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Drake was well beyond hungry, famished, or even ravenous; his need to feed was some new word altogether. The rolling pile of fat and German Shepherd had woken up just _hungry_for some reason, and it was far worse than he could remember. Maintaining his sizable frame did involve a lot of eating, sure... But this was something new for the canine, and as he began the arduous task of rolling his sloshing, heaving bulk out of bed, Drake knew that he was going to be spending that day eating. He thankfully only had plans for his friend Mekki to swing by that day, the wolfcoon having been absent from the G-Shep's life for a little too long. Their day was supposed to start with breakfast, something that Drake desperately needed... But he wasn't quite sure of Mekki was up to just how much food it would take to even put a dent in the canine's hunger. Drake had never been quite as hungry as he was, so even he wasn't genuinely sure just how much he would need to satiate his stomach, ora t the very least stop it from howling at him. He did know, however, that he needed to eat something, and he needed it to eat as of about three days ago.

Almost ten minutes of grunting, sloshing and rolling back and forth, and Drake was up on his feet. His stomach always took ages to get moving, as the gravid mass of excess was heavy beyond all reason. It sagged languidly down onto the floor, spreading out over a yard in front of the towering ball of canine that possessed it. The fact that his stomach had a firm, committed relationship with the ground did make moving around something of a challenge for Drake, but it was one that he was more than willing to try and tackle. His barrel-like legs, each larger around than most other furs, somehow held his bulk aloft, though getting those things moving was another trial in balance. The couldn't fully move forward without kicking into all that blubber sagging before them, so Drake had to improvise... Meaning his legs kicked out to the side before moving forward, leaving him with something of a bird-like waddle in order to move forward. Of course, it looked somewhat ridiculous, but the canine wasn't doing much walking nowadays... Or really, ever, as he often could get friends to bring him meals in bed. Of course, he wasn't planning on that today thanks to just how much he needed to eat, and the fact that he was going to have company that day; he couldn't sit in bed with a rare visitor! That was simply rude.

Kicking and pressing his bulk forward in slow, glacially-paced steps, Drake held his sagging balloons of arms out for balance. His biceps looked more akin to small stomachs sagging off his upper arms, while his forearms were deflated balloons of pure fat. There was so much fat on those arms in fact, that Drake was beginning to lose his paws into the fat of his wrists, giving them a similar fate to his feet; his ankle lard had long ago conquered his feet, and as such meant that his calves touched the ground almost more than his feet with every precarious step that he took. His stomach on the floor, at his size, was a blessing in disguise as it served as an extra leg to keep Drake's balance... Of course, it was also a clear reminder of the excess to which he ate, and that was far more what Drake wanted to see his stomach as. The tan-furred mass of flab was his primary feature, framed only by the singular, truck-tire-sized roll of lard that he called a love-handle, but others called a fat shelf. His chest was similarly comical in its proportions, the fat there just as dense and heavy as the rest of him. It gave him prominent moobs, but those two sacs of adipose served as mere foothills to the grandiose mountain of fat and food that was the canine's stomach; nothing on him came close, and he knew it.

It took him another ten minutes or so, but once the canine had made it nearer to the kitchen... His nose finally awoke, and the smells of breakfast flooded towards Drake. Eggs, bacon, pancakes, toast, croissants, muffins... It was as if an entire buffet had been born in his kitchen, and the canine was smelling it all at once. Drool immediately formed at the corners of his muzzle, dropping a bit down his cheeks as the mini-bellies on his face jostled from the heavy footfalls nearly ten feet below them. Drake didn't much care about, though, his pace quickening as much as the multi-tonned dog could muster, to get closer to the food faster. That did mean he looked even more comical, his frame shifting to and fro rather alarmingly as the German Shepherd practically swam against the fat of his torso, but he did make it to the triple-wide kitchen door in record time. Despite the door being wider than it was tall, Drake filled the entryway rather wholly, his head just about scraping the top as his sides lightly brushed against their respective sides as well. There was just so much of him, and he took pride in that as he gingerly stepped through the doorway to get even closer still to his prize.

"Ah, you're finally up!" came a voice, snapping Drake momentarily away from the food spread out before him. The canine didn't look towards that voice, instead letting his ears do the work so that his eyes could drink up the spread of food before them. "Hungry too I see, though that's just about all the time for you, right?"

"Yeah..." Drake slurred out slightly, the heft of his face impeding his speech; looking down meant that chins, cheeks, and even the bit of fat atop the German Shephard's muzzle all bunched together and made talking nigh impossible. "It looks... gooood..."

"And, you sound tired." The voice spoke again, though this time, it was joined by a few steps and the sound of rubber dragging along tile. That second noise was enough for Drake to at least turn his whole head towards the source of that voice as opposed to just his ears... And once he did, the canine wasn't disappointed. He saw Mekki finally, the lithe wolfcoon dressed in his usual, casual outfit. In his small, black-mitted paws though was a hose, and it didn't take long for Drake to piece together just what was at the end of that hose. "I figured you would want some coffee... So is a 55-gallon drum of it enough?"

