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The Bug Burga Bust
🕑 Added 2022-12-31 00:34:42 +0000 UTCWork at the Z.P.D. was fortunately slow today, giving Nick little to do at the front desk but stuff his face on donuts and snacks from the vending machine. It was rare not to hear the fox smacking his lips or murmuring with a full mouth over the radio, often requiring him to relay the same orders twice. He filled in for Clawhauser while the cheetah was on leave, unable to haul himself in for work after Nick introduced him to Doe. A week full of sitting and constant snacking felt like a dream come true. Sitting in the cheetah’s wide heavy duty chair, he could see how his colleague managed to get so large to begin with.
After his last binge with Doe at her donut shop, Nick’s passion for overeating had reached obsessive proportions. Seldom did he find himself not reaching for something to stuff in his mouth, or salivating at the thought of having one more bag of chips. Where before simply buying his early morning donuts was enough to satisfy him throughout his shift, he now brought with him his own backpack of snacks, ate at the cafeteria, and humbly offered to eat any leftover lunches his fellow officers didn’t finish.
The result of his overeating grew him fatter than anyone thought a fox was capable of. Where once he was half the size of a wolf, he grew wider than even the largest hippo at the station, and just as tall. Even as he wore a hippo sized uniform, much of his white and orange belly was exposed as his shirt rode up. A snake like belt was all that held his pants up above his waist, but even its days were numbered with each inch Nick added to his enormous gut.
Nick leaned back in Clawhauser’s chair, contently sighing as he jutted out his stomach, cradling a bag of cheese flavored corn puffs with a paw. In between dispatching orders to officers in the field and eating, he’d playfully rub his gut between the gap of his clothing. Squeezing against the front desk as it burbled with junk food, his full mouth muffled his mirthful laughter. Criminals brought in for processing would stare at him wide eyed with shock and disgust, the cogs in their brian jamming as they pondered what manner of blubbery beast they were staring at. The spectacle only added to Nick’s hunger, enabling him to belch or stuff his face before sending them away.
Finishing his last box of donuts, Nick folded it up and threw it in a large garbage bag beside him. He covered his mouth with a paw, muffling a belch before proudly looking down at his hulking frame. His paws slid down to his sides, squishing against the doughy blubber of his belly over the fabric of his pants. Wobbling it with both paws, he sighed with contentment. Its undulating motions rippled their way up to his round jolly face.
“Clawhauser sure has been living the life at this desk,” said Nick. “No physical activity, multiple vending machines, a fully stocked cafeteria and a phone for fast food delivery. What’s not to love?”
At the thought of fast food, he turned his gaze to a nearby clock. His stomach blorped, and he licked drool from the corners of his mouth. Lunchbreak was just five minutes away, meaning a half hour of glutting some of his favorite fast food as quickly as possible before lumbering his way back. His stomach could hardly wait to feel sufficiently satisfied long enough until he got off duty, ending his day with a large dinner, followed by snacking back at the apartment till soothing sleep overtook him.
Nick quickly ate what bags of snacks he still had opened, wiping crumbs from his counter and cleaning it as best he could. The bags he had yet to open he slipped back in his backpack, groaning as he leaned himself over just to pick it off the floor. Wrapping his backpack around his shoulder and picking up his garbage bag, he stood up from his chair, balancing the full weight of his body on his tiny footpaws.
He looked around the foyer for anyone who could relieve him, spotting a fellow officer leaving the locker room. “Hey, Wolford,” said Nick, “What’s going on?”
The wolf stopped in front of the counter. “Nothing much, just came back from patrol. Got some boring paperwork to fill out at the desk.”
“When do you go on break?”
Wolford checked the clock, “in about half an hour. Why?”
“I’m about to take my break in a few minutes. You mind holding down the fort here till I get back?”
“What’s it gunna be this time? Pizza? Tacos?”
“I’m thinking,” Nick’s stomach grumbled, “a couple of burgers would be nice.”
