Lupin Quill was staring blearily at the clock in his kitchen. He lethargically plopped his doughy flanks onto a creaky wooden chair that did little to stop them from spilling off the sides, giving his peacock feather cutie mark the look of gently swaying in intangible breeze. Once his flank fat stopped jiggling, he crossed his chubby little forelegs on the table to keep his fat face off the countertop. He felt hollow and lifeless, and it didn’t help either that his dinner last night had been pathetic, just some crisps and soda. As his eyes started to droop, growing heavier and heavier, a cool gust blew through the window and ruffled his subdued turquoise mane. He was shaken immediately out of his trance, his shivers sending jiggles through his sizable flanks and torso. He checked the clock next to the window that he had been mindlessly staring past—6:28 AM. Only a few minutes before the sun was due to be moved up.
Lupin had always been the type of pony that had nightmares about waking up early. For him, the moments proceeding dawn had always been dark, misty, damp, and cold. These were things that the comfort-committed lardball avoided like taxes. Except he had to actually try to avoid taxation. To avoid mornings, he just slept in and started the day with a large and late breakfast, just an hour before his equivalent or greater sized lunch. The thought of his breakfast normally being five hours later in the day made his gut rumble a little from deep within his pudgy barrel. Had this been a pony he was waiting for, he would have felt nothing but fury and distain for the soul that required him to be awake at this hour.
But he wasn’t waiting for a pony at this hour.
Lupin was a big stallion, and he had equally big plans today. Plans like going to the grocers, getting a set of sketches done, maybe getting his mane trimmed, and, most importantly, going out to dinner with a patron he’d just put the final touches on a work for. But to start his day, he needed a big breakfast. And that’s why he was waiting for it to fly up to the window any minute now.
The clock ticked over to 6:29, another disgruntled grumble from his stomach. Lupin’s breakfast could usually be heard approaching at about this time. He —at least Fluttershy had assured Lupin it was a ‘he’— would sing incessantly as he darted from treetop to treetop, almost snapping the thick upper boughs like twigs. Lupin was lucky to have snagged himself a cottage outside of town, otherwise, any potential neighbors would likely have taken offense to such a vocal visitor this early on the weekend.
But there was a silence as 6:30 approached. No singing or chirping to be heard. Well, his belly sounded worried at least. He sighed, and let his head droop into his forehooves. Maybe he was taking a bath, or maybe he crashed through a window. Maybe Fluttershy had caught him in the act again, and was scolding the poor thing... or just having a conversation with him. There were so many scenarios to think of, yet his breakfast usually never failed to arrive late on Sundays. Although it honestly wouldn’t kill him to sleep in and eat a bit later. But a good and hearty free meal for the first thing in the morning was... well, it was enough to get Lupin up at this hour.
The clock ticked quietly into 6:30… then right on past it—still nothing. The eerie silence and lack of food caused a disgruntled burble to emanate from Lupin’s gut, and lead him to stand up on his overstressed chair and stick his head out the window, causing the sill to creak. He looked left and right, scanning the treetops, but his friend was nowhere to be seen. He couldn’t see far in the as yet unlit dawn. He took an experimental whiff of the air...
Syrup. There was definitely syrup nearby. Maybe something else sugary. He could soon sense Fried Hay hash too, as well as a hint of fresh muffins. The growling in his stomach let out a grumble of anticipation. It was close, but where could it possibly be—
The flash of black, white, and yellow along with a storm of flapping startled Lupin, sending him falling backwards onto the floor with a crash of his chair and a plop of his soft asscheeks hitting linoleum. After hauling himself back to his hooves with some difficulty, he was met with his pal standing at the window, his feathered friend had arrived!
It was only a month ago when he first met the giant Warbler. A few weeks before that day, the bird was embiggened by a spell Twilight had cast on him. The spell was meant to quickly heal him at Fluttershy’s request after the bird flew into the glass facade of the Crystal Castle. The spell was... too effective on a creature that size however. In her eagerness to help, Twilight neglected to carry a 3 when accounting for the tiny mass of the creature for the volume to potency ratio. Magnify the problem with her inexpert grip of her power as an alicorn, and her featherbrained foible made the bird grow to 30 times his original size...
But Fluttershy thought he was cute, and told Twilight to not fret about fixing her new friend, Mr. Warbs. Twilight had agreed, perhaps also as a way to not have to risk trying a counter-spell, and doing any MORE harm to Fluttershy’s rambunctious new friend.
Lupin had crossed paths with the big bird while he was causing a minor crisis in Ponyville. Without an adequately sized female to start a nest with, Mr. Warbs’s instincts ran wild, and instead of feeding what would be his chicks, he started trying to feed anypony he could find with whatever foodstuff he could grab. The ponies of Ponyville were not receptive to this, as they shifted and tried to move their mouths out of the way of his attempts to stuff them with daisy sandwiches, or by crying out in annoyance or fear as he tried to poke bundles of noodles in between their lips like a mouthful of worms it might feed to his chicks. They would always dash away at the earliest opportunity, sometimes even bucking at him with their hooves to tell him off. But he was still compelled, still determined to satisfy his instincts.
But when the Warbler tried to do this with Lupin, he... was the first pony to just let him go at it. He didn’t squirm, scream, or scram like the others. But then again, why would he? The bird had a bag full of triple deluxe Club Hayburgers he was trying to stuff Lupin with. Score.
And thus began the strangest feeder relationship in Equestria, beating out Princess Luna’s continual mockery of her sister’s ever-increasing flanks, only to sneak her an extra few cupcakes after dinner. After that strange and wonderful first encounter, a bond was formed. Within days, Warbs had followed the fat green stallion back home. Within a week, they both came to an understanding that Lupin was often hungry, and the Warbler had an innate need to feed. About twice a week, the bird would fly back around to feed his hungry, flabby ‘chick’.
Today, gripped in Mr. Warbs’s 2 1/2 foot long bill, was a tarp or cloth cover of some sort. If Lupin squinted, he could make out metal rings around the edge that indicated that this tarp likely covered somepony’s cart before it had been swiped by the massive avian. The cloth was wrapped up like the fabled stork’s swaddling cloth, all four corners of the cover gripped in his mouth. Except of course, this pouch, this—SACK, was almost as big as Lupin himself.
But Lupin wasn’t paying attention to the load Mr. Warbs carried, he was just relieved that he had come. “Hey, you scared me there, fluff face,” Lupin scolded Warbs. The bird didn’t understand a word of pony, though he seemed to understand tones of voice. Mr. Warbs twitched his head at the sound, making his payload swing sluggishly, the sound of shifting cardboard and plastic rattled loudly in the dead morning air. He seemed to be paying attention.
