It was a quiet night in the city of Maretropolis. A bright moon hung over the city, casting dull white rays onto streets and building tops alike. This partially illuminated the rooms of the building belonging to a research company by the name of Marex-Corp. One of a few prominent facilities in the city. Certainly above and beyond those Maretropolis Medi-tech lot. The rooms in question where state of the art laboratories, dedicated to the creation of new and improved materials and chemicals. Cutting edge stuff, designed to push ponykind to much greater heights in terms of medicine and science. They were secure, the very most important being at least 15 stories off the ground, with security becoming tighter higher up.
Bottles of chemicals in a vast spectrum of colour and viscosity littered the benches and tables in an organised chaos. Intermingled were clipboards full of notes. Scribbled in rushed, but legible handwriting, they each detailed painstaking work, each on exactly what processes were used. The loss of said records and formulas could cost Marex-Corp millions of bits, with most of the developmental products virtually irreplaceable. If sold to or indeed stolen by a competitor, it had the potential to ruin the companies near monopoly over the market.
As such, they had spared no expense in making sure the facility was utterly air tight in terms of security. Round the clock surveillance, guards armed to the teeth and enough checkpoints and keycards protected doors to make absolutely sure no unauthorised individuals would even make it a few metres without being detained.
Suddenly, the windows of lab 15-07b exploded, the glass punched right through by long tentacle like appendages. Alarms were blaring the instant they entered, though the appendages didn’t stop at the shrieking. Reaching out, it grabbed one of the experimental concoctions, as numerous others smashed open displays and venting chambers, tossing other projects onto the floor, creating a sickly smell as countless projects landed everywhere, as a miasma of horrific gas began to billow up.
By the time security burst in through the door, they only found a trashed lab, with a veritable carpet of mixed chemicals on the floor. Multi colored vapor permeated the air, forcing the security team to don gas masks, amids panicked shouts and barking orders. After a short while, the alarms died down, the team attempting to futilely make head or tail of the situation, as the sounds of peals of maniacal laughter echoed through the shattered windows.
Stepping out of a cordon of Police vehicles, a brown pony emerged. Police Commissioner Bourbon was a pony who took the issues of his city personally. Whilst the crime may not be as rampant as a city such as Ponham, it was still his duty to protect his city, be they simple thugs and robbers, all the way up to metacreatures. Standing outside of the Marex-Corp building, he was certain that the latest escapee from Maretropolis prison had indeed been here.
“Commissioner! What seems to be the issue?” Turning around, his brown trench coat snapping around his legs as he came face to face yet again with the crime fighting group, the Power Ponies. Dressed in a myriad of different coloured costumes, they certainly stuck out amongst the blue shirted department. Despite the fact that they were not the law, he could rely upon them to at least contain any supervillains, which his regular force wasn’t always quite up to the task at hand. I mean, what are you supposed to do against mad scientists wielding freeze rays and an armoured scuba diver armed with laser beams for eyes. The leader of the group, The Masked Matter-Horn, approached him.
“Well Matter Horn, it seems that the labs here were broken into just under an hour ago. The break in happened about halfway up the damned building, so just your average criminals or hooligans were not involved in this act of corporate espionage.” Adjusting his glasses with a free hand, he continued to address the horned purple Pegasus. “Just simply from external and internal security footage, we have deduced that it was the Mane-iac herself that broke in”. The assembled mares gave each other concerned looks.
“Whoa, whoa whoa! How in the hay did she get out! I thought she was locked in a high security prison! There’s no way she broke out!” Zapp exclaimed.
“Well, it seems that there was some infiltration into the prison staff itself. At least 2 guards have been detained on the suspicion they are Mane-iac henchponies, who conspired against the rest of the prison to bring in tools to aid her escape. It seemed that they allowed a cake to be brought into the prison and given to her as a gift. However, when it was squashed against the wall of her cell, it melted through metal and concrete like a hot knife through butter, allowing her to escape.”
“WHAT!!! A cake was used for EVIL! That Mane-iac sure is a big meanie to do something that low!” Fili Second exclaimed, her spiked poofy mane and tail flicking about in annoyance.
“So, do you know what she was interested in, Commissioner? If she stole some dangerous chemical, I’m pretty sure she is going to turn it into a weapon against us or the city.” Matter tried to everyone back on track. A small grimace appeared on Bourbon's face.