“Only a couple, huh? You ain’t cutting back already are you? Grizzoli and I still got that bet if you’ll outweigh Francine by the end of the month.”
Nick patted his stomach. “I’m getting there. Don’t count me out just yet.”
“I won’t, got fifty bucks riding on you. I’ll cover for you, but how about you leave me a box of donuts tomorrow morning, eh? I see you pounding down about ten of them and they always look so good.”
“Sure thing, pal. Thanks.”
Officer Wolford wryly smiled watching Nick squeeze himself out of the desk opening, feebly sucking in his gut as he exited sideways. The fox took wide strides waddling his way to the locker room, stomping as heavily as a rhino. He huffed air through his nostrils; walking to his next meal was the only real exercise he did nowadays. Throwing his backpack of snacks in his locker and tossing his garbage bag in a nearby bin, he pulled up his pants, adjusted a portion of his belly above the belt, and made his way out of the Z.P.D.
Despite being such a fat fox, traveling around Zootopia was no more difficult for him than any of the other animals similar to his size. Public transit was just as accommodating for him as it was for hippos and elephants. It inspired many hedonistic thoughts, thinking of the eventual day he’d be fatter than any of them on a daily basis, and not just after a huge binge. Being forced to wear big and tall clothing from even the largest mammal stores, or growing so fat he blocked the doors of the transit train or buses, made him quiver with anticipation. Even now, barely able to lift his own belly with both paws, he never stopped yearning for more. He day dreamed often about getting bigger, which in turn worked up a large appetite.
The Bug Burga closest to the police station was just a bus ride away. It's been more than a week since his last visit, back when his shirt actually managed to cover his stomach. Stepping off the bus, his salivating grin turned into a frown after seeing the red closing sign hanging from the front glass panel doors. Not a customer stirred inside, and the chairs were still stacked on top of their tables. The perfume of steamy bug patties and greasy fries was absent from the air, without so much as a whiff for him to smack his lips.
He turned to begin walking down the sidewalk, perhaps to the next restaurant, when a curious sight caught his attention in the alleyway beside the building. Peering through the corner of the restaurant's glass windows, two dobermans were carrying strange crates out of the restaurant and into a black van. The license plate on the van was from the rainforest district, and the crates had no label relating to the restaurant, nor did the canines wear Bug Burga uniforms. Looking inside the restaurant, the ferret owner was seen standing on top of the cashier’s counter, pointing at two other dobermans and directing them to the back storage room. His face of anger turned to that of distress once he noticed Nick staring through the glass outside. Scurrying across the restaurant, he rushed to the front door before Nick could back away, nervously greeting the fox outside.
“Officer Wilde, what a surprise. Been a week since I’ve last seen ya.”
“Hey, Joey. I came down here for some lunch but I’m surprised to see the place is closed, on your busiest day of the week no less. Seems kinda odd, since you’re the kinda guy who wouldn’t pass down a profit.”
“Right, well, ya see…ugh—.”
“Those aren’t your usual employees, not even the guys who deliver your food for the week. I know them, but not these guys.”
“Oh them,” the ferret wiped sweat from his brow, “they’re just ugh…friends of mine, helping me…ugh—.”
“And those crates they’re carrying. They’re not following the proper shipping regulations, and they don’t belong to this restaurant.”
“Ugh…well…funny thing about them is—.”
“Something’s weird here, think I better call this in—.”
“No,” the ferret frantically gripped Nick’s pants, barely reaching up to the fox’s knee. “I mean…no, we’re actually not closed, heh. We just had a late start opening, that’s all. Tell you what Nick, you’ve given me so much business and have been such a great customer, today, everything’s half off. Just for you.”
Nick took his thumb off his shoulder radio. “Come again?”
“Food, Nick. All of it. Half price. Think about it? Double the burgers, double the fries, double the shakes. I know your stomach can’t resist that kind of smorgasbord.”
