a fuss.”

The rest of the creatures, or Munchies, let out another round of giggles. Taz felt an odd pressure in his head. Did he remember these little things? He couldn’t recall anything specific, but had the sense this wasn’t the first time they had shown up here unannounced.

“We’ve come again to make you eat, easy with you stuck in that seat!”

A hazy recollection came to Taz. He hadn’t really noticed, but since he had moved here he had gotten a little lax with his diet. Most nights he had take out, where he usually cooked before moving here. Taz had always chided friends for snacking and eating sweets, but he had started grabbing snacks and desserts from the grocery store, as if on autopilot. Lately, he had begun to wake up, perturbed by the amount of empty food containers left from the night before. Yet, he could hardly chalk up a little indulgence to a group of magical, mysterious blob creatures. Taz shook his head and muttered to himself.

“I need to get a job or volunteer or something, the loneliness is starting to get to me.”

Taz went to lean forward and get up from his recliner when the Munchie by his feet shoved him back with surprising strength. Taz fell back into the cushy seat, hearing the springs creak.

“Hey!” he protested, the Munchies only giggling back.

“With you bored and blue and housebound, we’ve come to get you good and round!” the Munchie on the recliner sang, patting Taz’s midsection. Taz frowned, shooing the globular blob away.

“I might be a little sidetracked, but that doesn’t mean I’m getting fat,” Taz shot back. The Munchies gave each other looks, then nodded at once. Indeed, through their influence Taz hadn’t noticed the changes that had been happening to him. Before his self-inflicted exile, he had worked in construction. The job kept him fit, even if he had a pretty big appetite. Since arriving in his condo he had gone near sedentary. His body had softened, yet the Munchies had used their powers to ensure Taz never noticed. Clothing that began to restrict him was simply moved to the back of his closet and replaced by sweats. Resolutions to get into a workout routine pushed away to tomorrow. Now his largest tee shirts, once baggy, outlined the soft swell of his middle.

“Of course not,” a Munchie on the ground said, “you're positively petite! You deserve a nice tasty treat.”

Taz frowned. This was all too weird.

“A treat? But it’s three o’clock. I’m not hungry.”

The Munchies giggled as they scurried to the kitchen. Taz heard the sound of boxes and wrappers being opened, and before he knew it a platter was hoisted up to the Munchie on the recliner. The Munchies grinned.

“Munch this, see it’s great! We even got you a full plate.”

The Munchie thrusted a plate of snack cakes onto Taz’s lap. He recognized them from his pantry. He had bought them last week hardly aware he had, later chiding himself for filling his shelves with junk he’d never eat.

"Ech, gross," he said, “I don’t want these!” The munchies giggled, and suddenly Taz felt his stomach rumble. He tried to throw the platter away, but as he reached down he found he had grabbed one of the cakes instead. He eyed it reluctantly, gaze shifting to the crowd surrounding him.

“Munch, munch, munch!” they chanted.

Taz had never liked junk food. It was all too sweet, salty and processed. Suddenly though, he wanted the Zebra cake in his hand. He tried to resist, not wanting to spoil his appetite, but found his willpower melting within seconds of the Munchies continued chants.

“Well... one couldn't hurt.” Taz shoved the entire cake into his mouth. His eyes shot open. The cake didn’t taste overly sweet, the flavors were delectable. He moaned in pleasure as he chewed, crumbs falling onto his shirt.

“Good boy, what a treat, but this will make it extra sweet!” another munchie sang, shoving a can of whipped cream into Taz’s free hand. He swallowed, nodding.

“I guess a little snack isn’t the end of the world,” Taz said, the alarm from his unexpected houseguests appearance fading. Maybe some sugar would help ease the malaise that infected his life. Nodding, he covered another snack cake in cream as he ferried it to his mouth. As he moaned with delight the Munchies cheered. They encouraged him to eat another, and another. Before he knew it, Taz had finished the plate, licking whipped cream and crumbs from the glass.

