Octavia woke up, tried to rise from her bed, had realized her predicament, and had screamed.

Heavy, jarring hoofsteps preceded Vinyl opening the door to Octavia’s bedroom. Both mares froze in place, panting for breath for different reasons, staring at one another in shock.

Octavia could barely believe the mare in front of her was Vinyl Scratch, but the hair, Cutie Mark, and distinctive eye-colour all gave it away. Vinyl had never been the most athletic pony, but she was always at a healthy weight. Now, she was a blob of a mare. Probably close to twice her normal weight. A sagging belly, sagging plot, and sagging chins all made the reality of the situation seem more absurd.

Vinyl could barely believe Octavia was in front of her. The prim and proper mare had absolutely ballooned overnight. No wonder Octavia had screamed: the mare was so fat she was having trouble getting out of bed.

Uncomfortable silence stretched on as the two mares tried to get used to the sight and feel of their bodies.

“Um,” Octavia broke the silence, “Help?”

Vinyl smiled, and waddled over. With both her magic and body weight, they managed to get Octavia to her hooves. Octavia swayed a little, sweating already from the exertion of just getting out of bed.

“This is ridiculous! How am I supposed to play my cello!?”

Vinyl shrugged, her widened shoulders causing soft ripples in her fat body. She turned on her heel, and waddled out of the room, angling her hips so they wouldn’t get caught in the doorway.

Octavia sighed, looking at her massively bloated self in her mirror, “I’ve got to lose this!” Octavia opened her wardrobe, digging through her ties, suits, and dresses, before finding what she was looking for: her little-used exercise clothes.

Trying to get the too tight clothes on was a challenge that left Octavia sweating and gasping for air, wincing as the seams creaked and groaned as they settled. It was uncomfortable, but it would do.

Squeezing out of her bedroom and out of the front door, Octavia’s eyes burned when they saw sunlight, like she hadn’t been outside for a long time. Octavia shook her head, that was ridiculous. She’d just been outside yesterday-

Then she saw what she was looking at. Too wide doors, sturdy furniture, and fat (obese) ponies were everywhere. All chattering anxiously and looking terrified. A few seemed not to care about the sudden increase in weight, but most looked worried. More than a few had jogging suits on.

Octavia ignored the curious looks of ponies around her, as she slowly began to trot. It was awkward, and uncomfortable, and Octavia was already sweaty and panting after a few steps. She steeled herself, and pushed herself. She was too aware of her many pounds of fat jiggling and wiggling with each movement she made, and that spurred her on.

She made it halfway around the town square, just outside Sugarcube Corner, before she realized she hadn’t eaten anything. One inhale of the delicious smells coming from the bakery halted Octavia mid-step. She lumbered to an awkward stop, and was inside the door before she realized what she was doing.

Octavia couldn’t stop herself from ordering a ‘light’ snack of a large milkshake and a dozen cookies. She sat at a booth, basking in the air-conditioning. One sip of the milkshake, and she couldn’t help but undo all her ‘hard work’ from her ‘jog’. All the while, a little voice in the back of her head just told her she deserved the break and the treat. After all, it wasn’t everyday she ate like this, right?

(LINE BREAK)

Vinyl was...conflicted. Her music career didn’t depend on a certain level of fitness. If she so desired, she could even be a room away and her magic would know exactly what to do with her turntables. Vinyl was free to do what she wanted, eat what she’d like, and never have her music suffer for it.

Octavia, on the other hoof, had to be able to stand on her hind legs and hold that position, maybe for hours at a time. As it stood, pun unintended, Octavia couldn’t even stand on her hind legs, much less try to play.

Vinyl wanted to see her longtime friend blossom into the fatty she was clearly meant to be, but music was intrinsically a part of who they both were. It was hard, watching Octavia to pile on more weight when it was clear she didn’t want to.

So, Vinyl had written a proposition to one of the new companies dedicated to new technology to help those too fat to do everyday tasks. Vinyl was blanking on the name, something along the lines of ‘feel good’. She had written them a proposition: she would plug the company in return for them developing a device that would help Octavia play again.

Vinyl’s fame as DJ-PON3 would come in handy to the company, especially since she could feel her mobility get less and less every day. Her advertising would be invaluable to them, she hoped. All she had to do was make her case, and get Octavia back.

(LINE BREAK)

Octavia’s half-circuit of the town square had gotten more pathetic as time wore on. With each passing week, her weight continued to climb. Her workout suit had given up weeks ago, making her buy a bigger one out of sheer frustration. Now, less than a month later, it was beginning to give up as well. Little tears in the fabric were filled with sagging fat. Her stomach bulged over the waistband of her pants, not touching the ground because of how tight the pants and shirt were.

It was uncomfortable, and hot, and miserable, and Octavia couldn’t keep lying to herself anymore. She was too fat to play, and would never play her cello again. She sat under a tree, heaving for breath in between sobs. She was ruined, and nothing anypony could ever do would stop that.

Octavia would never perform again. With current events in Equestria, Octavia could focus on what her body had been trying to tell her: that she should be the biggest glutton she could imagine. She was never going to play again, so why continue to hold herself back?

It was a long shot, but she could earn some money participating in the different eating contests around Ponyville, or could teach young ponies how to read music. Hiccuping, Octavia somehow got to her hooves.

She was exhausted, and starving. No more ‘controlling’ her portions. From now on, she’d glut herself at every meal and at all times in between. She lumbered into Sugarcube Corner, mentally vowing to throw her tracksuit away when she got home.

Octavia wouldn’t need it anymore.

Author's Note

This is the first in a two-part bit. I hope you've enjoyed this! Happy Easter everyone!