“Unfortunately, no. We’re not sure exactly what she grabbed. She made sure to almost utterly destroy the lab before she left, so anything unaccounted for may have been mixed with something else on the floor, or stolen.” Sighing, he looked up at the building above, drops of rain hitting his glasses as a small drizzle began to appear. “I’d love to tell you, but when she was busy grabbing the goods, she smashed the CCTV cameras. All we know is that it was probably some sort of biological affecting chemical, seeing as that floor is dedicated to it.”
“Right. Well, thanks for the heads up. We had better get going and stop her.” And with that, the group of seven took off, disappearing into one of the many alleyways. Watching them go, the Commissioner pulled his jacket closer around himself. Walking over to the entrance he spied some colleagues inside.
“So, you got anything more out of the staff? Bourbon asked, taking a glance outside as he did so.
“Nothing much more sir. We got a list of what they were doing in that lab, but nothing definitive in terms of what substance was taken.” Sighing, the commissioner took out a cigarette, his other hand producing a lighter. It was going to be a long night.
Bounding from street to street, from building to building, the Powerponies were heading directly to the source of the mischief, or where they hoped the source of mischief was. The South East Docklands was an area of the city most used for storage purposes and the occasional manufacturing plant, taking, processing and distributing cargo from the many ports in the area. Indeed, the sheer number of old and abandoned facilities made it ideal for any number of nefarious activities to go on.
Meeting places for gangs, illegal substance sales, and yes, hideouts for Supervillains. Taking the front of the group, Fili Second and Zapp made headway, pathfinding for the rest of the group. Masked Matter Horn, Mistress Mare-velous and Radiance formed the centre. Bringing up the rear, Saddle Rager and Hum Drum, the odd ones out in the group. Both were members of the team, but their contributions tended to be at random, occurring typically in dramatic life or death situations for the rest of the group, making for some comic book-like action.
To say that Saddle Rager’s power was an opposite of her personality was an understatement. Normally, the mare was quiet and almost painfully shy. When, however, she was enraged, her entire body would turn from being thin and petite, into a body that would put bodybuilders to shame. Spontaneously muscle would appear over her form, increasing her weight well over ten times. her anger would spiral out of control and go into an almost blind rage. Hum Drum, well, he didn’t have any powers. Whilst the others appreciated him, he was often the butt of the joke of some villain or another, but he did help where he could.
All of the group, however, were unaware they were being spied upon.
Laughing in her lair, the Mane-iac eyes flicked between screens showing various camera feeds around the area, which had been hacked into. Paranoid business owners made for great spying equipment. They had picked out the Power Ponies heading right for her, and she just smiled. There was no point hiding, they would get her eventually. She didn’t want to do anything to the city itself or it’s populus, no, she wanted pure and simple revenge. From their last fight, it seemed like the combination of Hum Drum, and Saddle Rager led to her downfall. Humiliating one of them before she was arrested seemed like a good idea, and now after her hench ponies infiltrated Marex-Corp, she was certain the concoction she had procured would be sufficient to know them down a peg. Hum Drum was a nuisance, sure, but it was the yellow mare in blue she was really gunning for...
Her lair was nowhere as elaborately set up as it was during her stay at the Shampoo Factory. The numbers of henchmen had decreased overall, most having been arrested after her last engagement. But no matter. Her eyes flicked over to the tank and dispenser being set up. At the top, a henchman dressed in a full protective suit dumped the flask of the stolen pink liquid into it. At the end, a wide nozzle faced the centre of the room, concealed by stacks of pallets. Giggling to herself, she gestured to the rest of her Henchmen, it was time to get to work, and bring down those pesky ponies a notch or two. ‘Time to set up the trap.’ she thought, a horrific grin splitting her face ear to ear.
The group ducked and weaved through the alley's, passing depressing pieces of long forgotten manufacturing plants and storehouses littered though the derelict industrial plant. Turning a corner, Matter Horn’s eyes clapped onto something suspicious. Holding her hand up, the rest of the team skid to a halt. Like most of the buildings in the area, it was constructed from brick and concrete, with large girders jutting out here and there. The outside was liberally plastered with trash, grime and graffiti, the weathered bricks cracked with gouges in the cement. Above the partially wood, partially corrugated metal door at the front, a sign hung ajar, the words ‘Sibelo-Lucota Distributions’ could just be made out, the flaking paint rendering it nearly illegible. Light streamed through frosted windows and gaps in the structure, betraying it’s disuse. “Either this is where the Mane-iac is hiding, or somepony else is going to get a rude wakeup call.” Matter whispered, the group creeping to the side.