“Huh... carrying too much to tell me you were coming?” Lupin put a hoof out to touch the bundle, and the bird beast set it down. “Something to carry it all in? Hey, that’s pretty clever buddy… did Twilight make you 30 times smaaaaaaaaa…” His words stalled as Warbs let the corners of the tarp fall open… to reveal the bundle had been full of boxes and to-go bags:
Lupin’s eyes rolled back involuntarily as the smells, previously faintly scented, assaulted his nostrils and drooling tongue all at once. The Syrup which he had smelled before was present in SPADES, with a whole bottle accompanying the dishes already smothered with the stuff. But also ketchup, sugar, blueberries, hollandaise sauce, and BREAD, oh the wonderful smells of various breads. He managed to force his eyes down to gaze upon his glorious breakfast.
Normally, Mr. Warbs would swipe several meals worth of food, and maybe some snacks… and the occasional raw ingredient, such as the time he stole a whole tube of frosting from Sugarcube corner.
But Warbs really overdid it this time: it was like he raided the whole kitchen at The Buttery Broad. In reality, the bird hawked over at least a dozen drive troughs this morning, swiping up bags like a cow-sized falcon, depositing them in an unattended cart from whence the tarp had come.
Among his ‘borrowed’ goods were biscuits, breakfast potatoes, crepes, doughnuts, fried hay-hash, what added up to almost a gallon of heavily creamed coffee in various cups, muffins, pancakes, pastries, Pranch toast, waffles, and... even various egg dishes that Warbs hopefully didn’t have existential questions about. It was more than he had ever brought in at once, even for dinner. And Lupin was still feeling a bit groggy after waking up.
Oh—Chick Fill-Hay? On a Sunday?” He exclaimed while looking in one of a dozen bags. “Where do you even find... you know what? I don’t care, it’s here now.” He took another long whiff of everything brought in at once. The smells ripped away any feelings of tiredness, and his worries about just how MUCH food was laid out on the tarp. A loud and demanding GRRROOOWWWLL made Mr. Warbs jump a little, ruffling his feathers and making way for a surge in his blubbery green chick’s appetite.
“Ooh... you’re such a good bird—yes you are!” He stuck his hoof out again to give loving scriches to Warb’s neck. The bird fluffed up his nape and closed his eyes to make sure Lupin’s “bingo wing” fat didn’t slap him there. For all intents and purposes, Lupin had a giant pet dog before him... only feathered, and it fed him instead.
He stopped scratching Warbs to pull the fallen chair back up to the window. He put his hooves on the backrest, his belly stuffed against the seat, and his ass hanging in the air. He stuck his head out of the window and let his mouth drop wide open.
“Ahhhh... Yuh huh,” he gestured to Warbs, signaling to him to start shoving the most important meal of the day in him.
With a chirp and a tail wag, Warbs started picking food from the bags with his bill. Getting the containers off of a lot of food was always an issue, but the bird was getting better at picking it apart. He expertly worked the cover off of a covered plastic tray from the HayBurger bag Lupin had been eyeing, and tore the top off. Warbs pecked at the tray, and grabbed the three whole stacks of pancakes to lead off what was bound to be a grand breakfast buffet.
Lupin’s mouth hanging open, Mr. Warbs had an easy time placing the pancakes in between the wide and hungry jaws of his eager green chick. Warbs felt relief as Lupin snapped up the pancakes, and chewed once, twice, gulp! Then opened his mouth again, eager for more.
That last batch of pancakes had been light and fluffy, still a little warm even, but Lupin wasn’t looking for light and fluffy. He inhaled the buttery discs of bread down his gullet, and they seemed to plop to the bottom of the empty cauldron that as his stomach. It gurgled pitifully, those sorry excuse for flapjacks had dented his appetite like tissues on a scale! He opened his jaws wide again, eager for more. Mr. Warbs cracked open the next plastic shell like a normal sized seabird would a mussel.
The next three platters went down just as effortlessly.
“OOmf… Mullp.. gulp!” He swallowed each one.
On the fourth platter Lupin’s hunger-addled mind picked up that the taste of pancakes had suddenly changed. Now instead of slightly soggy wafer-thin disks of cooked dough, the stack that plopped into his muzzle was thicker, fluffier, and even sweeter! He looked down as he chewed (needing a little more effort for this stack) and saw the bags Warbs was rifling through was from EHOP, Equestria House Of Pancakes. A PROPER pancake place!
Lupin’s eyes cast around; proper pancakes required proper toppings! Namely one that he thought he’d seen among the… There it was!
He tried to reach down out of the window, his hoof stretching down towards the glass bottle with the strange metal straw sticking out of it. His chair, tilted forward against the windowsill, and his belly pressing down on top of its back, creaked a little in protest.
Try as he might, Lupin’s hoof could only just clink against the smooth side of the glass surface his target from this range, and the jiggling of his bingo wings made precise control of his appendage a bit difficult…
A black beak clutching 3 more pancakes nudged the bottle closer to the window with its tip, and Lupin grasped the bottle with a grateful huff as he let the chair fall back, making a loud clunk and groan of wood and effort. “Thankshs Warbsh…” he managed through his mouthful of pancakes.
As he chewed and worked the bottle clumsily with his hooves, Mr. Warbs waited patiently. He didn’t try to shove the food down his big green chick’s throat as a normal bird would. He knew that this ‘little’ pony would eat everything that he brought him. Though he WAS concerned that his beak might accidentally saw through this particular batch of flapjacks… he had held them for almost a whole minute now, and he did so much enjoy the bread in them…
With a ‘pop!’ Lupin had wrestled the metal spout and cap off and could now let all of the jug’s contents flow into his lascivious lips. And into his chewed-up mouthful of pancakes flowed an amber-colored liquid gold: syrup!!
Uulp… uulp….uulp…
In a display of wanton gluttony, Lupin took three long, drawn out gulps before swallowing and licking his lips dramatically. The sweet sugary scent that had haunted him for 5 whole minutes without tasting it now fresh on his lips, he drank in the flavor, savoring a classic and full bodied Van Hoover maple syrup like a wine connoisseur. Delicious!
He opened his mouth once more and Warbs took this (correctly) as a sign to feed him the next batch.
With the remaining stacks, Mr. Warbs experimentally spent a little longer feeding his chunky chick, stuffing the pancakes down a little farther thank normal. This was not out of fear that Lupin wouldn’t eat them (That apprehension had long been quelled by the greasy green glutton’s enthusiasm) but instead so that Lupin could pour on a generous helping of syrup into what remained of the room in his mouth.
Aaaagh… mmmpff! Ulp!
Then the whole stack, coated at one end in syrup, would slide down into his gullet.
Lupin patted his belly and let out another satisfied belch. After finishing the last pancake platter, he had now eaten over 20 pancakes, and his tummy was barely any larger than when he had begun. He licked the syrup dripping into his beard, but stopped after any meaningful amount of sugary goop was left, leaving a sticky patch of sugar just under his lower lip.
For a normal pony, this was a gut-busting amount of food already, but for Lupin, this was just the start to a fine meal! He considered the syrup pitcher in his hoof… he had drunk half of it already… But he shook his head and set it on the nearby counter. He would have plenty of time to down the rest with an appropriate dish.