Nick’s stomach gurgled up a storm. Drool once more seeped from his mouth, and all thoughts of the mysterious canines in the alley fled from his mind, replaced with visions of the burgers he usually ordered stacked twice as high; each dripping with grease, pouring with cheese and roughly the size of his head. He placed a paw on his gut, gently rubbing it to calm it down.
“You…you really mean that,” asked the fox.
“Of course, you’re my best customer,” the ferret tugged on his pants, “come on in, pull up a chair or two. I’ll start up those fryers right away and plop down a fat stack of food for you in no time.”
Entering through the wide glass doors, Nick stood in front of a square table in the center of the restaurant. The ferret pulled two other tables on either side of the center one, giving him more space to put food down. He pulled up two chairs behind Nick’s expansive rump, worrying how each of his buns dwarfed the seats in size before adding two more. There was plenty of distance between Nick’s belly and the table, and enough room underneath for his gut to comfortably pour into.
The ferret ran off into the kitchens while Nick tapped his digits and licked his chops; the anticipation for a gorge at one of his favorite restaurants was too exciting to hold back. Picturing stacks of burgers, fries, soft drinks and milkshakes filling out all three tables made him forget about his now twenty five minute lunch break. The heavenly scent of seasoned bug patties and salty spuds slowly filled the restaurant, caressing his muzzle in a tantalizing embrace.
His belly burbled ferociously, drawing his attention to it. He leaned slightly back in his chairs to undo his belt buckle. Contending with the girth of his flabby arms and wide chest, he barely managed to loosen the buckle enough to slip his paws inside his pants, lifting out heaping portions of his belly. Huffing from the exhausting effort to free his gut and love handles from their prison, he gave his furry bulk a series of squeezes and shakes. A dozen boxes of donuts and pantry of snacks blorped under the pressure of his paws.
“I didn’t expect to cut loose this early in the day, but I ain’t complaining, hehehe.”
He heavily smacked the left side of his gut three times, murmuring with bliss as it glorped. After about five minutes of admiring his fat, the ferret exited the kitchens, pulling along three trolleys with three trays piled high with a pyramid of burgers. Each burger was as large as his head, stretching from one of his cheeks to the next along with his neck fat. Stuffing a single burger whole into his mouth was a pleasurable challenge, feeling the juices and grease gush down his gullet as he packs it between his cheeks. One burger alone would feed most of zootopia’s predators, which became a badge of honor for Nick, knowing he was capable of putting even obese grizzly bears to shame.
“I’ll have your fries and drinks in a jiffy,” said the ferret, placing the trays on each table. “Kick back, relax, forget about anything else. All I wanna see those paws doing, is grabbing the next burger in line, and shoving it down that pie hole.”
Nick playfully wobbled his gut. “Oooh, that reminds me, get me a few dozen of your apple pies too, won’t you? Double what I usually get, since everything’s half off.”
“Eh…sure, whatever you want. Just keep your mind on the food.”
“Oh, that won’t be hard at all.”
The ferret pushed his trolleys back into the kitchen, leaving Nick to sniff the delectable steam off his meals. He grabbed his first burger with both paws, taking his first savory bite. He contentedly sighed, relishing the warm taste of the patty. The crunch of the lettuce, tomato and onions was like music to his ears, coupled with the mayo, mustard, ketchup and gooey cheese lavishing his tongue, the fox found himself serenaded with greasy-fattening flavor. Swallowing the chunk of barely chewed food felt like ingesting a wedge of butter, causing his stomach to bubble with elated appreciation.
Nick polished off the rest of the burger in a few bites, filling his mouth till his cheeks were bulging with food. He swallowed, feeling the large orb pack every inch of his throat, sliding down past his chest and landing in his belly with a glorp. The remnants of donuts, chips and snacks in his stomach churned at the impact of his new meal, like a bowling ball scattering a row of pins. Letting loose a gaseous belch, he licked what grease remained on his digits before grabbing his next burger.
