The waiter looked over his shoulder worriedly as he stepped back into the kitchen. The rest of the kitchen staff craned their necks to see out of the door before it closed, all looking for a glimpse at the mysterious mare sitting by herself. She’d arrived shortly before the restaurant opened for dinner, and so far had ordered nearly three quarters of the Grand Seashell’s menu. While the fancy restaurants in Canterlot were no strangers to big eaters, there had been an alarming number cases recently of a pony ordering exorbitant amounts of food and skipping out on the check. One or two ‘dine and dashers’, as they were referred to, popped up here and there, with some pony’s stomachs being bigger than their wallets, but they were typically caught, or returned the next day with a guilty conscience spoiling their appetite, eager to repay their debt. These new cases seemed of a more ill intention, however, as the dasher seemed to revel in how much food they were having before dipping out before the check could even be brought to the table. Worse, it seemed to be an entire group, as the descriptions of the dashers changed by the restaurant. Staff had all been reminded to keep a close eye on anyone ordering more than two meals, and to make sure nopony left without paying.
The mare felt the dozen pairs of eyes on her from the kitchen and smiled through her crab salad. She knew they were watching, and she knew that it wouldn’t matter how many ponies tried to keep an eye on her. At the end of the night, she would be sauntering in the warm summer dark with a full and happy belly. She tried not to snicker into her food too loudly as she finished, her plates stacked high around her. A gentle burp escaped her lips, hidden behind her hoof, and she let out a murmured “excuse me”. Her other hoof rubbed her stuffed belly, and she debated ordering more, but decided against it. Her escape plan relied on her being able to move, after all. She yawned, knocking her hoofbag to the ground, and leaned over to pick it up. A sudden, loud shhrrrip! made the mare freeze in place. Her face flooded red, and she plopped her hoofbag on the table before hurriedly scurrying to the bathroom. To any outside observer, the mare had simply had one bite too many for her dress to bear, and that’s exactly what she wanted everypony to think. She giggled quietly as she entered the stall, and her horn reappeared, hidden by both her mane, and a subtle vanishing spell she conjured up years before.
Minty Moonshine allowed herself another quiet laugh as she slipped out of her disguise. She was born to be a conmare, following in her father’s hoofsteps at an early age when she gained her cutie mark, five aces with a turquoise swirl underneath, by swindling some classmates out of their allowances. That mark was hidden now, both by the long, cream dress she wore, but also by some carefully applied paint, just in case. Minty, after opening one of the hidden pouches on her foreleg, quickly shucked the dress, noting with some disappointment that the dye she’d used on her coat had started to rub off, especially where her newly-gravid belly had pressed hard against the dress. She made a mental note to adjust how she applied it in the future as she scrubbed the makeup off her face with a wet wipe, using her magic to help get most of the pink dye out of her dark blue coat, leaving her with a pleasing purple. Her mane was next, and she straightened the curls and coifs, and removed the extensions. The dye on her mane’s stripes would remain, for now, but she added a little bit of grey to it to get the colour variation she wanted. She crammed her old dress into the toilet, and with her hooves and magic, managed to make it flush down before pulling out another, different dress from a bag tied snug around her chest. A pair of fake glasses sat perched on her muzzle as she stepped out of the stall, admiring her transformation in the mirror. What had once been a rich, beautiful mare was now an old, frumpy one. Minty made sure to add a slight limp to her walk, and made her way out. Nopony even looked at her twice as she exited, smack dab in the middle of a large group entering. She kicked her heels up once she turned the corner, and walked at a moderately fast pace back to where she’d parked her wagon. It was cramped, it was dingy, it leaked when it rained, but it was home. Minty hopped inside, shedding yet another dress, and flopped onto her bed, allowing the euphoria of yet another successful heist to wash over her. She squeezed her bloated belly, finally relaxing her stomach muscles and letting it swell outwards. She kneaded her much rounder belly as it blocked her view of most of her wagon, cooing as she squeezed and sloshed it. The only thing better than a good con, she always thought, was being stuffed to the brim with delicious, ‘free’ food.
“It should be illegal to feel like this.” She sighed, then giggled. “O-UUUUUUURP!-h wait, it is!” She reached down and patted her pudgy flank. “Should slow down a bit, though, otherwise my ‘dine and dash’ might become a ‘dine and waddle’.” From her tone of voice, it didn’t sound as if that would be a bad thing.