Mr. Warbs was now wrestling with a sizable plastic container. When it cracked a little there was a powerful whiff of onions and cheese, and Lupin licked his lips again. Despite the substantial load of bread it had ingested, his belly grumbled excitedly. Warbs eventually managed to squeeze the foam top off, breaking it in half and tossing it aside. What lay within was a truly beautiful sight.
A whole platter of golden-brown hay hash… but the dish in question contained more than just fried hay… Lupin recognized it from Café Hay, it had all of Lupin’s favorite toppings incorporated into it. Cheese, sour cream, onions, and cream of chicken soup (He liked to mix up dishes on occasion with whole soups as toppings). It was a Hay-hash casserole, and it was among the most bombastically cheesy and greasy things that they served there. He would often order extra cheese.
This one though seemed to be just a normal amount of cheese. Some ponies had no taste.
Warbs scooped up a potion of the cheesy, oniony abomination and poked it toward the waiting maw. When he crunched down on the perfectly fried millet, the gooey creamy soup burst forth, drowning the taste of the cheese with onion and softening the top crust. HE chewed the mouthful of hay meant to be a whole serving for a pony, swallowing thrice before he managed to get it down. He opened his mouth for another, and Warbs stuffed the next mouthful in. It was just as good, slightly bigger, necessitating 4 gulps. The mass of grease and hay slid laboriously down and plopped as it his the already digesting pancakes. As he rubbed his belly instinctively, he actually panted a little before the third and final load was shoveled into his mouth by Warbs’s helpful beak. This was the largest glob of greasy casserole goodness by far, and while he chewed, he considered an uncouth, wholly piggish idea.
He gathered himself up, scooching up a little straighter in his chair, causing it to creak loudly. He chewed extra hard, munching until the hay no longer crunched, and the goopy casserole was thoroughly mashed up. Even chewed up it filled his cheeks almost halfway, and he took one or two steadying breaths through his nose, and swallowed. The whole lot.
It was a struggle. The bulge in his throat almost equaled one of his chins as it slithered down his gullet. He labored harder than he usually worked at anything. There were many muscles the hefty stallion had allowed to go to seed, but the ones in his throat he had kept fitter than a butcher’s dog. He didn’t know what a butcher was, but he had heard they made great food in the Griffon Lands. He gulped again, straining, and the glob of food propelled itself satisfactorily into his belly.
GULLLP!
Lupin gasped. He had to stop for a huffing, gulping, puffing minute to catch his breath. He had nearly PASSED OUT there. Well, not really, but that was still a lot of effort for a sedentary pony like him. He let out a long and guttural ‘Buuuuuuurrrpp!’ He had swallowed a bit of air back there, and he didn’t want any hollow, unfilling air to get in the way of his breakfast.
Luckily, Warbs was ready with the next part of his meal, a stack of crispy, triangular pieces of bread that seemed to ooze butter as the big bird applied a bit of pressure. Prench toast! Well, Prance hadn’t really invented it, but that was besides the point, it was delicious!
Warbs stuffed the slices in, and lupin savored the eggy toast with a clear sheen of oil and butter still remaining on it. It crunched tenderly as the dusting of sugar on the top two slices of toast frosted his lips. Just before he was about to swallow, he hesitated. He had feeling… as if he’d forgotten something… By Celestia! That was it!
He rocked his ponderous frame to the side, and snagged the bottle of syrup back from the counter.
Glulk…glulk… glulk… GLULK~! Four gulps of syrup for these ones, and he allowed the toast to slide to it’s final resting place, a new dollop of syrup dabbing his chin, mixing with the sugar. But he didn’t care about that, the second he stopped gulping, he dropped his jaws open to receive the next batch. He scarfed down the next two orders, washing each down with the sugariest drink present. The Prench toast was only 3 orders in total, but Lupin appreciated the flavorfulness of them, and the strawberries that came with each weren’t bad either. He used them to scoop up the dribbles of syrup threatening once again to slide down into his beard, and popped each into his mouth, swallowing the golf ball sized fruits in one with barely any effort.
While he polished those off, Warbs was placing several select containers on the windowsill, doing his utmost not to spill them. From them wafted the scent of more cheese, and a wonderful smell of eggs! Lupin licked his hoof and leaned forward to examine the spread. All 4 plates contained a fairly plain servings of scrambled eggs, and Warbs seemed to realize he couldn’t efficiently pick up the goopy, cheesy eggs with his beak, so he was just stabilizing the leftmost plate with his beak, staring expectantly at Lupin.
He didn’t have to hold it for long!
Lupin piggishly leaned over the back of the chair, realizing belatedly that his tummy was starting to hinder his motion forward, he scooched the chair closer. Something cracked audibly, but Lupin didn’t care, he could still reach the next part of his breakfast. Despite the sheer QUANTATY of food he had eaten, his belly still burbled hungrily in anticipation, muffled by a mere four pounds of bread, hay and sugar.
Lupin craned his neck over to the first tray. The eggs were seasoned reasonably with salt and pepper, and there was enough here to supplement the Prench toast he’d just eaten, perhaps these were meant to accompany some of the bready dishes he’d already consumed? Whatever.
He dug his muzzle into the first tray, his teeth scraping up every last morsel that he could find with his tongue and using a hoof to shovel it into his mouth. Mr. Warbs only just managed to cling on to the other side of the tray, preventing it from flopping to the ground and wasting its contents. Lupin came up for air, taking a gulp of air through his nostrils, then gulping down the mouthful of eggs he’d brought up with him.
gulp!
They were so light and fluffy, they went down easily, and he wasted no time dipping his muzzle into the next tray. He scarfed it in three mouthfuls this time, swallowing quickly, and moving right immediately. Warbs reached the third tray only just in time, barely grabbing it in time to stop the impossibly hungry pony from barging it off the sill with his drooping chins. Down in two mouthfuls, he gulped both down furiously, before moving onto the final tray. He didn’t even care anymore, he seized the egg tray with his hooves, tilting the whole thing into his mouth. Warbs stepped respectfully back and watched in awe as Lupin tilted the plate to its final angle, pinching it between his hooves so that it created a smooth chute into his gaping maw. Without thinking, once he’d closed his mouth and threw the tray aside, he swallowed the whole platter in one big gulp.
ULP!
He patted his belly, noting that the hungry gurgles were faint now. Warbs was rifling through some bigger bags now, and Lupin heard metal clattering around. Warbs returned with a full tray of muffins in his beak! Had he raided Sugarcube Corner? Again? In any case, there were 2 kinds with 4 each on the tray, blueberry, and chocolate chip (Lupin liked both). Each one was as big in diameter as his chubby hoof, and each had a lovingly doughy tops caked with crystals of sugar. When he reached out to grab the first one from the windowsill, he found them deforming to his touch, they were moist and fresh, and Warbs was having trouble prying them out for him.
