Not realizing your magical BF has been slowly reality altering your waistline 1" wider every day. Being nonethewiser as you "go" from M->L->XL->->->XXXL with conveniently wide(r) doorways, reinforced furniture, and a societal normalization of eating family sized meals solo...

Introducing your trim, meek vegan BF to the greasiest, sloppiest, lowest quality fast food burgers and watching them instantly get hooked and gorge their way to a slovenly, blubbery, hedonistic 600 lbs of sweat, grease, and cellulite...

The engineer letting the AI go rogue by forcibly tube feeding all the crew members until they were 700 lb wobbling mounds of adipose because they were the one that had programmed the secret "chub-ifiy the crew" processes into the base-code in the first place...

The moment of shock when you see your BF suddenly bloated up 400 lbs, tearing through their once-baggy now crop-top t shirt after pranking them by sneaking off-brand "gainer" powder into their milkshake that you had ordered from a sketchy pop-up ad: Guess it wasn't a scam...

Mood: Distracted Employment Gains Being worked so hard at the understaffed burger joint that you don't have time to notice all those mid-shift burger "snacks" and grazing of fries as has packed an extra 75 lbs on your frame in just a few short months...

Groaning as your roommate pushes another burger on you, the double frozen patties, congealed American cheese & crushed sesame bun still technically edible even days after the holiday cookout. "Accidentally" making 200 burgers for 4 people was looking more & more intentional...

As the weeks go by, the owner of the new bakery down the street watching your trim frame bloat out, soon sporting a thick paunch fueled by your new quadruple chocolate brownies, a double chin manifested by your penchant for lemon tarts & double wide hips from cookie raids...

YOU CAN ALWAYS GET FATTER YOU CAN ALWAYS GET HEAVIER YOU CAN ALWAYS GET FLABBIER YOU CAN ALWAYS GET SOFTER YOU CAN ALWAYS GET BIGGER YOU CAN ALWAYS GET MEATIER

That first morning that you felt the excess weight of your pillow-sized moobs on your lungs and the crushing mass of your boulder gut as you tried to sit up, only to feel your bloated arms & legs struggle against their own flabby exteriors: You were officially immobile.

Sitting next to your 6'8", 700 lb BF, his smacking lips prompting to a shower of crumbs and saliva to rain down on your as he gorges on an entire sheet pan of brownies... one that you had made for him cause you loved watching his monstrous appetite, and body, continue to grow...

Thin, scrawny twink BFs that get the fast food indulgence itch and while you could say their growing addiction to doubled battered fries and triple stacked burgers was getting out of hand, you loved seeing their frame fill out with curves, growing wide, soft, & doughy...

Gaining isn't JUST about getting heavier, it's about TAKING UP MORE SPACE. Become wide & force others to make wide births around your triple wide hips on the sidewalk, become bulbous such that your rump stretches across 2 diner stools, 3 plane seats & an entire bench width...

Sometimes to get your lanky, health-nut BF off your back about your widening waistline is to forcibly addict them to grease and lard through high-octane subliminal messages in their workout music, such that THEY start packing on pounds faster than you...

Burger Palace lobbying the government to delist "food addiction" as a real thing... ...10 years later, it is commonly accepted that the "joy" derived from gorging on 3 triple-cheeseburgers is the as natural and "healthy" as the endorphin rush after a run...

Bringing your 600 lb BF a 2nd plate of brownies, sliding them next to his gaming station as he belches & keeps tapping his plump paws on the keyboard. Sure, a year ago he was a D1 college runner, a speed specialist, but unlocking someone's true gluttonous self was YOUR specialty...

A company who is intentionally trying to fatten up their employees, systematically upsizing the office workers' chairs so that they don't notice that their widening, 3XXL rumps are filling out industrial size chairs...

Whether you partake in the holiday or not, your goal today should be to EAT AS MUCH AS YOU CAN, DON'T HOLD BACK JUST EAT JUST CONSUME JUST GORGE TO SNACK JUST BINGE JUST STUFF JUST GLUT JUST KEEP EATING...

Nervous wolf fattening up his coyote BF so his meatier limbs, wider hips, thicker torso, and bloated muzzle make him look more like a wolf himself in preparation to meet the family, only to realize they're totally and completely accepting. Oops, guess his BF is a chubbo now...

The nice thing about a Type A BF is that they're really organized and on top of things. The bad thing is if they're a feeder they'll stop at nothing until you're a 750 lb wobbling ball of cellulite-riddled, useless blubber... ...actually no, that's still a good thing...

Reality altering your abs into a potbelly Reality altering your pecs into flabby moobs Reality altering your glutes into triple wide hips Reality altering your quads into thunder thighs Reality altering your jawline into 3x-chinned doughiness

You're meant to be fat You're meant to be bulbous You're meant to be heavy You're meant to be sweaty You're meant to be gargantuan You're meant to be jiggly You're meant to be pillowy mound of cellulite-riddled blubber, so keep eating until you achieve self-actualization...

Feeling the weighty sway of your triple-wide hips, the heavy slap of your apron-gut on your thighs, the bounce of your pillowy moobs against your belly, the wobble of your love handles, & the jostle of your thick, chipmunk cheeks as you waddle to the kitchen for another snack...

Not reading the clause in your contract at the bakery stating that you are REQUIRED to pack on 200 lbs to have exude the "jolly" aesthetic they require. And if you don't, they'll take on that "job training" themselves, forcing you to eat cake batter until you're "in compliance".

The desire to be fattened up like livestock by your BF: -Your "job" is to feed from a trough -As your limbs bloat and become engorged, your BF taking your measurements like a prized hog prepping for the county fair -Collar with a bell growing tight around your thickening neck

Feeling the bulk of your 600 lb frame literally weighing you down, that bulbous mass making your movements cumbersome & slow, the soft layers of adipose jostling & wobbling with discordant momentums that throw off your balance and coordination. Man, you've gotten out of shape...

Your goal should be to make your favorite XXL baggy lounge shirt into a crop top that barely fits over your pillow-sized moobs and bean-bag chair of a gut...

With each pound you gain, your personal assistant AI, now with AccuracyBoost(TM) systematically going back through all your photos, social media posts, and bank statements to retroactively "correct the record" so you've always been a greedy, gluttonous wideload...

Pseudo-Rogue Ship AI systematically isolating each crew member, stuffing a feeding tube down their throat, and forcibly fattening them up until they tear through their "one size fits all" jumpsuits to prove a point that one size does not fit ALL THAT BLUBBER...

Implanting that "GREED" chip into your lithe coyote BF's skull and watching as they glut and gorge their way up to 500 lbs with a bloated muzzle, thickened limbs and wide, bottom heavy waist that makes them look more like an overfed wolf compared to their former unaltered self...

Knowing you shouldn't go back for 4ths at the buffet, that you already had downed 5000 cals, that you were perspiring from meat sweats, that your belt was already straining around your swollen middle, but one more round of ribs and mac and cheese would, *hic, hit the spot...