Back at the Seashell, a waiter finally worked up the courage to investigate the bathroom, only to find an overflowing toilet and no sign of the mare. She raised the alarm, and staff spread out throughout the restaurant, only to find no trace. The restaurant’s owner, a younger stallion named Salty Springer, opened up the hoofbag left behind, only to find a mocking note: Thanks for the free meal! Salty bowed his head.
“Call the Don.” He said to his head waiter. “We need to have a meeting.”
~~~~~ *** ~~~~~
The Canterlot High Dining Society convened in the oldest restaurant in the city, simply named ‘Don’s’. It was owned and ran by ‘Don’ Risotto, a Bitalian immigrant whose family practically ran the entire restaurant business in the north of Bitaly. He was the unquestioned leader of the Society, and while the other owners may bicker and argue, it was his word that held absolute power. Tonight, the Don sat with his elbows on the table, hooves pressed together, his black mane slicked back, hints of silver creeping in at his temples, listening to the other owners rant and rave, separated into two groups.
“It’s a bunch of thrill seekers!” Sparkling Brandy shouted, her white mane quivering with indignant rage. Her restaurants had been hit the most, almost twice for each of the four locations, and she was out for blood. “We must get the guards to screen guests!” A dour stallion shook his head.
“The modus-operandi has remained unchanged throughout, and the mouthwriting on the notes is too similar for it to be separate ponies.” Pepper Barley tossed two plastic bags on the table, the two notes he received inside. “We’ve had groups before, but they were never this coordinated. This is the act of a single pony.” Salty nodded in agreement, laying his note on the table beside Pepper’s. The argument died as the Don stirred, his bristly black moustache hiding his grimace. He motioned for the notes to be passed to them, and studied them closely. Silence reigned for several moments before he finally stood, his tailored suit crisp and tidy.
“I’ve seen this writing before.” His voice was soft and low, flavoured with a Bitalian accent despite his many years in Canterlot. “My father, Celestia rest his soul, had to deal with a dine and dasher, back when he was the owner. It was a team back then, two mares, and they worked the same way. Disguises, distractions, the whole nine hoofs.” He sighed. “They stopped, one day. He never caught them. For his sake, and ours, we cannot let them continue this.” He walked over to the big window, looking out at the full moon that hung low over the castle on the mountain. “We need her help.” The room went even more silent, as everypony held their breaths. They knew who she was.
“B-but Don, isn’t that a little overkill?” Somepony asked nervously. The Don turned slowly, the moon at his back casting his eyes into dark, black pits.
“Yes.”
~~~~~ *** ~~~~~
The cottage where she resided was located deep in the White Tail Woods, along a winding dirt path in the brush. The Don, and a few other of the more wealthy restaurant owners, as well as the Don’s personal escort team, four tall, solid ponies in black suits and sunglasses, even in the darkening evening gloom. Everypony was nervous, not just due to the darkness. There were stories told about this cottage, and the mare who resided in it, stories not for the faint of heart, or those who kept a close eye on their waistline. Ponies disappeared in these trees, never to be seen thin again. The Don’s face was unreadable as the cottage came into view, the windows casting a hazy orange light into the leaves around it, a strange, green glow pulsating from one of the downstairs windows. The Don walked confidently up to the door, his guard clustered around him. His knock echoed in the stillness, knock, knock, kn-
The door flew open, and the group was greeted by a plump, dark-coated unicorn, whose pointed witch’s hat sat at a jaunty angle atop of her flowing purple mane. Her face broke into a smile as she saw who was at her doorstep.
“Creamy Risotto! I’m so glad you finally accepted my offer for dinner!” She looked behind him at the rest of the shocked group. “And you brought friends! The more the merrier!” To the continued surprise of everypony, the Don - Creamy - stuttered.
“Ah, we’ve just eaten. I’ve come, we’ve come, to ask a favour of you, Ms. Spellbound. We’re in a spot of trouble in Canterlot.” Spellbound’s eyes widened, as did her smile.