Lupin waved him back, and the massive bird took the hint and just retreated to its hoard. Lupin heard shuffling and the crinkle of paper and plastic. But that didn’t matter immediately. What mattered now was the choice of which kind of muffin he should have first? Blueberry? Or chocolate?
Blueberry? Or chocolate?
Blueberry…?
Ah, buck it…
He greedily shoved one of EACH kind of doughy muffin into his maw, using his hooves to squish the still slightly warm pastries together and squeeze them until they fit among his lips. It took only one or two smacking chews for him to swallow this payload of pastry. He licked his lips and the roof of his mouth… testing the tastes he had just hurriedly shoved into his mouth.
Blueberry, he decided, would be better on its own. The chocolate he’d have to have with something else…
He scarfed down the next blueberry muffin, and waved a hoof to grab Mr. Warbs’ attention, letting out a pathetic little ‘mph!’ to accentuate the gesture. Warbs turned to face him curiously.
Lupin then pointed vigorously at the small pile of thankfully unsplit drinks, causing his bingo wings to wobble in time with his insistence. Warbs tilted his head, then seemed to realize something before he hopped over to that part of his horde where the drinks were and hovered his beak uncertainly over one of the large lattes. Lupin nodded through a mouthful of the third blueberry muffin, and Warbs carefully enveloped the drink in his beak, careful not to crush the plastic cup as he had done with two others before he’d gotten the technique down.
As Lupin scarfed the final blueberry muffin down, the crumbs speckling his chins and now protruding belly, he eagerly gestured to a clean part of the sill. Warbs craned his neck around and deposited the venti sized cup full of sloshing coffee and far too much cream, topped with whipped cream next to the muffin tray. Somepony had good taste… or a cheat day.
He briefly considered the straw stuck fast in the whipped cream, but flicked it out onto the kitchen floor near his trash bin. He grabbed the drink and the first of the chocolate muffins. He tossed the bready treat into his mouth, then after a few chews, he placed his lips directly over the rounded plastic top of the cup and sucked through the large circular straw hole. Instantly his tongue was met by surprisingly cold whipped cream, and cool liquid following right after. With a contented gulp, both liquid and softened muffin flowed neatly into his stomach.
Slloorrulp!
He let the cup go just long enough to scrape another muffin from the tray, and the moment he’d stuffed it into his mouth, so too did his lips fasten around the cup. He only needed to chew twice this time before the slurry of coffee and doughy muffin was swirling down his throat. Now this was efficiency! He could use coffee to expedite eating! Why hadn’t he thought of this before!? The next two went down just as quickly, a chocolatey, creamy, coffee-saturated slurry that satisfied Lupin’s sugar craving (at the moment) and was a lovely desert to round off a wonderful breakfast.
Lupin glanced down at his gut… then took a little longer of a look…
The chair he had been sitting on creaked ominously as he leaned back to look. His already pudgy stomach had inflated prodigiously, and when he sunk a hoof into it, he could feel where his engorged stomach made up the bulk of the bulge pressing against the cabinets under the countertop. It was a bulge like a sloshy dodgeball, and jiggling his belly, Lupin found that though his brain was telling him he was ‘full’, he reflected that he had often disagreed with his brain on this point. If he weren’t an artist, Lupin might have been a competitive eater, but that title had the word competitive in it, which also implied work…
Either way, he figured he had a little room left in him, and perhaps he could somehow convince Warbs to halt his feeding at the point he felt REALLY full. Of course, communicating it to him would be challenging as he had never quite understood the word ‘stop’ in previous sessions.
He shrugged. He’d come to it when he came to it.
He looked up at the sill again, and jumped a little in surprise, sending his flanks jiggling and the chair groaning painfully. He could hear a bit of a splintering sound too. He discovered that the sill was full of foods, which Warbs was dutifully stuffing into the largish window. It seemed he had found a more efficient form of feeding than stuffing morsels in his chick’s mouth one by one…
Lupin sighed… he supposed he could have a few more bites…
There was quite a spread, and Lupin could have continued to tackle it dish by dish… but now that he had a bit more control, he figured now was the perfect opportunity to have a proper breakfast! (If you didn’t count the gurgling mass in his belly already.)
There were some bagels, muffins, hay-hash, and a tray with some eggs over-easy on them. Prying a two halves of one of the bready circles open, and used his already crumb covered and slightly sticky hoof to scrape out a roughly circular section of the Hay-hash on top of the bottom half, then reached over and slid an egg on top of that. Finally his breakfast sandwich was ready!
He took a big bite, the egg’s yolk bursting and soaking into the hash as he crunched happily at his creation. The sandwich was surprisingly robust, and as he crunched, he augmented his gulps with several swigs of coffee. The sandwich consumed, he scraped together another one.
There was enough material there for another 3 thick, hoof-sized sandwiches, and as Lupin built and scarfed down each one, he could feel his belly stretching comfortably as the liquid he consumed along with the family sized meal he was eating was pressed into place. He punctuated bites of his sandwich with a biscuit or two from another plastic bag. These had honey packets to go with them, and they were delightfully soft and fresh too! He started popping two of them at a time, sometimes forgetting the honey altogether, and the coffee kept things flowing nicely, he had drunk 4 of the venti-sized sugar bombs, and Warbs kept pushing another one up onto the crowded sill when he picked another up. How many were there even?
He felt a pocket of gas flow up to his chest, so he casually patted his stomach and opened his muzzle to let out a massive ‘BUUUUURRP’!
It caused the window to rattle a bit in its loose hinge, echoed out through the little thicket near his house and made Warbs jump a little. The first time Lupin had demonstrated what a chorus his gastrointestinal system could produce, he had scared poor oversized warbler half to death, and had required some soothing before he came closer again. Now, as the noise reverberated through the air, with his feathers being ruffled by the deep and powerful belch, Warbs just blinked his eyelids, and waited patiently for more space to appear on the sill, seeming to be pleased at how well his chick was getting on.
Some room sufficiently cleared in his stomach, Lupin turned to the final breakfast sandwich.
It held the final egg, the smallest of them, sadly, but it’s mass was more than made up for with the heaping helping of hay-hash heaped on top of it, piling everything left in the final tray in a triple-serving of hash that made the sandwich twice as thick as the others.
He took his time with this one, maneuvering it carefully into position in front of his muzzle as Warbs pushed the rubbish off of the sill to make way for the final portions of his sack to be unloaded. The hay-hash trays, bagel bag, and muffin tins fell to the floor with a clatter and a smattering of crumbs. Warbs pushed a wide pink box onto the sill, then stood back, satisfied his chick would have plenty to eat.
When Lupin stuffed the sandwich into his mouth, hash filled his muzzle, the egg barely perceptible amongst all of the fried hay.
CRRRRUUUNCH!
