This choice: Food, food, food! Scour the alleys for something • Go Back...Chapter #8Escape from the Alley by: Komari The massive hunger burning deep in the fires of Meowth's belly compelled him to seek more food, perhaps an aftereffect of the spiked chicken. If the subject could still move upon being altered, surely "Plan B" would be to make him heavier 'til he couldn't walk. Or at least, that's what the Pokémon thought as he waddled toward the hole in the wall, drool spewing from his maw with every tremoring step.
He soon discovered, however, that the hole was no longer big enough to support his behemoth bulk, prompting in several options for the feline. He could simply crash through the brittle surface and barge into the alleyway, or he could try an alternative approach. Desolate as the area was, he still felt he could attract noise by his actions if he chose the former choice, prompting him to stand and think for a minute.
The answer, or so he thought, came naturally to him. With a gargantuan belch, a steaming torrent of drool catapulted out of his maw and onto the hole, coating it in a thick layer of sloppy drool. Meowth thought this ought to be a good enough lubricant to slide his body through, watching the tendrils of slime drip along the edges of the beckoning hole. He lowered his body as best as he could, laying on his slick, blubbery stomach to push himself through.
Unfortunately, he immediately found himself stuck upon entering the hole, stereotypically stuck at the halfway point of his body. It seems his titanic tummy couldn't get through, leaving Meowth to groan in dissatisfaction. His frustration caused his gut to rumble, belching out a thorough wave of drool onto the stone flooring of the alley. His innards continued to rumble... and immediately another idea formed.
Gathering his will, the Pokémon held his lips tight while breathing calmly through his nose, keeping all orifices as inhumanly tight as possible. As if immediately sensing this defiance, his gas production kicked into overdrive, stomach gurgling and growling in anger. Involuntarily he began to belch, but he didn't release it, simply letting it collect in his cheeks along with his drool. His bowels were on fire, swollen with an overabundance of gas that tried to free itself, but barely managed to do so.
As expected, the Meowth began to inflate then and there, stomach lifting off the ground. The bloated belly began to lose its chunky appeal, becoming much more of a sphere in the process. Limbs, arms, face - nothing was untouched by the blocked flow of gas, eyes near bulging from the sockets of his skull.
Then, after reaching a large enough size, the hole burst into splinters, creating a much larger hole in the process, more than enough for the fat feline to slide through. Satisfied, he let his body bulk up ever so slightly before releasing all he had stored up in one single eruption.
It began with his rump. Like a smelly typhoon it came, a roaring thunder that heralded a stench most foul, the entirity of the room behind him manifesting as nothing more than a festering hovel of stink. The very whiff of his scent caused his lips to part in a literal torrent of drool, belching harshly in the process, propelling each steaming gallon of raw saliva against the far wall of the alley. Again and again his front and backside howled out in rip after rip of air, the scent of his rump so foul it nearly had substance, while the overflow of drool threatened to pour out into the streets.
Then, quite abruptly, it stopped. Like a flood barred by gates of fat his body quieted, and he was thankful, managing to slide up to his chunky footpaws once more. He was now free, but the recent expulsion left him oh so hungry - hungrier than he had ever been. His drool was now sincere rather than involuntary, sliding down his rotund gut and sinking between his fat flexing toes. It was time to eat! But what to eat, hmm...? | Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
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