"You read my mind," replied Drake, leaning down to take the hose from Mekki. It took some doing on both of their parts to get the tube up to the German Shepherd, in no small part thanks to their vast size difference. Drake was near twice the height of the wolfcoon, and several orders of magnitude larger. Whereas Mekki was the average size of an anthro, Drake was more akin to the size of vehicles... And that meant passing anything between the pair was a task. Pressing into heft, some squirming, a few grunts from Drake, and that was what it took to get the hose to the canine. He didn't wait a moment for Mekki either, the canine popping the tube right into his mouth with a modicum of effort thanks to the fat of his chest getting in his way. Once in, he sucked on the hose rather hard... Only to get nothing from it. He frowned, looking down at Mekki over his own tan horizon with the best cross expression he could muster despite his overly-fattened, cherubic features making anger a nigh impossibility for the canine.

"Sorry, sorry... Gotta turn it on. It's already drowned in milk and sugar too for you," Mekki started, turning around on his heel and taking a few large strides towards a nozzle across the room. "There's also... A bit of a surprise in there too." The wolfcoon didn't wait for Drake to question that surprise though, flipping the nozzle to full without another word. The hose bulged and torqued about Drake needing to grab onto it with both paws to keep it from flinging away from him with the sudden force behind the liquid running through it. With that force, it took just a moment for the coffee-flavored mixture of dairy and sugar to come flooding into the canine. It was a full-powered pump, too, meaning Drake had to swallow hard and fast in order to keep up. Luckily for the canine, his cheeks were used to being crammed fuller than a chipmunk's in winter, and as such it meant that he was able to store a rather sizable amount of the mixture in his mouth before he had to worry about choking. Using practice that he could have only gotten from ages of being a wanton glutton, the canine was somehow able to keep up with the flow going into his maw. Just how was a trade secret known only to the most gluttonous of beasts, but Drake was an expert at it, and he made short work of the entire 55 gallons of coffee-mix that had been offered to him.

The whole tank took about two minutes to drain into the canine, but it took approximately two minutes, one second for Drake to feel the effects of that mystery ingredient in the coffee. Gone was just his hunger from earlier... He was now nearly in pain; he needed food so bad. He already had been famished, and Mekki had decided to add in something else to further stimulate that hunger. Of course, the wolfcoon couldn't have known that Drake was starving... But this? The canine needed to eat, and he was going to do just that. The spread before him wouldn't be enough... No, servings, or even restaurants, wouldn't be enough for him. He needed something further along than that altogether; something could feed a country. His eyes wide and his whole frame seeming to undulate from a rather aggressive growl in his stomach, Drake was only able to keep standing for a moment longer before he doubled over from a wave of hunger punching him right in his groaning, gurgling stomach. The canine felt as though he had never eaten in his life or the lives before that, and it showed as he grabbed for muffins, pancakes... Anything and everything that he could get his paws on, and just shoved it down into his face. Gone was any pretense of manners or control for the canine; he was hungry, and he was going to eat.

Thankfully, Mekki seemed to have been prepared for this. The wolfcoon slowly steered Drake out towards the backyard of his home, using a trail of food to get the canine to move even at all. The German Shepherd didn't question where he was being led, as there was more food for him to eat... And logical thought had long been tossed to the wayside for there to be more room for food. He ate with both paws, shoveling in anything he could as though it was going to run away from him. His stomach bulged and swelled with the influx of food, sure... But it was then that the second part of the coffee kicked in. Digestion began, and Drake immediately noticed it as he began to feel even more cumbersome. Getting around before had been a task, but as pounds began to clamber onto his frame at an ever-increasing rate, the canine knew that wherever he was going would be his final stop on his food-filled tour. Mekki looked like he knew that too, as the food around the door got a little thin... Of course, that was until Drake made it outside. The canine wasn't expecting what he saw, but as soon as he did see it, he knew that the entire day was planned from top to bottom for him.

Upon setting foot outside, the drake was immediately assailed with more food. Mekki had places pillows in the middle of the sizable yard (What kind of canine would Drake be without a large yard?!), and the path there was paved with pastries of all kinds. Doughnuts, Cronuts, Crepes, Scones, Muffins, Macaroons... All were there and ripe for the taking. Drake was starting to have issues reaching those treats, though, and that was when Mekki jumped into action to help the hopelessly-food-addicted canine with his quest to eat everything he could. Wordlessly, the wolfcoon hopped up into the cavern of a belly button that Drake possessed; the cave of blubber was the result of his lowest roll of fat bumping against the filled rolls of his stomach, creating a fattened cave of sorts on the front of the canine... And the perfect spot for Mekki to perch and begin tossing treats up for Drake to reach. The canine didn't question the sudden help, just leaning back and opening his mouth wide for Mekki to toss things into. Thankfully, the wolfcoon was reasonably accurate with his tosses, and any that did miss were quickly snapped up by waiting paws or an overeager tongue for Drake to deposit right into his waiting gullet. It was an efficient system of fattening, and it was working so well that Drake didn't know how much longer he could hold out on standing.