“A favour for the great Don himself?” She waved them inside. “Now you have me curious!” The group filed nervously into the cottage, finding themselves inside a surprisingly spacious living room. Shelves packed with jars and ingredients lined the walls, and a large, comfy looking, if oddly shaped, green bean bag chair sat in front of the fireplace. Spellbound inspected each of the ponies as they walked through the doors, her blue eyes searching inquisitively, settling on one of the Don’s guards, a mare a touch shorter and a touch wider than the rest. Her tail flicked happily as she shut the door. “Are you sure nopony wants anything? I just made fresh pie!” As if on cue, the cottage smelled of delicious apple pie. To the horror of everypony except the Don, the beanbag chair stirred, and they all realised that it was actually a pony, fattened to the point of immobility, legs and hooves disappearing under what had to be hundreds of pounds of fat. A pair of pies floated from another room, held aloft by Spellbound’s purple magic. One floated over to the bean bag pony, who greedily began to eat straight from the pie tin. The other pie floated between the ponies, the smell making their mouths water in spite of themselves. “There’s always room for pie.” She said as the pie made it to the guard she eyed before, who steeled herself as the pie parked itself in front of her muzzle. It floated closer, and closer, and with a strange sound in her throat, the mare shoved her face into it, gulping and smacking shamelessly as she gorged on the treat. Spellbound’s smile never wavered, even as she gestured for the Don to follow her into the kitchen, which, true to the witch’s word, was full of steaming pies. The Don’s face was still unreadable, but he radiated discomfort as the witch stoked the fire under her cauldron, which glowed an even brighter green. The sound of his guard licking the pie tin clean was audible even over the roaring fire. “So, Creamy, what sort of disaster has brought you finally to my door?” Spellbound asked, tossing ingredients into the cauldron, which bubbled and fizzed, changing hue from green to a deep violet.
“There’s a dine and dasher, or two, or a team. We don’t know for sure, and they’ve been making a mockery of us.” Spellbound nodded for him to continue. The Don reached into his suit and retrieved the stack of notes collected by all the restaurants. “These are all we have to go on.” Spellbound floated the notes out of his hoof, carefully shuffling through each one before dumping them in the cauldron. Violet fire erupted from where they touched whatever concoction was inside, and while she stirred, another pair of pies took off from the pile. The Don winced slightly when he heard the pop of a splitting seam from the other room. Spellbound’s horn glowed, and she poured another vial of something into the cauldron, which hissed and spat and turned an even darker purple. Her own eyes glowed purple as she rested her hooves on the lip of the cauldron as she began to chant.
“Magic cauldron, purple and rich
Grant me the vision that I wish
Show me the mare who dines on sweets
The one who dares not pay for her eats.”
The cauldron rumbled, and the dark violet receded to the edges. The Don bit back a gasp as an image swam to the forefront of the liquid, of a dark blue mare asleep in her bed, her belly rising round and full with each breath. Spellbound smiled wide, a plan beginning to brew in her mind as she tapped the cauldron with her stirring staff, and a single sheet of paper emerged, emblazoned with the name ‘Minty Moonshine’. She gave it to the Don and smiled as a loud gurgle seemed to make the entire cottage shake on its foundations. More pies flew from the pile as Spellbound giggled.
“Sounds like somepony was very hungry for pie.” Her giggles faded as she looked at the Don, who’s face had reverted back to his usual stoicism as he stared at the name on the paper.
“Thank you, Ms. Spellbound.” He said, voice steady. There was a sudden loud snap from the other room, followed by the slamming of the cottage door opening and the pounding of hooves scrambling out the door in panic. The cottage door bounced back shut with a dull thud. The Don looked Spellbound square in the eye, his own eyes silvery pits of ice that betrayed no emotion. “I have a lot that’s supposed to be cleared for a new restaurant. It’s right in the centre of the district. There’s no buildings there, but if what I’ve heard about you and this cottage is true, that should be no issue.” He paused, then held out his hoof. “If and when you need to call in your favour, you know where to find me.”
Spellbound shook it, and stepped aside to let the Don out of the kitchen. He was so distracted he didn’t even look at his former guardpony, who’s belly now reached the floor, and was still growing as she took bite after bite of pie, her uniform in tatters on and around her. Spellbound closed the door behind the Don, eyes flitting around her cottage, a smile wide on her lips.
This was going to be fun.