His biggest bite yet perhaps, he needed all of the power in his jaw to force down the torrent of hay. Despite getting a little cold, it was filling, and the hint of the grease they fried it with gave it a delightfully salty taste.
He took a big sip of coffee to steady himself before going back in. Instead of one big bite, he bit little mouthfuls of hay from around the edges, swallowing only after two or three of these little bites. He chased each of these groups of bites with a swig of sugary coffee. Bit by bit, the sandwich disappeared, Lupin’s throat muscles forcing it down to greet the burbling mass already contained within his stomach.
It was around this time that Lupin’s chair had enough. It had put in a full day’s work and then some, holding this fatass of a pony while he gorged his way through more breakfasts than some ponies had in two weeks. This was it; the chair was putting in its two weeks… that’s to say, it was collapsing right now.
The crack of wood under Lupin’s body was louder and more ominous than ever. Just like before, Lupin ignored it and licked the oil and egg yellow from his hooves. Unlike before though, a swooping thrill shot through his stomach. He fell bodily to the floor. The floorboards themselves threatening to give way as his flank spread wide as gravity tugged him down.
Crack… WHUMP!!
His bulk crashed to the linoleum floor, shuddering the window frame. A box of something tumbled to the floor after him, the chair seat splintered under him as well, which at the very least allowed his ass to lay flat on the floor, his back fat cushioning the blow and the pieces of the chair. His belly, quite full at this stage, still managed to jiggle a little bit as his fat sloshed around his full belly.
Lupin huffed, that had been quite the fall, he lay there a moment, panting. He tried to raise himself up to look to see what it was that fell, but he flopped back down, exhausted. His body was now quite a bit heavier than when he began the morning, his belly alone sticking out to the point where his hoof couldn’t quiiiite reach his belly button. He was never the most athletic pony, but his softness had served him well on the tumble down. He seemed to be okay
His ears perked up, it seemed that someone else was not okay! He heard deep and distressed chirping from outside the window. He raised hoof lazily.
“ ’salright buddy…! I’m fiiinne… Just a cheap chair, that’s…. UUrrrpp!... -all.” He rubbed his belly after that burp, contemplating what to do next. He didn’t think the Warbs could fit inside the window. This was evidenced moments later as a bright yellow and black head forced its way into the opening, and twisted its head to look down. He struggled for a moment, the window frame creaking and the sliding window itself rattling at his efforts.
“Hah…. Huff… H-hey bud… bud…? It’s ok! Really!” Lupin tried again, waving his flabby hooves to show he was alright. “I’m actually pretty… bbwwaarrp… full, so I think breakfast is pretty much over!” The clock on his wall ticked over to 8:00, and dinged cheerily to indicate the top of the hour. Lupin looked up from his position on the floor, straining to see past his belly. Had he really been gorging for almost an hour and a half straight? That was… pretty amazing actually.
He looked back again to see if Warbs was still there. But he seemed to have left.
Lupin laid his head back, hopefully Warbs had heard his feeble bleatings. He stared up at the ceiling, contemplating his astounding breakfast. He had eaten enough food to feed a dozen ponies, heck, close to 2 dozen! He had really outdone himself! He rubbed his stomach again and belched. Uuurrpp!
Then reality began to creep in, slowly and meticulously. How HAD Warbs gotten all that food? Had he stolen it out of ponies hooves? Had he raided the shops at spearpoint? Had he disguised himself as a griffon amputee? All these questions collided with the reality of his current predicament. He would have to clean up the smashed chair, he realized grudgingly, looking around at the splinters and shards of wood around him. He also realized that despite the enormous amount of food that he had eaten, there was still some left! There seemed to be some sort of pastries mixed in with the pieces of wood, a result of that box or whatever that had fallen. He would have to either put whatever stuff he needed to into the fridge, and the rest of what could be saved into his pantry. He groaned aloud, and on top of that, he still had a meeting to get to today!
All of that just sounded like a lot of work, and Lupin was getting tired just thinking about it. He had plenty of time, and he was perfectly okay with taking a nap to allow all of this to digest. He rolled over on his side to get a better position on the floor, and his belly plopped next to him like an eager puppy cuddling up for bedtime. He took one more look around the room, his eyes sweeping over to the windowsill to see precisely what it was that had fallen, in case he really needed to preserve it so that it wouldn’t rot and stink up the kitchen too much. What he saw was a skewed box of donuts, it’s lid half open as the box lay on its side, a small pile of donuts spilling out and onto the floor. The pile began with three or four donuts stuck in the entrance of the box, then two or three that had fallen out and away from the box may be a few inches, one or two donuts had skittered off to the sides, but one doughnut…
One doughnut had conveniently rolled itself right next to where he had fallen! It was a plain thing, just a regular glazed doughnut, and given how intact it was after rolling across his kitchen floor, Lupin guessed that it wasn’t exactly soft and fresh. Still, what could one more doughnut hurt? Lupin shifted himself a little and reached out a chubby hoof…
Lupin’s front door slammed violently as something crashed into it at full speed.
Lupin jumped, causing his body to jiggle a little bit, and looked up towards the doorway that led to his front hall. Through the doorframe of the kitchen and down the short hallway, he could see his front door, and the single small glass window with four panes in it that had cracked horribly.
Lupin groaned louder than ever, exasperated. Great. Now somepony had smashed into his front door, honestly, if it was that clumsy mailmare again, he might actually get very upset with the Ponyville post office, maybe even filing a complaint with them on his next visit to town.
Then there was another mighty crash, and the glass in the small window fell out completely.
”Hey! Thatsh my-UUUUuuurrrpp!-door! Whoever you are, cut it out!” He let out another massive belch in his exertions, his speech slightly slurred by his tiredness and his recent meal.
There was no reply, but another blow to the door, and this time the perpetrator smashed out the windows supports with a strangely feathery shovel… feathery shovel…? Oh no…
“Warbsh!! Mbuuuurrrpp -uddy!? SHTOP!!” He cried. It seemed to work, instead of another hefty blow, Mr. Warbs’s beady black eye shoved itself into the frame of the window.
“Hey! Itsh OK! I’m fiiiiinne! You can go away! Thannksh for breakfasht, bu- Uuuuuurrrp I’m done now! Ok? Done!” He waved his hooves back and forth in a shooing motion to punctuate his point.
The head retracted from the window, and there was a moment of silence. Had it…?
SMASH!!
Well… maybe he could tell the repair pony that it was a timberwolf who smashed down his door… or maybe that he fell into it…
Warbs’s beak had wrenched the planks of wood that made up the door apart, and his body had shoved the shattered pieces to the ground. He hopped through the house, his bulk smashing down picture frames and a lamp as he went.
Lupin’s eyes tracked the insistent giant bird until he loomed over him, staring down at him with baseball sized black beads. He raised his hooves defensively, but Warbs just hopped past him to the window, and Lupin could hear him shuffling through the boxes and bags he had stacked on the window.