Putting their ears up to the fractured, paint spattered glass, they could hear the loud, rambling speeches of their target. “…And with this brilliant new weapon, we shall doom all of Maretropolis! The fools won’t know what hit them, because they will be too occupied trying to save themselves from their own manes! Yes, the weapon shall animate their hair to come to life, and will take them hostage in their…'', pulling back, the group nodded to one another, they had heard enough.
“Ok, so the plan is we take down her guards first, then we take her down once they are out of the way. Is that fine, everypony?” Matter Horn asked. A series of nods and affirmatives came back. “Zapp, you and I will go in through the roof. Mistress, Radiance, you’ll come through the windows of the upper catwalk. Fili, Rager, Hum Drum, go in through the front door.”
Quietly, they took position. A couple of seconds passed as they waited. The skylight’s on the roof shattered, the windows on the side exploded, the door at the front slammed open and they ran in. Despite the fact that the Henchmen had been waiting for them, the direction of attack chosen allowed the Powerponies to get the upper hand in an instant. Lightning and magic bolts struck from the sky. Magical constructs pummelled henchmen and bowled them over. Lassos and projectile horseshoes struck out, sending the green haired underlings flying. Even Hum Drum got stuck in, tripping and tacking distracted guards. So far, it appeared they were winning, with the remaining few backing up on the bottom floor, the Power Ponies ready to detain them.
Suddenly, out of the battered crates that sat at the edges of the warehouse, more henchmen popped up. They flung what appeared to be coils of chain at the Powerponies. One struck Radiance in the chest, and then it wrapped around her whole body like a python, pulling her arms against her sides, preventing her from casting her spells. Soon, one by one, the rest of the group were brought down, with wings, arms and legs being restrained. Even Fili Second, a relative blur and nearly impossible to see with the eye, was caught by a lucky throw. Struggling against their bonds, the seven were dragged into the centre of the room, the Mane-iac grinned down at them from the catwalk above.
“Fools! Did you think I would be so careless, to let you foil my plans so unceremoniously?” There was a pause, a small cough, before she continued. “Well you all thought wrong!” Walking along the gantry, her wicked smile continued to glower down upon the immobile heroines/hero. Still getting no response from the group, she continued. “After the last time we fought, I was so close to victory. You were stopped, no one around to save you. Maretropolis would have become a hairpocalypse, if not for that Hum Drum and especially Rager.” She put her hands behind her back, a tentacle of hair resting under her head in mock contemplation.
“Fear not, little ponies. I am not going to terrorize the city, not just yet anyway. Being in jail, I had but one thought that utterly consumed me. Revenge!” Sliding over to a control panel, she fiddled with a few controls, the ancient, stripped down machinery barely managing to function. From the roof, a large hook descended, typically used for moving shipping containers, now repurposed for something more sinister. “You! Grab the white mare and hook her on!” Complying, they grabbed Radiance, who struggled in her bonds as she attempted to escape. No luck, as the hook was passed through one of the links. With a pull of the lever, she was raised up, dangling above the ground as the rusted, corroded cable groaned slightly.
“Unhand me you fiend! This is so unbecoming of a lady, you’ll ruin my combat ensemble!” Still, she tried to move and struggle, the links refusing to budge as they squeezed tight against her body.
“Now now, look at one. All so helpless, strung up like a turkey. I think, I’ll feed you to the sharks in the bay, you would make for a nice meal.” Her hair twirled around Radiance, spinning her in place, the cable holding her making ominous creaks and groans, the rusted wire being strained.
“You better put her down you jerk!” Zapp exclaimed, trying her best to pull off her oppressive bonds.
“How about… No. My, it’s so funny to watch you all get so upset and angry, when you can’t do anything about it.” As if to punctuate this, her hair lashed out at Radiance and slapped her on the arm. A yelp of pain was drawn out from her, the motion causing her to spin and sway around like a puppet.
“You, big, Meanie!” The shout came from Saddle Rager, her eyes squared directly at the Mane-iac, almost like she was trying to immolate the purple clad mare with her gaze alone. “Leave her ALONE!!, I’m going to come over there and wipe the smile right off your face!” and with that, her breathing increasing in intensity, her entire body exploded outwards. Her chains only worked for a couple of seconds, before thick, powerful slabs or corded muscle tore them apart, the links clattering to the floor.