~~~~~ *** ~~~~~
Minty awoke the next morning to the grumbles of her belly. She let out a groan, and heaved herself out of her little bed, the wagon rocking on its old, worn springs as she stood. As she busied herself with making her morning coffee, she took a glance at the full length mirror set up on the opposite end of the wagon. Minty wasn’t a bad looking mare, and the new pudge she’d been adding on the past few weeks had only made her opinion of herself even higher. She did a slow turn, admiring her soft, wide rump, her cutie mark stretched from the new pudge. Minty giggled as she watched her belly wobble down by her knees, and flashing herself a smile, her new, deeper dimples making her look fabulous. Her belly grumbled again, and she put her little show to herself on hold as she gulped coffee, needing to be sharp to get her breakfast. She dug through the large trunk that was her wardrobe, finding the outfit she needed; a waiter uniform from Cora’s Brekkie Palace, which was just a long-sleeved white shirt with a black and gold vest. She let it drape over the bed, mentally applauding her old partner yet again for the idea to get disguises from the drycleaners. She missed the tall, clumsy mare, but she had something no good conpony could have: a guilty conscience. Minty got dressed quickly, finding the uniform was a touch too tight to be decent, but it didn’t matter. Cora’s had such a high turnover of staff, she wouldn’t be noticed much if at all. She didn’t even bother with dyeing her coat or mane much at all, instead just styling and hiding her horn with her usual spell. She sauntered down to the restaurant, which was already buzzing with customers, and slipped into the kitchen, pretending to help clean the dishes while she waited for a particularly scrumptious plate to pass by behind her. It didn’t take too long before a plate loaded with waffles and some of Cora’s specialty eggs and haybacon. Minty discreetly snagged the plate, and carried it out of the kitchen, pretending to look for the table it belonged to, before going to the outdoor tables and simply walking away. She sat down on a bench, ignoring its loud creak of protest, and started munching. As she polished off the plate, a restaurant caught her eye, one she was sure wasn’t there the night before, because she’d cut through that lot last night. It looked out of place surrounded by the other, fancy-built restaurants, having the appearance of a simple cottage, with a big hoof-painted sign placed on an awning that looked just a bit out of touch with the rest of the building. The sign read Spellbound’s Sweet Shack, and while the name rang a bell somewhere inside her subconscious, it was immediately overridden by a delicious scent of baked goods wafting from the restaurant, and despite the fact that she’d just eaten (and Cora’s was known for having very large portion sizes) her belly rumbled as if it hadn’t been fed in weeks. Minty hopped to her hooves, stifling a belch as she walked up to the front door. There was a ‘closed’ sign over the window, and Minty peered past it. There were a few tables and chairs near the centre of the room, spaced out wide. There weren’t that many, even compared to the smaller restaurants. Minty had a strange feeling wash over her, as it seemed the interior was larger than the exterior. Before she could ponder that thought any further, her belly let out yet another loud, angry growl, and an aching hunger washed any other thoughts away.
Despite the ‘closed’ sign, Minty tried the door, finding it open, and walked inside, the bell above the door chiming sweetly. The delicious smell grew only stronger, and she nearly doubled over in pain from her stomach’s renewed complaints. A pony came walking out of what looked to be the kitchen and smiled, her purple mane tied up in a bun under what looked to be a witch’s hat, an apron covered in flecks of dough.
“Hello! Have a seat, I’ll be with you in just a moment!” Minty needed no more encouragement, and sat heavily, one foreleg wrapped around her barrel, trying to alleviate some of the hunger. True to her word, the other mare returned not even a minute later, with a large menu, as long as Minty’s foreleg, and three times as wide. Minty desperately took the menu with her magic, her horn reappearing as it glowed. Spellbound’s smile changed slightly, as she now had the positive confirmation she needed. Minty was too busy scanning the menu, her mouth watering more and more with each item she looked at, indecision driving her insane. Before she could finish reading the entire menu, it was whisked away. The mare’s horn glowed purple, and a pair of plates came floating out of the kitchen, steam rising off them. “Hungry, are we?” The mare that must be Spellbound said, her smile wide and sweet, a gleam in her blue eyes that would’ve made Minty feel worried, if she wasn’t too busy staring intently at the approaching plates. “Don’t worry, there’s a special on today, just for you. All you can eat!”
