"Ah well, I am very large. I do not know exactly how much I weigh - I am bigger than our scale. But, no matter, I can tell you that I reached the 330 pound maximum of our scale... two years ago!" the server said, chuckling and grinning. "If you want to be big like me, you must come here often," he added, rubbed his buddha belly for emphasis.

"Well, I'm not done here yet," replies Jason. "Time to bring on dessert!"

"Very good," the server replied. He replaced Jason's drink, while Jason did some damage to the dessert table.

A couple of plates of dessert later, the new jeans are feeling just about as tight as the old ones did before - but the belly above them is packed solid, which it wasn't quite before, Jason realises. He rolls up from the table and heads - slowly - to the cash, realising as he goes that he is close to waddling with a belly this full - plus, his new big shirt was getting snug around the middle too. He paid the bill - which was pretty modest considering all the food he'd put away - and the sumo-sized server appeared beside him.

"You must come again!" he re-iterated. "I am Cheng-do, but call me John - Little John!" he added. "Perhaps by your next visit I will have found a scale."

"Well, here's to 300!" said Jason, holding up a hand for high-five. "Little John" slapped his hand hard and turned to head back to the kitchen, leading Jason to admire the fat man's backside. Jason wondered if, with that massive butt and huge legs, if Little John wasn't 400 pounds... a thought that had Jason wondered what it would be like to be 400 pounds.

Jason headed out into the night, and caught a bus back to the frat, rather than haul his stuffed gut back the few blocks. The frat house was mostly quiet - the late night party animals were still out, the rest heading to bed - and Jason decided to hit the sack. The next morning, though, he awoke fairly early, and looked down at his middle. It was true, he really had eaten all that the night before, for his stomach still looked bigger. Getting up he picked up the jeans and shirt on the chair - yes, they really were much bigger than any he had owned before. He pulled out a pair of underwear and slipped them on, to see that they fit like a second skin at the waist - he'd need new underwear too, he realised, if he was going to follow his dream. One pair of jeans and one shirt wouldn't cut it - but then - he fished out his wallet from the new jeans. Yes, there it was, the new Mastercard in his name. None of it was a dream.

Which meant his new plan to get big wasn't a dream either! He quickly washed and shaved, then pulled on the new jeans and shirt again to head down for breakfast. He didn't always eat breakfast, let alone on weekends, but now he would never miss a meal - after all, they were already paid for in his frat house residence fees, and he was going to get his money's worth...with a little work, he could eat a lot more than he'd paid for, he figured.

The breakfast was great - once the little Italian lady who staffed the weekend breakfast realised that he wasn't just having a coffee and toast, she cooked him up a feast, which he gladly consumed. His belly sated again, he caught a bus to the big mall, where he put Grandma's credit card to good use with more jeans, shirts, underwear, even a sweater that caught his eye and was a generous fit on him - for now anyway! Then, back to the frat for a big lunch, and....