As the sole customer of the restaurant, Nick was happy to fully indulge in all his hedonistic mannerisms. Never on previous lunch breaks did he have the time or eat enough food to have complete disregard for his manners, murmuring with pleasure after each gulp, belching incessantly or constantly smacking his belly, let alone exposing it in full public view when he wasn’t drunk with gluttony. Each grease soaked mouthful further increased his joy of the feast, spiraling him further down into another ravenous frenzy. He finished each burger at a quicker pace, taking larger bites till he could barely close his mouth. His stomach filled with that heavy sensation of well fed satisfaction he enjoyed all too well.
With a burger halfway in his mouth, Nick stopped to smell the pungent aroma of fries wheeling their way toward him. Despite being small, the ferret was adept at cooking up food quickly. He pushed over a mound of bags filled with fries onto two empty trays Nick had finished, with the third trolley of fries wheeled beside his last tray of burgers. Munching up his remaining burger, the fox leaned forward, grabbing two large pawfuls of fries and shoving them in his maw. He huffed a sigh of bliss, feeling the crispy spuds fill his cheeks; their salty flavor brushing over his tongue. His eyes winced as he swallowed, feeling their fresh out of the fryers heat travel down his gullet.
“*Ooouurp*, this is great,” muffled Nick, stuffing his mouth, then promptly swallowing. “Lots of food, *urp*, lots of stomach, what more could a fox want?”
Nick lifted up a portion of his belly from his sides, weighing in his own paws the added heft created by thirteen large cheeseburgers and enough fries to fill a bathtub. “*Buuraap*, guess it’s never too early, *orp*, to get really fat, hehehe.”
The orange and white mass of fur squelched as it dropped onto the fox’s lap, wobbling and budging the middle table forward. As he finished the remaining fries and burgers, the ferret returned with over two dozen large cups filled with either strawberry, chocolate or vanilla milkshakes topped with whipped cream, and several dozen piping hot apple pies the size of his paws. He grimaced as Nick grabbed multiple cups at once, watching as he poured all of their contents into an opened maw, guzzling the shakes down like a camel to water. Heedless of their heat, Nick tipped the entire tray of pies toward his maw, wolfing them down before they could so much as burn his tongue. The ferret thought he had been used to the fox’s gluttony on normal lunch days, but given the opportunity to eat double his normal order, Nick displayed a level of voraciousness that made the ferret take a fist sized gulp.
“Goodness…Nick. You uh…finished everything already. What was that, five minutes longer than your normal orders?”
“Was it, *huff*, I never kept count.”
Nick stood tall, jutting his hulking gut forward as he stretched, unintentionally plopping it onto the three tables, completely enveloping them along with the trays. “Thanks for the meal, Joey. *Oorp*, ugh, won’t be easy walking back to the station with this stomach. But it’s well worth it.”
“Don’t go, I need more time!”
Nick raised an eyebrow, looking at the ferret over the side of his belly. “Time for what?”
“Time…to make you another batch of food. Another round, same order, with double the patties this time. What do you say?”
The fox’s stomach loudly gurgled. “Well…I was getting in…quite the mood,” he rubbed a heaping portion of his belly. “I…really should get back, but…you’re really, *urp*, tempting me here.”
The ferret watched Nick stare at his gut, pressing his digits into its squishy surface. Looking behind him to the alleyway, he saw the dobermen still loading up the van with crates. It was only half filled, with plenty more crates to go in his back room. “Tell you what, Wilde. So long as I keep the food coming, you gotta stay here. Deal?”
“Deal,” Nick didn’t hesitate to shake the ferret’s paw.
“Give me a few minutes to whip up your order first. Help yourself to the soda machine in the meantime.”
After scurrying off back to the kitchen, the ferret’s screaming voice could be heard echoing from the back room. Nick was once again oblivious however, mesmerized by the soda machine at the side of the restaurant. His haunches and hips pushed through the tables in front of him, moving past them in a zombie like trance. His belly plopped back down on his thighs, hanging just a few inches off the floor.
