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Uncle Ralph
| My uncle Ralph was a great guy. He did all sorts of things for his community from setting up the stage from the preschoolers’ plays to doing handyman chores for the neighbors. Like most of my relatives, he lived just down the road from my parent’s house. Whenever I had some free time, I went down three houses to see my uncle. My uncle was only ten years older than I, so we were more like best friends than uncle and nephew. We did a lot of stuff together on the weekends. We went to the movies together. As he was a food critic, he took me out to dinner with him a lot. When I got to high school, I became his chief editor. Ralph was with me in the mall when I first saw Alice, my future girlfriend, and Ralph helped me pluck up the courage to finally ask Alice to date. Alice came to love Ralph as I did, for his compassion, jokes, and sincerity. Five years later, we were married and living happily in an apartment in the city. One night, Ralph had been out seeing some of his school friends. He drove home, and was hit by a drunk driver. Ralph died on the way to the hospital. The only good news was that my uncle had willed all of his possession to me. Alice and I moved into his house a few days after the funeral. The two of us kept most everything where it was, as we enjoyed it so much. We took all the things we couldn’t use, like his 4 XL shirts and put them in the attic. Alice and I agreed that we would throw it out when we felt we could bear to remove it. I was cleaning up the office, when I discovered a pile of reviews he had wanted to edit. I found myself going threw them all and editing, embellishing whenever I recalled something memorable he had forgotten. Knowing that it would be a while to find a new food critic, I decided to drop them off at Ralph’s office, as soon as I finished working in retailing that day. Ralph’s editor, Mark, was quite pleased at the pile of papers. "We can use these until we find a new critic,” he said. "Not that your uncle was ever that critical.” "Yeah, he had this passion of food, which easy to catch,” I replied. "He said that you were his editor, that you always had your own bits to add to his column which set each restaurant apart. I’ve got reservations to this Japanese restaurant, why don’t you go there tonight? Then just turn in a review of it by Friday, and we’ll see if you can be our next editor?” I took two business cards from Mark. One was to contact him, and the other was for the restaurant itself. The next day I was completely distracted about getting my chance to be in the paper that I sold very little clothing. After work, Alice and I jumped in a car and drove off for an evening out. The restaurant had a wonderful atmosphere, and as sampled everything off the menu, I realized how well crafted each food was. I stayed up late into the night, writing my article. When I returned to it the next day, I found that it was too long that I was too passionate for each dish, so I had to carefully read over it all until I finally got it down to a rather concise page. My descriptions of the succulent dishes got me hungry, and I ended up visiting the fridge a few times. I dropped it off on the way to work, and soon learned that I was a food critic, leaving behind my job as a saleperson. Three months of eating all sorts of foods finally caught up with me. My once slim figure was now beginning to inflate a little around the middle. I was thinking of joining a gym to counter this, but I realized that I enjoyed fiddling with the layer of fat while I worked. The layer grew thicker and wider. Finally, I had to buy some new clothing to cover the new development. Alice seemed to be enjoying it too, as she also would play with it. She started grabbing my slim love handles during our passionate evenings, but never commented on it. I also noticed that I was not the only one who was changing due to the new career, Alice was careful not to overeat and stay petite, but Mark was beginning to grow. His loose shirt had become tight, and his belt was now buckled a few holes further out. I was really beginning to enjoy the gradual growth when my weigh gain began to stop. I really liked my drooping gut, and the breasts that were beginning to rest on my expanded chest. I thought my ballooning bottom and large love handles were wonderful, but I wanted more. I was beginning to realize why my uncle was so large. It was not from being a food critic. It was because he wanted to be so large and took advantage of the free food. I consulted Alice on my goal to keep growing and we came up with a plan. First, I had to expand my food hold. This meant drinking a lot of water, stuffing myself, and evening massages. I wanted to be bigger, but I would have to take my time with it by filling up on foods not to unhealthy for me. Secondly, I did a lot of studies on metabolism. I realized that my morning binges, where actually helping my metabolism. Soon, I was having a rather small lunch for me, or a feast for most. Dinners, as they were free, were my main meals. I would stuff myself until I would bloat like a balloon. After the usual passionate times with Alice, I would slip off and have another meal and then pass out. Soon enough, I was off buying some new pants and shirts to cover those new fabulous pounds. I enjoyed how much my stomach stretched outward, downward, and to the sides. My chest bore two thick appendages, which fell onto the hairy gut bellow. My thighs were like two inverted triangles, connecting my colossal core to my lean legs.. My arms were like my legs, thick at the base and normal further down. My fingers and toes had become stubby. My neck was thickened, but hidden under numerous layers of lard. My face was round and smooth, with thick mounds for cheeks whenever I grinned. A few weeks later, I dropped off a pile to articles to Mark, my newly XL boss. He accepted the pile of papers, grasping them firmly to his new gut, and then handed me a list of restaurants for the week. "I know it’s nearly empty, but you have reviewed every restaurant in town, so you’ll just have to wait for a new place to open up to get another free meal.” I got home and went to bed. The next few weeks were bleak. I felt that just as I was back on my gluttonous path that this detour came on the way. I also felt useless without my column, for after a few projects here and there, I realized there was little else in my life. I did my share of volunteering in the area, but not a lot of people needed help. Then a letter arrived in the mail, which would break the monotony. It was a letter from New York, inviting me to work for a small newspaper there. After consultation with Alice, we agreed to move off to the city. Alice was pleased to go to the city and meet with thousands of other people who appreciated her art. New York offered thousands of restaurants to sample. Alice was enjoying the city. She had some much inspiration, so many other artists to talk with, and all sorts of art museums to explore. I finally reached 300 pounds and ended up weighing 320 pounds. I finally was big enough to wear Ralph’s old clothing. After a few years in the city, Alice and I decided to fly back to my parents for Christmas. My dad came to pick us up at the airport, and was surprise at my shape. "You look just like your uncle Ralph.” "I know.” Source: http://www.bigguts.com/forum/showthread.php?t=1382 | |
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