""What?"
"I said, I sense that he's of great size! Now, hold on, I may have some..." Swizzle hops down from the counter and rummages through a small trunk. After a few seconds he appears to find it, and pops back up with another vial of what appears to be an identical powder to the Wishing Powder.
"Ten quid."
"Really? Cool. I'll take it." You pull out a wallet, and hand over a tenner, and take the vial.
"Now, go see your friend," Swizzle says as you walk away.
You walk over to the buffet, stomach bouncing lightly. Looking round once inside, you see a hat rack with your friend's familiar coat on it, and the table next to it a person facing away from you with Mikey's haircut. You turn to the cashier and say, "I'm with table 9," and part with another tenner. The woman leads you to Mikey's table and sets you down, then walks away. You look up at Mikey, and a huge boy looks back at you.
"Hi, Mikey," you say, breaking into sweat.
He looks at you, then grins. "Hi! How are you? How did you know I was here?"
"Did you go to that apothecary-shop-thingie?"
"Notz and Yeps?"
"Yep- I mean, yes, that's it."
"Yeah, why? Did you like my fog?"
"Very nice. Um. How long have you been here?"
"About an hour. Why?" Mikey brandishes a paperback book.
"Oh, I dunno. So, what's good?"
"Well, the chicken's fantastic, the pasta is delicious, and everything in the dessert section is fabulous."
"Oh, so you've been here before?"
"No, this is my first time."
"Then how- ohhhh..."
"What?"
"You've tried everything?"
"Twice. Three times, even four times. Once it was five times."
"Really, wow... so, um, how much, er, do, uh..." You stumble along.
"How much do I weigh?"
"Er, yes?"
"Well, I wished myself to be 500 pounds, but I don't know what I weigh now." He surveyed himself. "600 pounds?"
"Well, anyways, I'm just going to get a drink, I'll be back..."
You wander over to the soda machine, accustomed to your weight, and come back with a glass of cherry Coke. You pour some of the powder in, and take a sip. "I wish... I wish... I wish I had unlimited powder!"
Nothing happens.
"Darn, oh well. Now..." You take another sip, "I wish I weighed 500 pounds and everybody was accustomed to it."
A tingling sensation spread as your belly became huger and rounder, spreading up on the table, lifting your arms as rolls of fat developed. It finally stopped. Mikey was eating his food, and you were sitting on a overlarge, reinforced chair. No-one was staring. You get up and waddle over to the dessert counter, and the chef hands you a tray with your name on it. You take one of everything, and waddle back happily to the table, and begin to eat.
---
An hour later, you pat Mikey on the back and part ways. You're standing outside of the mall, and an SUV comes up. Your mother is inside; she helps you into the car and drives home. The house looks a bit different. There's a lift instead of a staircase, and things look more expensive. You hear a thundering noise, and look up to see your brother Mike peeping over the top of the banister at you.
You almost don't recognize him. He's much much fatter then last time you saw him, probably nearly 500 pounds. He comes down the lift, and heads over to the den. Your mother looks expectantly at you, and you follow Mike into the den. In the centre of the den was a huge bed. Your father has become a massive, immobile man, probably 1,200 pounds. He waves a hand, and says "Come on, sit down, I haven't got all day."
You sit on a couch, and Mike relaxes in an armchair. It squeaks at him as he leans back.
Your father pulls out a chart and your brother steps onto a metal plate. A little digital readout beeps and reads, "563 lbs". He beckons you to step on. The readout beeps and shows "521 lbs".
"Very good, very good. Now for me," your father says, pressing a button. The digital readout beeps twice, and displays "1,352 lbs".
"Well, I see we've all gained a bit. You've all done very well!" He waves you out; you follow Mike into the kitchen. He takes out a bottle of clear liquid and takes a sip, and his belly grows a bit.
Then...
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