Parking himself in front of the machine, he leaned forward, placing his mouth over the first nozzle. A gush of dark fizzy soda filled his gullet upon pressing the dispenser button, rapidly swelling his gut like a water balloon. The mound of indigested gorge in his stomach softened and mixed with the influx of liquid in a way even the milkshakes couldn’t achieve. His belly squished further against his legs, and the condiment counter the machine sat upon.
Nick cycled through each individual drink, chugging each flavor to the last drop. With each drink he finished, his sloshing belly pushed him further away from the nozzle, forcing him to lean further onto his gut and stand on the tips of his footpaws. Ingesting gallon after gallon of sugary beverages, his body grew larger with each gulp. His police shirt rode further up his middle, exposing his broad chest and tightening around his arms. Though originally large enough to wrap around his gut, his lower body gradually caught up in girth, snuggly fitting his pants around his legs, with a portion of his rump peeking out the top.
Letting out a long gaseous belch, Nick took a few thunderous steps away from the empty soda machine. He groaned with delight as his massive belly glorped with each step; his love handles and back rolls jiggling upon impact. Even as he leaned himself back to turn his body, much of his belly spilled onto the ground, sloshing with each movement. Wearing a look of drunken satisfaction on his face, the fox couldn’t help but triumphantly lift what portions of his blorping belly he could still reach, wobbling it in his paws.
“So much, *hic-hilp*, amazing, *mmff*, blubber. Gotta have, *hic*, more.”
As he wheeled out Nick’s second series of meals, the ferret gasped at the van sized mound of orange and white fur that loomed over him. He retreated behind the cash counter as Nick rolled forward onto his stomach, greedily shoving pawfuls of fries and an entire burger into his mouth. The fox had become an eating machine, swallowing massive mouthfuls of food with reckless abandon. Despite bulges of barely chewed on gorge still traversing his throat, he immediately packed his maw with the next load. In under a minute, he was already halfway done with his first trolley.
“Wait-wait-wait, stop, you’re going too fast,” shouted the ferret, “I only got two paws here. How am I supposed to keep up with you? You eat like an elephant in a peanut butter factory.”
“*Orf*, find, *mmf*, more, *hic*, help, *orp*.”
The ferret reluctantly looked to the back room, then back to Nick. He growled with frustration, returning to the kitchen where he could he heard relaying his orders. “Alright, two of you mutts in here with me, we got cooking to do. You other two, move your tails and load the stuff, before I deep fry your behinds and serve them to the fox!”
Nick grinned with satisfaction, delighted that his feast was about to pick up pace. “Alright, *hic-hilp*, time to call the boys.”
While the ferret was busy whipping up more food, Nick spoke into his shoulder radio. “Officer Wilde to dispatch. You still there, *hic-hilp*, Wolford?”
“Nick, what gives,” spoke Wolford through the radio, “you’re ten minutes over your lunch break, and I’m still here covering for you.”
“I know, sorry about that. I’m still, *hic-hilp*, down at the Bug Burga. There’s a situation down here I think you and Grizzoli ought to check out.”
“What kind of situation?”
“The suspicious cargo kinda, *hic*, possibly transporting contraband across districts. I got the owner and some of his henchmen distracted, *hilp*, but don’t know for how long.”
“Alright. Sit tight and keep them busy, we’re on our way.”
“Ten-four, I’ll do just that.”
Taking his thumb off the receiver, the fox began unbuttoning his tightening shirt. “If I, *hic-hilp*, tear through another uniform, the chief will kill me.”
The small hippo sized shirt slid down his back, and his pants fell down to his footpaws after wiggling his hips for a bit. Comfortably in the fur, he squeezed at the top portion of his rump, feeling the weight of its mattress like girth fold over his corpulent thighs.
Not wanting to spend too much time admiring his corpulence, Nick returned to his feast. Once more, he gorged on heaps of burgers and fries with great fervor. Great globs of food were packed between his teeth, too much for his mouth to close. His chubby paws forcibly pushed the orb to the back of his throat, causing him to wince as he slowly ingested each mouthful. He gave himself little time to catch his breath, huffing in between gulps. With the arrival of the Z.P.D. at hand, Nick was determined to gorge on as much of the ferret’s labor as he could.
