'It's you!' I said. I hadn't seen Dmitri since the contest; I gathered he was rather sore from having lost, but he came over now all smiles, patting his stomach, which seemed a little rounder than I remembered.
'Hey, Con,' he said. 'Looks like we're going head to head again.' He stuck out a hand. 'May the best man win, yeah?'
'Yeah,' I said, shaking it. 'Where're you representing?'
'Mimi's,' he said, grinning. 'It was all Allie's idea.'
'Oh,' I said, my heart sinking. 'Are you and her... you know...?'
Dmitri grinned broadly, and was about to say something, when a loud gong sounded, and we turned suddenly to the platform. A man so fat he was basically spherical stood there in a tuxedo, booming, 'Gather round, gather round, it's time for the contest to begin. My name is H. Arthur Bartleby Thompson-Thompson III, and I am the founder of this august competition. This modern world of ours seems often to have forgotten the wonders of gastronomy. We forget that to eat is glorious, and that big is beautiful. I have made it my life's work,' he said, putting his hand solemnly on his vast belly, 'to remind it. Without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce our contestants.
'From the Happy Rabbit Diner in Lakeview – Miss Una Spring!' I realised I hadn't expected there to be girls, certainly not like her; Una was tall, black, deep-breasted and already possessing a sizeable belly whose two thick rolls could be seen easily under her tight red top. A lot of her weight, however, I saw as she stepped onto the scale and H. Arthur Bartleby Thompson-Thompson III began to adjust the slider and determine her weight, was in her considerable ass and thunderthighs, which were crammed into a pair of jeans. 'Miss Spring is 5'11", and weighs 221 pounds,' he announced. Everyone clapped, and Una took her seat, grinning at her supporters who whooped in the corner.
'Next, from right here at Quando's, last year's second-place finisher, Mr Sam Johnson!' The noise of the crowd was deafening as a BIG guy, his round gut half-exposed under a tight white t-shirt, took the stage. 'He weighs 346 pounds and is 6'4" tall!' I shot a worried look at Dmitri, but he seemed serenely unbothered.
'And representing the Blue Whale Fish Bar, Miss Inge Breen!' My jaw dropped as I saw the thin, smoking hot blonde girl in short shorts and shirt tied like a farm girl's under her breasts, exposing both her cleavage and flat stomach who jumped onto the stage and waved round at everyone before hopping onto the scale. 'My word – Inge weighs 117 pounds and is 5'5"!' Everyone applauded again as she took her seat.
'Next we have Mr Dmitri Henner representing Mimi's in Hesper! Mr Henner is 6 feet tall and weighs... 215 pounds!' Dmitri beamed at the crowd as he took his seat.
Finally, it was my turn. H. Arthur Bartleby Thompson-Thompson III smiled broadly at me and led me to the scales, and only as he was adjusting them did I realise I hadn't weighed myself in ages – I had no idea what they were going to say! 'Mr Conrad Greene is 5'10" and weighs ... 185 pounds!' Wow, I thought, thirty pounds in three weeks at Dee's – maybe I did have a chance after all. But I'd need to step up the pace if I was going to beat this lot. 'Remember,' said H. Arthur Bartleby Thompson-Thompson III, 'it's not starting weight that counts, but the biggest gainer who wins!
'The fine people here at Quando's have provided us with a meal to get the ball rolling – a dozen pizzas per contestant.' Waiters were bringing them out even now, and laying them out in front of us. 'The first – pepperoni. Your time starts now!'
We all chowed down, and I saw that Una ate quickly and efficiently, not getting a drop of grease on herself but seeming systematically to chew and swallow every bite in the blink of an eye and move onto the next. Sam took a bit more of a brute force approach, hardly even chewing but shoving everything on his plate down his throat with gusto. Inge, with her impossibly small frame by comparison, ate like there was no tomorrow, manically hoovering up her pizza in four enormous slices which she folded over and chomped on. Dmitri was his usual self, eating with almost palpable bliss.
I ate the only way I knew how, one bite after another, but the pizzas were so good that I soon stopped thinking about it and before I knew it, it was all over. Everyone was finished and the waiters cleared away the stacks of empty plates as we all sat back, rubbing our stuffed bellies. I had finished last – Inge, amazingly, had finished first, and the massive meal had given her a food baby belly that swelled over the waistband of her tiny shorts as she chatted to Dmitri.
'Well, I never liked being so skinny,' she was saying, 'and I need the money for college, so I thought, why not? I'm going to get fat someday, why not have a restaurant pay me to do it?'
Further along the table, Una and Sam were getting acquainted. 'Yeah, I do a lot of eating contests,' said Sam, 'but you'd be surprised how little weight you gain in those, I mean, it's usually just fifteen minutes to eat the most hot dogs or whatever. Now, over a long time sitting on your ass, that's where you pack on the pounds.' Una nodded in agreement.
Evenetually it was time, to leave, but it was only mid-afternoon, so we said our goodbyes and Drake drove me back to Dee's, where I spent the afternoon eating my way to the bottom of sundae after chocolate fudge sundae, deep in thought.
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