Wendy trotted off to her first period class, her pudgy fingers greedily wrapped around a donut. As she shoved the treat down past her lips, she arrived at her classroom, only to find a kitchen in its place. Was she in the wrong room? The welcoming glances from her peers and teachers said otherwise, but this wasn't her class at all. She took a seat by her friends from the class she was supposed to be in, who were seated her, all slightly rounder than she recalled.
"So, today we're going to prepare chocolate fondue," her teacher said, her pudgy stomach pushing the buttons of her shirt.
What was going on her was a question Wendy chose not to answer. Instead, she focused on devouring the fondue and the ingredients to make it. Working in a group meant sharing, yes, but the vat of fondue in the end was more than enough to satisfy their guts.
Wendy walked away from the class rubbing her distended stomach, only to find, walking to her next period...
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