Along with the regular trolleys of burgers and fries, the ferret and two of his doberman helpers brought more milkshakes, loads of onion rings and a stack of baked apple pies. The empty trolleys were retrieved and taken back to the kitchen, where the three feeders returned disgruntled back to their work.
Nick hastily gorged like he was in the middle of an eating competition with himself. Greedily he wolfed down food as if someone would arrive to take it. As a result, his blubbery mass expanded at an alarming rate. His surging belly stretched wider than each row of trolleys, pushing them against the cash counter and forcing him to lean further forward. With wider hips and fatter legs, he stood on one leg at a time just to reach food that wasn’t directly in front of him; the wideness of his blob of a waistline kept him from tipping over to one side. Having to constantly stretch his chunky arms to reach for his next mouthful became an exhausting effort. Fortunately, it paled in comparison to the joy he felt of truly struggling with his own fat.
For all the elation leaving Doe’s Donuts gave him after becoming a barely mobile blob, Nick grew head over heels over the fattening transformation happening before him. Amid all his muffled hiccups and constant ingesting of food, a torrent of sloshing occurred within his stomach. Tsunami like waves ebbed and flowed from one end of his waist to the next each time he leaned to one side or the other. The undulations caused his back and neck rolls to squish against one another, as if broad paws massaged each thickening fold. His ears twitched with delight at soupy like glorping that occurred whenever an orb of food entered his gut. As he gradually became a barn of blubber, the pleasurable sensation of blobbing up became every bit as mouth watering as the food he ate.
After demolishing several trolleys worth of fast food, Nick’s belly grew too enormous to reach over. Barely able to stand on the tips of just one of his footpaws, the fox lunged himself forward, kicking off the floor with his digits. Like rushing water, his underbelly immediately occupied the gap of space where his legs once stood. His footpaws were swallowed up by his belly and thighs, while his prodigious rear brushed against the restaurant’s ceiling. Crawling across his gut like he would a large mattress, he once again came in reach of his food, comfortably slumped over his sloshing corpulence.
The ferret owner pulled out the empty trolleys in front of Nick once he had finished. With the fox’s belly occupying the empty space and no room to wheel in more trolleys, the ferret moved the cash registers aside and used the cash counter as a buffet line, giving him more space to place more trays of food. The shorter distance between the counter and the kitchen managed to increase food output. Churning out burgers like clockwork, the ferret was zoned in, cooking with a swiftness as if he were serving twenty customers at dinner time.
Nick was all the happier for it, having faster and simpler access to the gluttony before him. Chairs and tables scraped across the floor as his amorphous blob of a belly began pushing furniture toward the front entrance, piling them in front of the doors and blocking them off. His waist began creeping along the side windows, smothering any vision of the outside. His rump flattened against the ceiling, spreading across numerous tiles and pushing a few out of place; the rafters creaked against the pressure, like he were sitting on a couch.
Moaning with muffled ecstasy, Nick grew overwhelmingly enamored by the amount of lard he began piling on. His arms grew as thick as a fat horse’s middle, preventing him from bringing food up to his mouth. A husky pair of neck rolls constantly squished against his bulky cheeks, occasionally squishing against the corners of his eyes and ears. The hillside of rolls on his broad back massaged the back of his head, steadily growing closer to enveloping it completely. With his arms unable to fill his mouth, he pushed trays into position instead, diving mouth first into a tray of food and allowing gravity to help force it all into his maw.
As the fox loomed over each meal, using only his teeth and throat muscles to help gulp down food, his paws were finally free to admire the gelatinous ocean of orange lard he managed to create. Each pat of his bubbling fur felt like smacking a waterbed, while running his paws across the surface resembled trailing his digits across a tub of pudding. The slightest hug or ripple sent his indigested gorge sloshing from beneath his paws, all the way to the edge of his legs nestled atop of his belly. Fluttering his eyes with bliss, it was difficult to moan with pleasure as three whole burgers slid down his gullet.