Her arms, thin and feminine, swelled with muscle, growing to gargantuan sizes, biceps easily 3 times larger than her head. Her suit, whilst stretchy, could never withstand the sheer growth, the self healing material becoming criss-crossed with tears as it failed to contain her uber ripped physique. The butterfly bracelets were violently ejected from her wrists, and the neck scarf tore in two, both articles scattering across the concrete floor. Her flat stomach turned into a jumbo sized six pack. Her calves became monstrous, each easily larger than beer kegs. To accommodate the change, she herself grew in height, going from just shy of 6 foot, to well over 18.
By the time it had ended, a huge, overly muscled and extremely angry yellow mare stood there, as broad a police cruiser is long, glaring up at the Mane-iac, who, for some odd reason, wasn’t reacting to her change at all, with only the same, infuriating smirk gracing her lips. Wordlessly, she pressed another button on the console. The tank she had prepared earlier hummed to life. A couple of moments later, pink gas began to roll out of the machine in heavy clouds. The vibrant fog enveloped the still entrapped Powerponies, the miasma rising high enough to reach Saddle’s head.
“Hahahahah!!! Now bear witness to my full plan!” The six still trapped tried to not breathe, but the sweet smelling gas had blanketed over them in a mist, forcing them to inhale the sweet, artificial air. Saddle didn’t care, her nostrils flaring as she prepared to give the green haired pony a thrashing. Then she felt it. A curious feeling all over her body, her skin tingling in an odd fashion. Glancing at her arm, Saddles eyes flew open in alarm, surprise replacing her rage as she watched on in disbelief. They were shrinking! All over she could feel her mass retracting inwards as her meaty arms seemed to wither and shrink, like it was being sucked out of her.
“Behold! Your precious trump card is being rendered harmless as we speak! Her superpower is now useless! Even better, it’s going to become a hindrance to all of you! All thanks to the special formula I stole from that lab!” She paused for a couple of moments, watching as the rest of the group panicked as not only was their partner losing her muscles, so where they themselves. “But wait, It gets better. You see, the chemical works in two parts. It removes your muscle mass, but it does so by converting it into lipids!” A look of confusion materialised on most of her captees faces, before realisation dawned on them as they watched on in panic. “That’s right, you're all going to get FAT! Well, one of you more so than the others…”
Saddle Rager’s body kept losing its muscular form, yet, it was starting to fill out again. A ridiculous amount of muscle had now been removed, and was starting to pile back onto her body in the form of wobbling blubber. Her stomach, a wall of dense, hard muscle that could tank even the strongest blows from the mightiest villains now began to lose definition. What started as a moderate pot belly began to blow outwards. First, her stomach was a uniform bulge. Then, under its own weight, it split into two rolls, expanding outwards and sagging ever closer to the ground, blorping and groaning as it did.
Behind her, her once toned behind became a pair of flabby yellow and blue balloons, inflating with more and more lard. From her rock solid glutes the size of exercise balls, to beanbags of lard, growing ever larger. Cellulite dimples and folds began to mar the abundant loose flesh. Her hands and fingers bloated up, like someone had taken a glove and filled it with air. Her breasts too hadn’t been spared. A once impressive pair of pecs quickly began to take a huge portion of fat that her body struggled to find a place to put to overabundance of blubber. They blew outward like balloons, filling up with a generous portion of flab, turning her breasts into round ovals of fat.
Her face and neck were obliterated. Her cheeks puffed out and her neck expanded like a pillow, blending partially with her multiplying chins, of which three had formed so far. Her legs and thighs turned from columns of beef, to pillars of pudge. Her hands and feet were being threatened by the encroaching fat above them, seemingly sucking them into her now blobby appendages that were once her forearms and calves. In short, Saddle Rager had been turned from a veritable Adonis of muscle, into a wobbling mound, a monument to obesity. And yet, the fattening continued. Whilst the formula turned muscle into fat, it did so based on the relative weight of muscle to fat, and muscle weighs much, much more than fat.
And so, she continued to get larger. Like a water balloon attached to a tap, her body continued to inflate with lard. Rolls upon rolls crossed her back, turning into pillowy accordion-like slabs that squashed together. Her buttery yellow gut could probably be mistaken for a boulder at this point, like somepony had filled multiple waterbeds and stacked them onto each other. By now it had touched the floor and started to spread over it, taking some of the weight off her swollen feet.