Lupin sighed. It seemed that breakfast wasn’t over… He might as well not resist… not like he was in a position to do so. He looked forlornly at the doughnut that was just out of his reach. He stretched his leg eeextra far, and his hoof managed to bap it once or twice, and the doughnut flipped over, and he could grab it.
Warbs came back and poked his beak into his mouth, causing him to roll onto his back again in surprise and cry out before realizing the fluffy and thick waffle in his mouth was covered in syrup! He chewed contemplatively, and he began to forget about the doughnut for the moment as syrup dribbled over his muzzle and into his mouth as he swallowed, creating a sugary and sticky lip balm around his mouth. He smacked his lips in satisfaction, and his vision was obscured once again by the bird hopping back to his side…
The next flavor that assaulted his lips was that of strawberries as this next waffle that he was force-fed by the giant bird had been soaked in the same flavor syrup! At least it was a nice variety! The other two waffles that followed had a similar delightful pattern, another waffle had been coated in delicious chocolate, and the last one he couldn’t quite place with his mouth still absolutely chock full of delicious and doughy waffles, but when he finally managed to choke it down, he discovered that it was the unconventional boysenberry syrup! Wonderful!
He chewed slowly on these grids of sugary delight, and looked on to Warbs shuffling back into the pile of stuff he’d placed on the windowsill, then back to his own belly. It strained and gurgled, attempting to mount a larger protest as it became fuller and fuller. But the enormous bird was not done yet! There was still food, and so the bird had made the executive decision that breakfast was still ongoing…
Lupin reached up weakly to try to rub his belly, to give it some semblance of relief. It was perhaps the sizable layer of pudge that he had accumulated already throughout his life, but his hoof sank almost all the way in until it hit the straining, taught, and still desperately digesting belly. Then there was a little bit more give…
Warbs came back, this time with another Styrofoam tray. Using his dexterous beak, he broke open the clamshell of a package, and rapidly pecked at the contents within, he pulled out a yellowish and cheesy lump, the cheese having long ago hardened and become more brittle, but when he gently eased it into Lupin’s mouth, he understood what it was immediately. Omelets! These were simple affairs coated in salt-and-pepper, and despite them long ago being cold, and his belly having long ago begun protesting at his fullness, he couldn’t help but wonder how they would have tasted fresh…
After 3 WHOLE omelettes, Warbs was STILL darting back to the windowsill, and returned with several pastries, and enough Danish to choke a horse, or a pony in this case. As he began to stuff them into Lupin’s mouth, relentlessly packing into his cheeks more pastries for every one that he finished. His belly bowed outward… Becoming as around as the moon as every possible inch of his stomach was being stuffed, and his mouth was encrusted with the sugar, grease, and crumbs of a dozen breakfasts, far too many for one normal pony to eat!
The blur.. the frenzy of feeding… suddenly ceased…
Warbs had been stuffing a box of doughnuts into him… one stale and hardened glazed taurus after another. They must have been somepony’s daily business run, or perhaps they were an unsold box from the day before… he groaned, why did he want them.. why was he still eating them? Almost two dozen doughnuts now pressed in on his overfull and straining stomach… And the organ gurgled and burbled, and he winced as he tried to shift, and the stomach strained his side, then flopped heavily onto the ground, causing the floorboards to shudder with the sheer amount of food in him.
Warbs appeared over his head, his big brightly colored and curious face turning side to side to examine him with first one beady black eye, then the other. Lupin smiled weakly up at him, and couldn’t suppress a belch that erupted from him as he spoke. “Okayy… Y-you’re all done now UUuurrrrrrpppp right? Pleash tell me you’re done…”
Mr. Warbs stared blankly at him for a few moments more, seeming to consider the question, or how full his tubby little “chick” was. Lupin’s belly now stuck out like a veritable exercise ball, so full now that he was confident that even if he felt like standing up, he would be unable to, his hooves would be just barely rising off the ground, utterly helpless. Luckily, the massive warbler seemed to consider the job complete, and he hopped toward the kitchen door, then spread his large wings and flapped once to propel himself down the hall, jumping a few more times before he was outside the front door, and was gone from sight. In the silence that followed, the clock on his wall struck a forlorn 8 AM…
Lupin sighed, then flopped limply onto his side, his belly weighing him down and forcing him to splay his forehooves to his shoulder level, awkwardly splayed out like a goat playing dead on its side, but at least it was soft…
Then he spotted it.
He was looking blearily out into the dining room, which swam before his eyes with his painful fullness and exhaustion after the mornings gorging, when suddenly he spotted a bright patch that stood out starkly against the dark floor… The doughnut. The one that he had spotted earlier that was previously just out of reach. Warbs had knocked it aside before when he was trying to bring in the rest of the feast, but the departing flap of the oversized bird had blown it back, and it was now practically resting in front of his muzzle.
He groaned… Stuffed to the absolute brim with more breakfast than anypony, perhaps ever! He was so full… So why did he want it?
There was no Warbs to overpower and force him… he had no particular love for the stiff and slightly dusty ring of sugar… and he CERTAINLY wasn’t hungry… But if he merely finished this ONE last doughnut, if he just polished off this monster of a feast… he felt he would be… complete somehow… his loins stirred.
He took it gingerly into his hooves, trying not to brush the angry belly that was growling and groaning in protest, BEGGING him to stop, to allow it to rest. He pushed the doughnut in, the sugary glaze cracking and sticking to his lips… and he swallowed the first bite. It slithered down his throat, no longer a triumphant dash, but a trudging slog slowly sucking down the beleaguered and thoroughly abused throat. But when it finally glommed onto the enormous, impossible ball of what was mostly dough in his stomach the equally slow and burning pain as his belly stretched out ever so slightly sent a thrill through his body.
When he next felt his jaw chewing on the next quarter of the doughnut, he felt his cock brush up against his horrendously swollen belly, and the stretching and burning meeting the tingling and rubbing against his length. He grunted, and his hoof seemed to move on its own, shoving the rest of the doughnut into his mouth, the sugar and crumbs brushing against his lips. Some of the sugar and crumbs caked into his moustache and crumbled into his beard as he pushed the mass roughly into his mouth and down into his greedy gullet.
He swallowed, and he savored the burning and warmth as the realization set in. He had done it. He had finished the monumental breakfast brought to him by his large bird friend. How many courses had he eaten? How many POUNDS of food were now stuffed into his almost perfectly round gut? It gurgled and groaned, and his sugary frosting caked hoof pressed down on the field of belly that he could see in front of him, and rubbed in tiny little circles… he huffed, his breath becoming more like a moan as he tried to exhale slowly so as not to pain his belly anymore. Eventually, the kitchen grew darker, his eyelids weighing themselves down until they were shut, and he was lost in a warm and overstuffed paradise…
After what seemed like barely a moment, he started awake with a bleary eyes, raising his head up and squinted around the kitchen. At first, he thought that someone had thrown a blanket over his head, but as he weakly batted at his face, all he did was manage to brush his soft and pudgy cheek.