The plates landed on the table with a quiet clink, and Minty stared at them, a thin line of drool running from the corner of her mouth at the heaping mounds of chocolate chip cookies, her absolute favourite. She grabbed a cookie off the plate, and took a bite. It was perfect, the dough fresh and warm, soft and gooey, with more chocolate in one than what most ponies ate in a week. Before Spellbound could blink, the cookie vanished, and Minty grabbed more off the plate, cramming them into her mouth, her horn glowing as she caught any wayward crumbs and pushed them into her mouth, not intending to waste even the smallest piece. Chocolate smeared across her cheeks as she ate, and ate, and ate, the cookies disappearing at an astounding rate. Minty’s belly rumbled loud enough to rattle the forgotten silverware as she licked the plates clean, and she looked at Spellbound pleadingly, and the witch’s horn glowed without another word. The empty plates flew back into the kitchen, replaced with a platter of cupcakes towered high, as well as more cookies. Minty tucked in with gusto, not bothering even taking the wrappers off the cupcakes as she shovelled them down, her mouth never empty as she crammed cookie after cupcake after cookie into her face. Too soon, all that was left of the cupcakes was merely a smear of icing on her muzzle. The platter was sent back to the kitchen, and replaced with a two-layer chocolate and vanilla cake, smothered in hot fudge and ice cream. Minty used her horn and forelegs to pull legfuls of cake towards her, methodically gulping it all down, her eyes rolled back in her head at the taste and texture of it all, delicious and creamy, not noticing her pudgy belly beginning to swell, slowly pulling the buttons on her stolen uniform further and further apart with each bite. All Minty cared about was the next mouthful, the next bite, the next sweet thing she could gulp down. Spellbound watched happily as the greedy unicorn before her began to plumpen and grow, her flanks already swallowing the reinforced chair she sat on. Her forelegs softened, the gentle pops of the seams of the uniform sleeves inaudible under the slurps and gulps of Minty. Even her back seemed to get fatter, the uniform’s fabric pulling taut against new rolls. Oblivious to her outfit’s growing tightness, and the creeping tendrils of fullness that started to coil around her increasingly full stomach, Minty kept eating, her hunger a yawning chasm she was desperate to fill, and with bite she grew fatter, and fatter, and fatter.
Spellbound’s smile grew along with the gorging unicorn as an endless procession of treats and sweets came floating from the kitchen, disappearing just as fast as they appeared. Pies, yet more cookies, whole cakes, trays of fudge, and rows upon rows of donuts, all were eviscerated by Minty’s teeth, and swallowed. The mare was becoming quite a mess, her bloated forelegs and straining uniform smeared with chocolate and icing and who knows what else, her muzzle stained as well. Minty leaned forward onto the table, scarfing down brownies in stacks of three, when her shirt’s buttons finally gave up. With a loud snap! that caused her new, blubbery belly to wobble like a water balloon, the first button failed, getting sent flying to Celestia-knows-where. Minty’s gut surged forwards, demolishing the rest of the buttons in a cascade of flab that pulled the unicorn off her chair with a crashing, sloshing thud! Minty belched loudly, and then blinked. The feel of the cold wood floor against her stomach cleared her chocolate-induced haze enough for her to realise she was in deep trouble. She’d seen the prices on that menu, and even though she had a decent stack Bits left from her last big con job, it wasn’t nearly enough to even half of what she’d stuffed inside herself. Her eyes flicked to the door, and she braced herself to stand for a lightning dash to the door, but she suddenly realised she was standing. She glanced down and her ears went flat against her head. Her belly pooched out in front and beside her, a massive, gurgling ball of pudge and fattening treats, pressing firmly against the ground even when she tried to heave herself up onto her tiphooves. With a small, muted squeak of alarm, the blubbery mare attempted to drag herself towards the door, managing only a extremely slow and ponderous shuffle that quickly left her sweaty and exhausted.
“Leaving so soon? There’s so much more for you to have!” Spellbound said innocently, her horn levitating a large, pink cake the size of Minty’s head out of the kitchen, without a plate.
“I, I don’t have the Bits to pay!” She practically wailed. Spellbound tutted, shaking her head.