“Don’t be a bore, you need more, more, more!” the Munchies shouted in unison. Taz burped, surprised he could put away nearly a dozen sugary confections so easily.

“Sorry guys, but that was a lot,” Taz replied, a grimace flickering over his face. The onslaught of sugar and fat had left him a little queasy. “Any more and I might hurl.”

The Munchie stationed between Taz’s legs bore a blank expression. It crawled, more like rolled closer up the chair, reaching up between Taz’s thighs. Taz drew back, but was helpless to move away. The Munchie touched Taz’s stomach, rubbing in a circular motion. He tried to protest but felt a soothing sensation where discomfort had been a moment ago. Taz let out a long, thunderous belch, which prompted cheers and giggles from the crowd. Taz began to wonder if he had just been a little gassy. He felt better now, and as one Munchie replaced the empty plate with his phone, he opened a delivery app and flicked to a local Italian restaurant. As if in a trance, Taz put in an online order for a meatball calzone. His eyes glazed over.

“Oh please, just that? You’ll go to bed hungry.” the Munchie between his legs said. The rest of the Munchies snickered as Taz nodded.

“Oh, there’s a two for one deal, I love their chicken parm. And this one comes with fries and a two liter.”

Hours later, Taz lay supine on his recliner, the empty calzone boxes on the floor beside a quarter-full Coke bottle. He rested his hands on his distended stomach, groaning deliriously. Taz knew he had gone overboard. He had meant to keep the second calzone to eat throughout the week, but every time he tried to stop the Munchies egged him on. Whenever he complained about being too full they sang some silly rhyme and Taz was able to fit in another bite. They watched with delight, cheering him on after each consumed slice. He had grown more and more stuffed as the heavy fare filled him, now, he felt pinned by his swollen belly. Taz began to get drowsy, a food coma nearly pulling him to sleep before he heard the Munchies chant again.

“Munch, munch, munch, munch!”

“You can’t be serious,” Taz said, needing to peer over the swollen mound of his stomach to see the creatures.

“Every meal needs a good dessert,” the big Munchie said, “and you’re not done eating!”

Taz burped.

“No, no no!, I’ve already had way too much!”

The Munchies didn’t reply. Instead, as Taz lay too full to move, they scampered back into the kitchen. Taz heard the microwave buzz as the big Munchie looked down on him from between his thighs. A few Munchies came back and handed the big one a slice of pecan pie. Taz’s eyes widened.

“Please... I’m so full. I- I don’t want anymore.”

“Nonsense!” the big Munchie said, holding the plate towards Taz expectantly, “a little dessert is exactly what you need.”

Taz’s uncomfortable overfullness faded as he reluctantly took the plate. The Munchie giggled as Taz began to eat, hesitant bites speeding up as he chewed and swallowed robotically. His cheeks puffed out with the pie.

“Mmmfffff...” came muffled past Taz’s lips.

“Good boy,” the big Munchie said, reaching out for a container of ice cream the rest of the Munchies handed him. Taz nearly choked when he saw it. The slice of pie slid into his overpacked belly as his arms fell to his sides. As his fork clattered to the ground the big Munchie walked up over the curve of Taz’s middle.

“Stop! Please... I can’t. I-”

The big munchie tipped the ice cream container toward Taz’s lips. Melted sugar and cream flowed past, Taz doing all he could to swallow before it spilled on to him. The big Munchie grinned as the smaller ones gathered around to rub Taz’s stomach.

“We melted it to make it easy. Don’t worry, we won’t let you get queasy.”

Despite feeling like he might pop, the Munchies magic fought against the sensation. Taz took the ice cream in big swallows, each bringing back how overly full he felt. The Munchies continued to work their spell, but as the container drained Taz reached his physical limit. Each swallow became agonizing no matter what the Munchies did. After one final swallow, the last of the melted ice cream splashed onto Taz’s cheeks and dribbled onto his shirt. He lay there, suddenly alone, the weight of his gorge crashing down on him.