In fact, at this point, her costume was suffering from her larger than normal growth. The normally stretched and torn suit was tearing itself even larger, only really designed to take a certain amount of yellow pegasus. Huge gashes in the fabric allowed for fat to ooze out of the gaps, placing more stress on the fabric, forcing the tears ever wider. They were prominent all over, especially in her rump and belly region. Her boobs were now vast barrel sized mounds of fat and milk, sloshing around as she tried to keep her weakening body stable. Saddle’s bra beneath was working in conjunction with the remainder of her costume to try and keep her vast milk jugs in check, though as more flesh poured over the edges of the cups, it became an increasingly difficult battle, turning into little more than white bars over her clearly visible nipples.
“Ahhahahah!!! Look at her. You call that a hero, she’s more akin to a bouncy castle or a parade balloon than an actual pony!” Glancing through the pink haze at the rest of the heroes, they too had taken on some extra ballast. Between each of them, a pair of thunder thighs had developed, or a bulging, flabby stomach emerged, the chains squeezing tight the mare’s and dragon's thickened forms. Flicking the leaver, the machine quietened down, the last dregs of gas puttering out.
“Soo, heavy…so fat…” Rager mumbled, her already deepened voice becoming even more so as tyre-like folds encircled her neck. Her aggression seemingly gone, simply attempted to keep her balance with her ultra obese body, not helped as her calf fat began to pool around her feet. Her legs ached, with the flabby flesh wobbling as they tried to keep her stable, causing the rest of her body to undulate like a buttery pile of dough. Above her on the catwalk, The Mane-iac watched in continued glee as the one who ruined her hair now had her body ruined in turn.
“Oh Saddle, did you know that that suit makes your bum look big? Oh, sorry, not big. I meant gargantuan, hahaha! Seriously, nature documentaries don’t have to be shot at sea, they have quite the land whale here!” Her hair shot out, and began to play with the overblown Pegasus. Attacking her body, she began to squeeze and grab at any fold or roll that called out to her. And oh so much called out to her. She plunged it into tears in the fabric, forcibly making them even wider, watching as more over nourished flesh came oozing though the gaps. A number of them simply squeezed her malleable body, pulling and wobbling the soft tissue. Her bloated tits were no exception. Each was lovingly groped, causing the gelatinous blobs of breasts blubber to slosh around.
Saddle flutily flapped her hands to try and stop the crazed mare groping her. They were useless, as they were starting to be swamped by her arm fat. The Mane-iac slapped and jostled her sagging plot, her smile seemingly getting wider as each meaty slap jostled those blubber boulders even more. Every concussive blow drew a moan from the mammoth mare, prompting the Mane-iac to continue. Each undulating shift and jostle tearing the fabric even more, releasing more dimpled lardy flesh.
“My my, look at this gut! I bet I could replace my bed with it, it’s all just so soft, warm and lardy!” Forcing her hair through the gaps in the fabric, she plunged them deep into her belly rolls and belly button, ticking and groping it, drawing panting giggles from Saddle, as her already difficult task of staying on her feet was becoming ever more distracted with the touching. “I can see you look very healthy, Saddle, you must be on a seafood diet, you see food and you eat it! I must give you some credit though for sticking to your diet, because you must be at it morning, noon and night, you buttery blob! I bet you could take a circus tent and turn it into a dress, and it still wouldn’t fit you!”
As the Mane-iac paced along the catwalk, the metal near inaudibly squeaked and groaned, even with her lithe body. After such a long time exposed to the weather and time, the unmaintained facility was showing its age. The particular platform she trotted over was constructed quite cheaply at the time, low grade materials to cut down on the cost of mass producing the warehouses. As such, the metal was of questionable quality and the bolts had rusted badly from disuse and lack of maintenance.
Giggling and jiggling, the inconceivably huge mare struggled to stand, the delicate balancing act disrupted constantly by the villains proddings and probings. “Ooh, I….hehe…can’t, hold it…Aah!” Saddle fell backwards onto her overblown plot, each cheek easily larger than a car and just as heavy, with an almighty crash. Her entire body wobbled like an ocean as the shock sent thousands of pounds of fat crashing into each other, noisily and juicily slapping against each other. Immobilized, the truck sized blob teetered on her pillowy mass, gravity tugging at every fold and roll surrounding her overblown form.
