Flapjacks and Fat Cats
random story topic suggested by a friend.
"All you can eat? R-Really?" Steve's eyes went wide, his mouth watering.
"Yes sir! Today only, just twelve dollars and you can eat your fill." The greyhound gave a somewhat insincere grin. "You look like you enjoy your pancakes. What do you say?"
Steve noticed the dog's subtle way of calling him fat, but he took pride in being a fat kitty, so he took it as a compliment. "You bet! This'll be great!"
"Well, then, if you would come this way, my name is Henry and I will be your server. Our stacks of pancakes come in 3, 4, and, if you're feeling brave, 5 to a plate. How many and what kind would you like to start off with?"
"Five buttermilk pancakes, please!" Steve said as he sat down. "Some milk would be nice too."
"Right away!"
As he waited Steve looked around. Everyone else was happily eating pancakes, some with friends and family, others by themselves. The majority were heavyset, bellies hanging over their beltlines. Steve grinned, he loved rubbing bellies, and saw a few he wanted to press against his own. As he thought about this the waiter brought out his first stack, his glass of milk, and a few packets of butter. Before walking away to attend another diner he pointed out a rack with several varieties of syrup, including maple, blueberry, and extra butter flavor. Steve slathered some butter on each pancake in the stack and dowsed them in maple syrup, and got to eating.
So good! Steve thought as he savored the first bite. It had been a long time since he had a good pancake. Despite what his weight might suggest he led a busy life and rarely got to go out to places like this. He entered an almost trance-like state as he ate, quickly finishing the stack and washing it down with a gulp of milk. He let out a sigh of content, followed by a small belch.
"Well, that was fast!" Steve looked up and saw Henry standing over him. "Shall I get another plate for you? Perhaps a smaller stack this time?"
"Nope, same size! Do you have whole grain pancakes? And more milk please."
"Right away!"
Henry dashed away, leaving Steve to survey the restaurant again. Several of the diners looked like they were done and had two or three empty plates in front of them. Lightweights, Steve thought, smiling to himself, I'll show 'em how it's done. Henry came back with Steve's next stack of pancakes, and Steve ate it with every bit of gusto as the first. He asked for another.
And another.
And another.
Steve was now on his fifth stack. Several of the other diners had stopped to stare at him as he gorged himself, their faces displaying anything from amazement to disgust. Steve paid no mind to them; he was proud of his talent for packing away large quantities of food. He picked up a bottle of blueberry syrup this time and drizzled some over his stack, and got to work. He was picking up steam in a sense, as he no longer cut the pancakes into bite-sized pieces, instead spearing one on his fork and taking big bites out of it. Three left... two... one... "More please! Can you go ahead and bring out two stacks this time?"
Henry tried to hide his grimace behind a painful looking smile. "You've had quite a lot, sir, perhaps you're getting full? I'd advise only one more stack for the time being. A small one"
Steve rubbed his belly. It had distended enough that his shirt was riding up it, exposing his white stomach fur. "Nah, I'm not even beginning to get full yet. I've eaten way more than this before. Can I get one stack of blueberry and a stack of whole grain pancakes?"
Henry shuddered slightly. "I'll put that in for you." He turned on the spot and walked away in a stilted manner.
As Steve waited on his pancakes, he tried to pull his shirt back down. He could pull it back down to his waist, but it kept snapping back up. He tried tucking it into his sweatpants, but that didn't work either. Steve sighed and resigned to leaving his belly on display. He took a sip from his glass of milk, and as he did he noticed a pudgy male raccoon staring rather intently at him from the table across from his. Their eyes met briefly before the raccoon quickly looked away and pretended to be interested in something on the wall, but his eyes flitted back to Steve every few seconds.
The sixth and seventh stacks came out. Steve ate the grain pancakes in the same way as the last stack, and after the first blueberry pancake he ate the rest two at a time. Steve asked Henry the server (who had not bothered to step away from the table) if he could get six to a stack, and was told no. He thought about this, and ordered three 4-stacks of blueberry pancakes.
Steve leaned back in his seat and rubbed his belly again. His sweatpants were now very snug on him. Thirty-five pancakes in... Steve could certainly eat more. He might regret it in a few hours, but he was having too much fun filling up to care about that. He gulped down some more milk and again noticed the raccoon eying him with an almost hungry expression. This time he did not look away when Steve made eye contact with him, and instead smiled and gave a small wave. Steve was about to wave back when Henry came by with his three medium stacks of blueberry pancakes, nearly slamming them down without even pausing as he moved to another table.
Steve was starting to suspect Henry disliked him for some reason.
One stack vanished down Steve's throat almost as soon as it had been placed down, but Steve ate the next stack only one pancake at a time. He was beginning to feel a bit full, and now needed to pace himself better. He polished off his current stack, and to work on the third plate in front of him. A few bites in, everything seemed fine, until-
Snap! Rrrrrripp...
Steve looked down, towards the source of the noise: his sweatpants. No longer able to contain his girth, the elastic had given out and the cloth could not hold back his massive gut. Live a tidal wave, Steve's belly crashed down, and was left with only shreds on his legs. Steve wished he hadn't gone commando that day.
"Sir!" Henry barked at Steve, "we cannot allow such an offensive display in this establishment!"
"I-I'm sorry, it was an acci-"
"Please leave at once!"
"But I haven't paid for-"
"Leave!"
Steve slid out of his chair. His belly hung low enough to cover his crotch, leaving him free to hold up the back end of what remained of his pants so his rear wouldn't be exposed as well. All eyes were on him. Shuffling out the door, Steve wondered how he was supposed to get home like this. He had no car, and didn't think he'd be allowed on the bus without pants. He could barely walk with his belly sloshing about so much, and even if he could he'd probably get arrested for public indecency. Steve sniffled and sat down on a bench just outside, trying not to cry. Today started out so well...
A paw gently touched his shoulder. Steve looked up and saw the beaming face of the pudgy raccoon from inside the restaurant. "Hey there, big buddy. Um..." He shifted his weight from one leg to another and back, trying not to seem too bashful. "If you want I could give you a lift to your place. Or maybe," he hesitated and took a couple of breaths, "we could go to mine?"
Steve's day was looking better.