"Huh?" The large woman muttered in confusion. "Come again?"
"I quit," Reagan answered, tossing her tacky uniform upon her boss's mahogany desk. "I'm out."
"Wait, why?"
"Because some of the girls here are bitches and are making this a toxic work environment," Reagan answered with a snarl, "But also, my tips have tanked and I just can't have that."
Ms. Nelson buried her round face into her pudgy hands, doing her best to fight back an encroaching headache. "Reagan, honey, you've barely worked here a month. And, more importantly, you're tips are falling because of your performance."
The redhead paused to consider the possibility, "Hmmmm, no. Pretty sure it's Samantha's fault, Heather."
"Please, it's Ms. Nelson." Heather frowned, "And no, Samantha is a gem. Best girl I got! It's just that you don't seem to write anything down and-"
"I have a system!"
Heather gapped wordlessly at Reagan, unable to process what she had just heard. Defeated, Heather sank back further into her chair. The redheads chattering had only worsened Heather's headache. Annoyed and desperate, the Texan reached towards her drawer to retrieve a bag of her elixir. Spiced jerky. Normally Heather abstained from eating her guilty pleasure in front of others, it just wouldn't do for a respected chef to be seen guzzling gas station snacks in public, but Reagan had sapped the Texan of her willpower. The Texan was no stranger to the follies of the food industry. Having spent twenty years in the business, Heather had seen it all and had the figure to prove it. She could handle a short-tempered cook or a thieving hostess, but Reagan Durant was a beast unto her own. One bag morphed into two which led to three, Heather's pace only increasing with time.
Reagan stood awkwardly as she watched her former boss engorge herself on bootleg brand beef jerky, the only sounds in the office were of the Texan's incessant chewing and the worrying creaks of her chair. Now that Heather wasn't signing her checks, Reagan felt she could appraise her ex-employers figure clearly for the first time. It had always been obvious that Heather was a rather large woman, that much was obvious, but it was only now that Reagan realized just how big Heather actually was. Easily over 300lbs, her stubby limbs, ripe with fat were massive even for her frame. Her legs wobbled with huge saddle bags wrapping around them and her belly jutted forward proudly, rising and falling with Heather's increasingly haggard breath.
Her nerves finally stated, the jumbo-sized restaurateur replied, "Reagan, really, it doesn't matter. I was gonna take you off the floor anyhow."
Reagan stiffened at the statement, her ego suddenly intervening. "Why's that?"
"Well, frankly I don't think waitressing is the best fit for a woman of your talents.
Reagan's eyes narrowed. "Let's say you moved me before I quit. What was the plan?"
Heather tapped her fingers on her rounded gut and smiled, "Well,...
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