It was a minor miracle for the canine, but somehow he made it over to the pillows that he was meant to sit on. Once there, he just leaned back onto the cushions and let his fat take care of the rest. His flabby rump was mere inches from the ground by the time he had made it over, and with the added weight of Mekki and probably two hundred or so pounds of newly-minted fat attached to his stomach alone, it was beyond a mere chore for the canine to keep moving. So, now that he didn't have to... Drake let his appetite take over. Food flew in now that Mekki didn't have to worry about his own balance, and Drake too could feel new spreads of food being moved against his sides. The canine had figured the wolfcoon had help, but as he gorged with abandon, he had to wonder just how much support it had taken to pull off such an over-the-top feast. The German Shepherd had already tasted the cooking of five different restaurants, and with how fast it was all still coming, he suspected there would be many, many more before their feasting was done. He didn't want to question the source of his food, though, and instead just wanted to enjoy it as properly as he could. So on, and on, and on, he ate.

Mekki slowly went from just tossing food to Drake to feeding him directly. It took nearly a full hour of feasting, but eventually, the canine had grown too fat to feed himself. It had been a struggle at the start of his grand meal, but with the newly added fat all around him becoming overwhelming, he just couldn't feet himself anymore. Mekki stepped in to remedy this, bringing up veritable troughs of food and just tilting them towards the canine's buried muzzle. Drake, powered by overarching hunger and a strong penchant for gluttony, managed to somehow keep eating like this, even if his cheeks and chins were starting to become their own annoyances in impeding his feasting. Mekki solved this problem too, getting Drake to lean back a little more in his fat so that his muzzle was tipped up towards the sky. Arching back when there was enough ass to smother a car completely behind oneself was no easy task, but between Mekki's encouragement with a donut on a stick, and Drake's own innate strength, the two managed to get the job done and Drake eating with the same speed and gusto that he usually did all over again. He was eating so heartily, in fact, that the troughs around him were emptying at a pace that Mekki looked to be worried about. The wolfcoon clearly had expected Drake to be enormously hungry after the coffee that morning, but as the feast dragged on, and on, and on still... The hybrid was starting to run low on food.

The plan for such an issue? Mekki had come prepared... And hoses were the next order of the day. Breakfast had bled into lunch by that point, and yet Drake was still so ravenous and so incredibly addicted to his eating now that if Mekki slowed down for even a moment, there was either a growl from the muzzle or the stomach of the canine that he was now knee-deep in. Sunken that much into fat before there was any resistance wasn't quite uncommon with Drake, sure... But to think that there was going to be more of him once the wolfcoon was done made the both of them rather excited at the prospect, even if they showed it in radically different ways. Drake? He swayed ever so slightly to the side, his broad tail trying to wag from somewhere deep in the depths of his amorphous frame. His limbs, all long-devoured by the wave of fat which was washing over his frame with every single calorie that he crammed down into his iron stomach, all twitched with glee as well, but there was just so much of the canine that a twitch of a limb or a wag of his tail merely added to the constant undulations and shifts along his oceanic surface. It was hypnotic to watch, and that was where Mekki's enjoyment came in; he couldn't take his eyes off the tan acreage which was slowly, but surely, swallowing him down into its warm, blubbery depths. Somewhere near where he stood were surely moobs, but there was just such an absurd amount of fat on the canine at that point that knowing where one part of the G-Shep began and the next ended meant counting the rolls of fat or even looking at the pattern of his fur. However, there was just so much Drake now that even those methods were becoming useless, and it was quickly becoming a game of finding his sunken-in head and only using that as the one landmark in the lake of Drake.

The addition of hoses was imminent, though... And that lake of Drake was about to grow into an ocean of mutt; Mekki and Drake both knew this quite well. The two had dabbled with the powered pumps before, sure... But at the scale that Mekki had planned, and with the additives in them? Well... Drake wasn't surprised that it took scant seconds after he was hooked up to the hose for the world around him to grow black. From there, he couldn't see his expansion, but he could surely feel it... He felt the buildings around him pressing into his bulk, his own house crumbling under the onslaught of dog that came from being pumped full of adipose and calories as though his life depended on it. The spread continued with every swallow, a second hose joining the first to ensure that, and then a third, a fourth... It was six hoses, in total for the canine, testing even his own limits to keep up with the flow of pure fat into his frame. He practically exploded with weight, and with all his senses but touch and taste blocked from being experienced, the canine was able to get every visceral detail of his growth from feeling the area around him against his stretching, expansive hide. Buildings toppling, sidewalks smothered on both sides of roadways, cars by the dozen entombed, office towers resisting for as long as they could before they became more casualties of Drake's expansion... It was intoxicating for the canine, and with every swallow, the feeling grew that much more addicting for him. Of course, no one knew that this growing blob was, in fact, a canine.... How could they? Drake was several thousand times more fat than canine, his stomach alone a balloon orders of magnitude bigger than he had been that morning. His flabby hide? That was starting to let its owner be known of the trees around it... Trees that were on the outskirts of the city which Drake was now smothering. He was beyond fat now, beyond huge, beyond any word that could hope to describe the enormity of one individual.

And he still had to eat dinner.