Looking For a Certain Type

A Glut Walks Into a Bar

Before long, it was the day of Colt's get-together. He was most certainly fatter by then, at least by 15 pounds, and everything was fitting more snugly on him. Anything that would be considered a size small would start to really stretch seams on him, and mediums were showing just how fat he'd gotten. To give his belly some room, he wore a loose fitting size large shirt to the bar, along with loose jeans.

Walking into the bar, he saw his friends sitting at a group of seats across the bar itself. They saw him and did a quick double take before he waved and walked over to sit with them.

"Damn bro, you got fat!" Brian said in awe.

"Yeah," Colt replied happily.

"It looks good on you, though, huh?" Harry said.

Colt nodded and got himself a beer before they all started catching up with each other. It only took two pints for him to get drunk and start ordering food, which made his friends, at that point drunk as well, laugh. He ordered a large loaded fries and a basket of chicken strips, half-knowing that he would be getting a lot more. When the food arrived, he nibbled on it while they talked about old hijinks they pulled on each other, starting to really eat after a couple minutes.

The chicken strips and fries were gone by the time his third beer was finished, so he bought a round for his friends and himself more food, this time two pounds of buffalo chicken wings. He was just barely aware that he was full because he could hear his belly gurgling and feel it weighing him down, but he took advantage of the fact that the alcohol was dulling his feeling of fullness and got two half-pound burgers.

His friends quickly found out that drunk Colt was a massive glutton, eating anything he could get his hands on. The usually sickeningly greasy (to most people, anyway) and incredibly fattening bar food was starting to stretch Colt's belly along with the amount of beer bubbling away in it.

Everything went fuzzy for Colt after he finished his fifth pint, but his friends remembered exactly what happened because it blew their drunk-ass minds so much. Another bar patron, very much less drunk than Colt was, challenged him to a sort of eating contest. Even though he was clearly full, he accepted due to the fact that he couldn't feel it.

The challenger bought each of them the entire menu and they sat at different but close together tables waiting for the food. When it all arrived, one of the challenger's friends (presumably) counted down from three. Both Colt's and the challenger's friends started to cheer as they began racing to finish all the food in front of them, and Colt seemed to instantly be losing. He wasn't eating as fast as the other guy was, and his friends looked at him confusedly. He looked up and winked, letting his friends know that, even while blackout drunk, he could make a plan.

His friends saw his plan realized when, as soon as the challenger started slowing down, he started eating faster and faster. Food started disappearing at alarming rates while the challenger was just barely still eating. Then, his friends noticed that almost the whole bar, including a couple bartenders and servers, was watching the two essentially battling it out unconventionally. They had all picked sides and were chanting and cheering for their pick, causing the sound to be a dull roar.

Eventually, somehow, Colt finished all of the food in front of him while the challenger still had a couple half-eaten items left. Then, just to feel even more triumphant than he was for eating more quicker than a fatter man, he stuck out his hand in the other's direction.

"Here, let me finish that for you," he said, slurring his words together.

Defeated and shocked, the guy handed over the food and Colt downed it before the crowd rooting for him exploded into a roaring cheer and he let out the biggest burp he ever had.

"'scuze me," he said, inaudible over the sound of his momentary supporters.

Afterwards, when the bar calmed down and he was back to chatting with his friends, everything came into mild focus for him and his memory the next morning would fade back in here. Apparently, having a belly so full you would, if you weren't wasted, be shocked to not have thrown up yet, will sober you up a little. Because the haze had cleared a little in his brain, he suddenly realized just how full he really was.

"Oh boy," he said, "I am absolutely stuffed right •hic• now..."

The rest of the night was totally hazy for all of them, as Colt downed another two pints to avoid the massive pain of being so full and his friends drank enough to black out as well. Their designated driver, who had been waiting in the car the entire time (if you're going to be drinking, have a driver who won't drink), said they were driving him crazy while he was dropping them off because of their laughing at random stuff.

Jenna, the next morning when Colt found himself on the couch with her laying on his belly, said that when he came home, his gut was still gurgling and looked painfully stuffing, so she helped him to the couch and rubbed his belly until they both fell asleep.

"I hope you enjoyed the food," she said, getting up to make him breakfast.