He groaned, not wasting the movement, and instead digging at his eyes to remove the crusted sleep from them. He stared blearily around his room, and attempted to recall why his bed was so hard and cold, or what time he had gone to bed last night…
It was only then that he realized that he was not, in fact, in his room, but instead lying on his prodigious side in the middle of the linoleum floor, Ed he groggily recalled the absolute ONSLAUGHT of feeding that he had been forced to endure by the massive warbler. He tried to roll over, but for some reason, found it to be more difficult than normal. It was normally difficult to get his rotund figure righted when he slept on his side, but as he struggled and grunted, he felt his belly yield, a soft padding dimpling and allowing him to push himself over onto one hoof. He felt how much more his body jiggled, how his bingo wings made a gentle slap against his chest, and when he finally managed to stand completely upright, he found his belly drooped considerably, almost brushing the floor, and he couldn’t help but notice how thick and jiggly his thighs and buttocks were as he took his first step, wheezing a little as his hoof thumped heavily against the floor, and he watched the jiggles and ripples of his foreleg with a hypnotized and slack-jawed look.
He staggered towards the kitchen counter, and leaned against it, panting as she waddled past the destroyed remnants of his breakfast pouring haphazardly from the sill of the window which was still open. He must’ve gained close to 40 pounds, he felt as though he was loaded down by two full saddlebags of heavy books, the weight distributed evenly all over his body. He figured that he must have eaten several thousand calories worth of food, but he didn’t think that he would get THIS fat!
The clock chimed, and his head snapped around, but he wasn’t quite facing the right direction, and had to slowly but surely maneuver his soft and gently wobbling body around so that he could face the opposite wall, taking careful steps as he did so. The clock was chiming for a while, so it was clearly later in the evening… He gasped. The clock showed 7 PM precisely, and his food coma haze began to clear as fear gripped his mind. He was supposed to meet his client in town at 8 o’clock. Normally, an hour’s travel to Ponyville would not be that much of an issue. He could make it in that time before all of this, although he would have had to fast waddle, and with all of this new weight…
He turned again, lumbering like an elephant as he slowly but surely pivoted around, his jiggly asscheeks sloshing back and forth like a glass of water taken for a bumpy car ride. He faced the door leading out of the kitchen and into the hallway of his simple one-story home, and his legs struggled somewhat as he loped slowly, putting all his effort into walking. The floorboards creaked a little more under him, and he could feel immediately as a trickle of sweat dribbled down his brow. When he finally got to the doorway, his shoulders passed through it fine, but he started to worry as he felt his flanks brush ever so gently against the doorframe like a pair of gropey hands sliding gently along his sides… right up until they grabbed a full handful of his asscheeks and held him fast, his cutie mark cut off halfway as his butt got stuck in the door.
He grunted a little as he jiggled to a halt. He craned his head around the gentle swell of his own cheeks to look at the door frame, and sighed dejectedly. He could see half of his cutie mark; just the pen nub and only a small tuft of the peacock feather quill that was supposed to be attached to it, and the rest was lost in the pinched mounds of his ass. He bowed his head and groaned, and reached his hoof forwards. He didn’t have time for this… he dragged himself forward, his hooves scraped loudly against the floorboards as he struggled and strained, and his back legs pushed and pushed, and he could feel his ass cheeks squeeze and squish together as he FORCED his way through the door. He popped free with a sudden lurch and fell forward with the momentum of his thrust, but scrambled to his hooves, wheezing and grumbling.
He lumbered down the hallway and looked around wildly, panting to catch his breath. He spotted his suit hanging next to the door on the normally disused hat rack that came with the house. He wiped a trickle of sweat off of his brow from the short journey and grabbed at the suit coat. A few more huffing and puffing moments later, and he finally managed to get the first forehoof into the sleeve. There was an immediate problem, as he noticed the sleeve, which had been tailored for him last week in anticipation of this meeting, was especially snug, and by the time he managed to squeeze the tip of his hoof past the sleeve, he felt like his arm was being squeezed tightly, restricting his movement somewhat as he desperately tried to stick his hoof in the other sleeve. After another 5 or so minutes of struggling, he managed to squeeze his foreleg through the second sleeve, and he immediately dropped down and stood on them, panting and gasping, needing to catch his breath. Then came the supreme challenge of the suit… buttoning it.
His barrel had clearly become a bit saggier after his herculean feast. As he brought the flaps of his jacket together, the buttons were clearly almost 3 inches apart. He growled and strained, his forehooves shuddering and straining as he struggled and grunted. His chest squished out in between the lapels of his jacket, and his belly drooped out from the hem. With one final burst of effort, the button closed, and he dropped his forelegs to the floor, gasping and panting. It took him a few more minutes of huffing and puffing while he caught his breath before she looked down at his chest and the SINGLE straining button.
Deciding that would have to do for now, he turned his attention to the door, still breathing hard from the effort, and waddled towards the broken and shattered mass of wood where Warbs had broken in. he kicked aside the splinters of wood, and consulted the broken lower half of the door, the only part that remained after Warbs had smashed clean through the upper half. It hung on by barely a hinge, tilted at an odd and unnatural angle. He placed one hoof on it experimentally and tried to swing it open, only for it to scrape a little bit on the floor before halting entirely. He gritted his teeth and placed the other hoof on top of it, pushing it down and out of his way. It made a satisfying crunch when he stepped on it with just half of his weight, shattering the solid metal hinge in an instant, and causing his entire body to jiggle as he crashed down to the floor. He chuckled to himself all the way out of the door… Right up until he got stuck again…
He let out an agonized groan… He had MAYBE 40 minutes to get to Ponyville, and it would take almost that long even at his fastest waddling speed, how was he ever going to get to his meeting if he couldn’t get out of a stupid…
CRASH!!!
He jumped at the sudden noise as something large and flat crashed down in front of him and his heart jumped into his throat. He jiggled in the doorway, and jostled himself just enough to once again fall flat on his chest as momentum and surprise drove him to the ground like he was seeking cover. When he finally righted himself his surprise had coalesced into annoyance, and he pulled his muzzle out of the dirt path leading up to his house and looked to see what had crashed down so suddenly in front of him. When he looked up, he was greeted with a mass of black, white, and yellow, and a pair of black, beady eyes twitching back and forth to look at him.
“Warbs… buddy! What’re you uhhh… what’re you doing?” He craned his neck over to the side to look at the thing on the ground behind the giant bird. It turned out to be a mostly flat wooden thing, with a curve on one hand. When he squinted, he finally made out what it was. A wooden toboggan… In spring?