Two things happened. Firstly, Saddle's turquoise suit, after a valiant fight against the mares expanding girth and the Mane-iac’s tearing, finally gave up the ghost. It tore into multiple sections, clinging to the pillow like forearms, slab like bingo wings and waterbed like calves. Multiple shreds were ejected everywhere like confetti, allowing her buttery yellow flab to ooze even further outwards. The only things she was still wearing was her domino mask and a pair of overly stretched panties and bra. Struggling to preserve the last shreds of modesty, they too were fighting a desperate battle to stay on, digging deep into her flab, her panties disappearing into the canyon of ass cleavage.
Secondly, the whole warehouse shook from the impact, the villainous mare and her hench ponies sent staggering from the impact. Radiance, who had been virtually forgotten at this point, was thrown about wildly, the wires continuing to make unhealthy creaks and groans with each overexaggerated sway. The Mane-iac’s platform couldn’t take the shock so well either. There were a couple of moments of metallic groaning and tearing, before it collapsed, dropping it’s passenger like a stone. Unexpectantly free falling, she fell over the edge, tumbling over and landing on top of Saddle Rager. Like her analogy before, face planting on the blob of a mare was like landing on an inflatable. Arbeit much warmer, softer and jigglier. As it turned out, she was just as bouncy as one too, the force of landing sending Mane-iac tumbling down the shelf of her belly and onto the floor. The sudden impact of the green haired mare unbalanced Saddle, as she began to roll forwards.
Blinking, the Maniac’s gaze flicked up, just in time to see a wave of fat come crashing down on top of her. A muffled scream was all she could get out before she disappeared under the vast expanse of belly, her body squashed between the hard concrete and soft, heavy flab. For a good couple of moments, everything was silent, with both henchmen and Powerponies staring in disbelief. It was broken by Saddle, cheeks glowing rosy red. “Erm… d...did we win?”
Commissioner Bourbon had arrived at the scene just 10 minutes later. The distinct sounds of cracking lightning, magic beams and liberal amounts of property damage had alerted concerned workers and residents in the area, calling the police. By the time he got there, everything was wrapped up. To his surprise, he found the warehouse filled with a huge blob of yellow lard, some dazed, shaken looking henchmen, and the Powerponies tied up in chains, looking a little more rotund than usual. One of them had been dangling from an old cargo crane, her cheeks tinged red as the police lowered and released her from the bindings.
“So, Matter Horn. From what you have told me of the incident, and the other bits of evidence around the scene, I’m fairly certain we can have this whole mess sorted out in a week or so, max. At least now the Marex-Corp knows what was stolen now, and we can get the remedy.” Nodding her head, her slight jowls wobbling, Matter Horn glanced out of the open door of the warehouse.
“So, what are you going to do with the Mane-iac?” A small grin popped up on Bourbon's face.
“I’m glad you asked. We think maximum security will do it for her, as well as more rigorous stipulations on the qualifications of new guards to make sure nothing like this happens again.” He took a final drag on his cigarette, before dropping it to the detritus covered ground, stamping it out with his shoe. “Well, that’s after she’s been properly unflattened, of course.” With a thumb he pointed in the direction of the gathered cop cars, several of which were pulling away. Sitting in the back of an armoured truck, A partially squashed Mane-iac glared out at the group from the reinforced window, her entire body bound in the same chains used to restrain her victims.
“I’ll get you Powerponies! This isn’t the last you’ll hear from me. You bet your flank I'm coming back for you Rager! I'm not done with you or your flab yet! Ahahahah!!! You’ll see! I come and…” Turning the corner, the group missed the rest of the insane villains' ramblings, finally glad to be rid of her.
“Well, that’s that. Now all that’s left is to help care for the world's fattest mare, at least until Marex gets back to us with a cure. That’s a job I hope you can handle, Matter. We’ve called for a truck and a crane, that should be big enough to haul her to somewhere better than this dingy place.” Giving Matter a pat on the shoulder, he made his way back over to the squad cars. With one last glance over to the immobile blob, he watched as she was being fed cupcakes by Fili. The speedster excitedly jumped onto her, happily bouncing on top of the world’s biggest butt, wobbling around like fresh lemon jelly. Getting into his car, he turned the key, the engine rumbling to life. Spinning the wheel, he joined the procession of other vehicles leaving, inter on going home and getting some well-earned sleep. As he switched on the radio, he had only one thing to say. “Now, that is one fat ass.”
Author's Note
How's that for a story, aye? I was inspired by a couple of images by Necrofeline on FA I found the other day.
I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Please leave thoughts and criticisms below.