“So that’s why you left all those restaurants without paying. Oh, you poor thing.” The cake split into eight slices behind Spellbound, the chocolate so moist it was practically dripping. “You don’t have to do that anymore. I can feed you all the food you could ever want, all for free. All you can eat is a personal promise of mine, after all, and I think we both know you could have a whole lot more.” A single slice floated in front of Minty’s messy face, the scent of it enough to drive her to her knees, if her belly wasn’t in the way, that is. Despite all she’d eaten, she was still so hungry. “This is what you want, isn’t it? To be able to eat and eat and eat, without a care in the world?” Spellbound’s horn glowed brighter, and more food floated out of the kitchen, an avalanche of fattening sweets.
The very last thing Minty Moonshine saw before she closed her eyes was Spellbound’s smile, and a literal mountain of food, all heading for her mouth.
~~~~~ *** ~~~~~
A crowd had gathered around the formerly empty lot by the time the Don and his guards, still short one pony, arrived. Everypony was staring, open mouthed, and even the mostly-unflappable Don’s eyes were bugging out of his head. Where last night there had been an empty lot, there stood a cottage that seemed to be bursting at the seams. Some sort of blue blob had filled it to the point of busting out the windows and spilling out of the doorframe, the door laying on the ground a good distance away. The Don and his entourage pushed their way to the front of the crowd, where Spellbound was sitting on what looked to be the single remaining undamaged chair, sipping on a mug of tea. She hopped to her hooves as she saw him approach, and her mug vanished with a quiet pop and a flash of purple sparkles.
“I take it you caught her?” He asked, staring at the bulging cottage behind the pudgy witch, almost certain it was growing slightly. Spellbound just smiled.
“How about you see for yourself?” Her horn glowed, and before anypony could react, both she and the Don vanished just like her mug, teleporting inside the cottage. The Don almost fell as he landed, his hooves sinking deep into something very soft and warm, and his head brushed the ceiling. His eyes widened further as he gazed around, seeing nothing other than the very tops of the walls of the cottage, and the dark blue of the blob. Spellbound walked surehoofedly towards a large dimple in the sea of flab, and the Don’s eyes widened yet further when he realised it was Minty’s head in the divot. The only way to tell where her head was, sunken deep into her neck rolls and bloated cheeks, was to look for the endlessly reappearing foods appearing only to be stuffed into her waiting maw without restraint. Minty was barely aware of anything other than the food that kept filling her mouth, in absolute bliss. Her belly spilled out along the ground underneath her, lifting her high into the air, softer than a cloud, and covered in rolls upon folds upon rolls. She had completely filled the cottage to the brim, smashing the tables and chairs to toothpicks underneath her bulk. Her hooves, having long lost their ability to reach the ground, had become small dimples in the ocean of dark blue fat, her legs bloated to absurd sizes, entirely immobile aside from a slight wiggle of pleasure as she ate, and ate, and ate. Her cutie mark was almost out of sight, her flanks slowly demolishing the stone wainscot of the cottage. The Don felt a gentle upward pressure on his hooves and realised that she was still growing. He felt a chill of fear knowing that he owed the witch responsible for this a favour, but kept his face as impassive as possible. Spellbound smiled at the obviously uncomfortable stallion. “Minty Moonshine is still dining, but she won’t be dashing anymore.” She said happily.
“Thank you.” The Don held out his hoof, and she shook it. “I take it you’ll take care of the mess?” He said gravely. Spellbound nodded, and smiled.
“Oh course, and rest assured, you won’t see her around here anymore.” Spellbound tapped her chin with her hoof. “Well, maybe, depending on how much she eats. Cookie for the road?” The Don shook his head.
“I shouldn’t. I’ve got to get back to the restaurant.” Spellbound’s horn glowed a moment, and the Don found himself outside again, watching as the entire house, Minty and all, glowed violet before winking out of sight, leaving nothing but a divot in the grass, and the broken door. The Don straightened, and looked out into the crowd before jerking his head, and his guards fell in behind him. The crowd dispersed gradually, finally leaving two mares. Velvet Melody tugged on Sunnie Bun’s leg.
“Let’s go, Sunshine, we’re going to miss our reservation!” Sunnie was rooted to the spot, eyes fixed on where the cottage was. She couldn’t help but shake the feeling she knew who had been filling the cottage, a mare she hadn’t seen in years.
“Was that really you, Mint?” She whispered under her breath, before letting her marefriend lead her away.