After ingesting his last mouthful, Nick was surprised to see nothing but empty trays on the cash counter. In his hedonistic daze, he heard the muffled voices of the ferret and others coming from the back room. Nick leaned forward as best he could, smacking his lips at the smell of the deep fryers and looking to the drive-thru window. His senses slowly returned seeing the blur of red and blue lights flashing outside. The voices became more distinct, causing Nick to grin with triumph, having gorged more than his fill before backup finally arrived.
“*Hic-hilp*, were they just, *ooorp*, slow, or did I just, *hic-hilp*, glut too fast,” Nick wobbled himself, “*mmff*, I can’t, *buuraap*, *ugh*, tell.”
Overglutted and overgorged many times over, Nick squinted his eyes toward the back room, peering past his blurred vision. Wolford and Grizzoli walked into the kitchen, gasping in awe at their fellow officer blocking all view of the front of the restaurant from the cash counter. “Hey, *bwooooorp*, boys…you finally made it, *hic-hilp*.”
“Holy cow, Wilde,” spoke Grizzoli, “you weren’t even gone from the station for an hour. How the heck did you become…this?”
“That ferret, *boorp*, was one heck, *hic-hilp*, of a fry cook. Shame he was also a criminal. I’m guessing, *hic-hilp*, you got him since I’m not eating anymore.”
“We did,” said Wolford, “him and his four helpers. You were right. They were using this place as a front to help smuggle contraband across different districts. They were almost finished loading the van too, thankfully Fangmire and Delgato backed us up and blocked the other end of the alleyway.”
Nick dropped both arms onto his gut, sloppily grinning and murmuring with delight. “*Hmmff*, me and my stomach, *hic-hilp*, kept them busy. I must have eaten over, *uuurp*, *guh*, a hundred burgers, *hilp*.”
The two wolves grimaced at each other, with grizzoli looking over the empty trays on the counter. “Unbelievable. I’m barely able to finish one bug burga combo on my own.”
“Really,” said Wolford, “even I could handle a combo just fine.”
Grizzoli prodded Wolford’s gut with a digit, “that’s because you and Wilde got more in common than you think. Next, you’ll be having boxes of donuts all to yourself too.”
Nick smugly grinned back at Wolford, who sheepishly looked back to him. “So, *hic-hilp*, considering I’m so fat, *orp*, I’m filling up nearly this whole restaurant, I’m definitely heavier than Francine. Who won the bet?”
Wolford now smugly grinned back at Grizzoli, who grumpily handed the gray wolf a bill of money before walking to the back room. “Good work, Wilde,” he called back, “see you at the station.”
“*Hic-hilp*, he does know I’m incapable of going anywhere, right?”
Wolford picked up a single fry from a tray, “I guess I could cover the rest of your shift, but it’ll cost you.”
Nick raised a curious eyebrow, never having been asked for any particular favors from Wolford. Though his mind was addled by gluttony, the fox couldn’t help but notice the wolf keenly glossing over his corpulent physique. He watched the wolf become fixated on his paw tapping upon his jiggling flesh, or how his husky hiccups sent a subtle shiver down the wolf’s spine; there appeared to be some hint of intrigue in Wolford’s eyes, but not in the vain of Judy or Doe’s interest in large animals. The only other beast he knew possessed this same look of intrigue for fat, was Benjamin Clawhauser.
“*Hic-hilp*, what do you want?”
“You no longer owe me a box of donuts.” The wolf popped the fry into his mouth, grinning back at the fox as he chewed. “You owe me triple the amount.”
Comments
CollinthePoodle
Happy you liked it x3. Going to be taking a break from writing Nick and Diane for a few weeks though. Give other characters a chance to be chosen in polls.
Trigger The Chu
You know me, Collin. Any content with Nick is already an A+ to me.
Borusa Ryalam
Goodness, more like Nick WHALE, now~ 🧡