“Where’d you uhhh… get that buddy?” He asked hesitantly. Warbs began to hop over to the sled, and grabbed the rope in front of it with his beak. He jerked his head once, flipping it back over, and dragged it along the rocky dirt until it was right in front of Lupin. Wherever he had gotten it, Lupin had just been handed a golden chariot upon which to ride into town. He dusted himself off, managing to get most of the pebbles and dust off of the front of his jacket, and he ambled onto the large plank of wood, which creaked under his sizable weight. He placed his hooves on the swooping bow of the comical recreation of a ship, and looked out on the horizon as the sun began to dip low.
“Alright buddy! Mush!” He declared triumphantly, pointing his hoof forward towards the town in the distance.
Warbs, rope in beak, leapt into the air and spread his glorious wings, easily 30 feet across and flapping madly. Lupin’s face rippled slightly and his hair blue in the incredible breeze his friend was blowing into his face. He closed his eyes and reveled in the wind, holding onto the front of the sled and smiling happily. He imagined flying through the air in a pegasus-driven carriage such as those the Canterlot elite used to fly across the country, soaring through the sky with the protection and escort of the Canterlot Royal guard, and arriving in style wherever they went! What an impression this would make on his client! Sure, it wasn’t a golden wheeled chariot, but who in Ponyville had their own ride? Even the Apple family, famous as they were, had to draw their own carts!
The sled scraped once as he lurched forward almost 4 inches before stopping again.
Lupin opened his eyes, and looked down to find himself in the exact same place where he had started, but with Warbler still flapping away vigorously. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he stuck out a rear leg and pushed it gently along the ground to aid his friend, and the toboggan lurched forward yet again, scraping and crunching on the dirt path a little further this time. With their combined efforts, Lupin and Mr. Warbs lurched, scraped, and trundled down the road at a fair clip, and disappeared into the distance.
The ruddy brown stallion looked up at the clock outside the fancy restaurant and then looked both ways up and down the streets of Ponyville before sighing to himself and dipping his head low. The artist he had hired was meant to be there almost 15 minutes ago, but it seemed that perhaps his congratulatory dinner for the completion of the project was going to be missed. Admittedly Spearhead, former member of the Royal guard turned artist and art admirer hadn’t been able to pay an enormous sum for the work, but he had used a fair bit of his disposable income, hoped to make it up to Lupin with a hearty dinner, as he had been told that the sizable green earth pony liked to eat! He adjusted his patterned red scarf worn over his snug button up shirt subconsciously as he looked at the restaurant host with a nervous grin, knowing he was in danger of losing his reservation if somepony else came to ask for a seat.
“Heheh… maybe he got held up in traffic?” He joked to the stallion in the perfectly prim and trim pinstripe suit manning the podium in front of the restaurant.
The stallion took a cursory look up and down the nearly empty streets and raised a perfectly quaffed eyebrow towards Spearhead. “Well, it's hardly Canterlot traffic sir… but I’m afraid late is late, I will have to attend to other guests if they should ask for a trot-in…” he said dryly.
Spearhead nodded in agreement, trying to play it off. “Yeah… totally. I get ya.”
The host returned to fiddling with the menus in front of him, seemingly trying to perfectly align their edges for the umpteenth time.
Spearhead’s wings were starting to droop a little when he heard the noise echoing through the streets. He tilted his head up and looked all around for the source of the sound, and eventually focusing on the south and of the street. He picked up his ears, and as the sound approached he could discern the sources of the racket. A clattering, scraping, and… flapping..? sort of noise. But what concerned him most was not the eclectic collection of onomatopoeia, but the final part of the ruckus that became more pronounced as a wild shape spread around the corner, feathers and dirt flying everywhere. Screaming.
Lupin clung to the toboggan for dear life as Mr. Warbs began to tear through the streets as fast as a runaway wagon wheel. Once they had managed to pick up speed, the flat bottom of the toboggan had finally started to smooth out, and friction became less and less important as the oversized warbler was able to build up momentum TO OVERCOME IT. What this resulted in was the sled growing more and more out of control as they made their way into town. Now he was hurtling down the street, and he spotted his client and the restaurant brushing up to meet him as he tore down the street. He leapt forward, grabbing the rope that had miraculously not snapped away from the toboggan’s bow.
“WARBS. S-STOP! STOOOOP!!” He yelled, dragging back on the rope like reins, trying not to hurt the giant bird, but perhaps tugging a little too hard in his fright. Warbs squawked, and he instinctually snapped his head down, dropping the rope and flying up and away before he could be crushed by the oncoming toboggan. However, this left Lupin sliding and bouncing along the main street, hurtling past the restaurant and without even a pilot to guide him. He stuck out his hoof experimentally, and with a careful application of his jiggling weight, he wobbled until his back leg began to dig into the ground with a long and drawn-out crunch. He left a deep trail in the dirt as his weight and the added friction of his hoof rapidly slowed the toboggan, bringing it to a screeching halt a few blocks away down the road.
Spearhead watched in open mouthed amazement as the events unfolded, and he stared off into the dust cloud that Lupin had disappeared into as he sailed straight past the restaurant. Moments later, he heard a wheezing and grunting as a figure approached from out of the dust cloud, lumbering and swaying slightly. Lupin waddled out of the dispersing cloud, his suit disheveled and sweaty from his efforts and his frightening journey. He adjusted the neck of his suit, and felt an extra chin beginning to squish prominently out when the neckline snapped back.
He finally approached spearhead, panting from the effort of carrying his body and recovering from the adrenaline rushing through him. “Huff… huff… whew… hah… h-hey Spearhead… huff… sorry I’m… urrrp… late…” He apologized, panting and wiping off a trickle of sweat from his brow.
“Oh hey Lupin… hah ha~! No worries!! I think we still have our reservation! Right buddy?” Spearhead flashed a winning smile over at the host.
The other stallion rolled his eyes, but opted to say nothing, and nodded in response.
“See!? I’m glad you made it dude! You hungry there?” He playfully bumped Lupin’s chest with the back of his hoof, causing it to jiggle and the button holding on desperately to sway and strain.
Lupin felt up his sagging belly as he tried to stuff a few more inches of his protruding flab back into the hem of the jacket so it didn’t flop out as much, and was going to mention something to the effect of having already eaten. But as he did so, a roiling gurgle rumbled through his gut, and the vibrations seemed to change the words in his throat as he spoke them.
“Wellll… yeeeahhh… I’m pretty hungry actually… thanks for the dinner Spearhead!”
Spearhead grinned and through one leg over Lupin’s shoulder with some difficulty despite being quite a burly pony “No problem my man, anything you want tonight, totally on me… WAITER~! I think I have a reservation!?”
The host sighed, and nodded, sliding off his stool and grabbing some menus with his magic.
“Right this way sirs…” He said, holding open the door.
Lupin and Spearhead trotted in, and the former royal guard passing in first, nodding in thanks to the host pony as he passed.
Lupin aimed to follow, but was suddenly halted when his flank was pinched yet again, jarring him and forcing him to stop.
“Unf! Uuumm… can I get a little help?” Lupin asked sheepishly, his wide flank taking up the entire half of the double doors.
