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Late Night Fun In The Beya, Part 7 (Final)
Late Night Fun In The Beya

Part 7


Gutcrazy aka Frank

[Copyright Notice: Copyright © Frank 2013. This publication shall not be sold, resold or hired out for profit. It may be copied, downloaded, printed and otherwise circulated free of charge without the author’s prior consent. Enquiries should be sent to tomkilaras@gmail.com.]

26. Accidentally One Night

We returned to the beya and life continued much as it had done before our wedding and honeymoon. Training and tournaments resumed. Our Saturday “blow-up” parties resumed with even more reckless abandon. There were a lot of weddings during that momentous spring and summer. One by one, Reiko’s girls married the men of their dreams. Upon returning from their honeymoons, each couple moved into married quarters and this necessitated much reconstruction of the Ginza Beya. The Shinjuku Beya similarly saw all of its members move into married quarters.

Chocho-san and I were now accustomed to using helium for self-inflation on Saturday and nights and other festive occasions. I, personally, thought that the use of helium felt no different from the use of compressed air but Chocho-san felt otherwise and I still could not dissuade him of this notion. He dreamed of floating and what harm is there in a little fantasy?

One Saturday night in early autumn, we were gathered in the common room, for our weekly belly-related pleasures. It was a very warm evening for the time of year. We devoured pizza and drank whisky with gluttonous abandon, as was our wont. We called for our personal assistants to bring in the inflation equipment. The hypodermic needles were attached to the cylinders of gas and plunged into vast paunches. The valves of the cylinders were opened. The room filled with the hiss of escaping gas, which I found so erotically stimulating. Bellies started to swell. The men lay back, in order to enjoy the blissful delights of bodily expansion. The girls set about their usual amorous foreplay with their husbands. I rolled towards Chocho-san, so that we could envoy the feeling of our growing bellies pressing more and more tightly into each other. The room filled with soft laughter and groans of delight at the enjoyment of so much flesh in a relatively confined space.

Suddenly, there was a huge and violent jolt. It felt as if the entire beya had fallen about six feet. The men let out a startled yell and the girls screamed. The delicate wood and paper panels of the interior of the beya were all trembling. An overwhelmingly loud noise swept through the beya. It sounded like an out-of-control freight train. The ground beneath us started to rumble. Seconds later, I could have sworn that the ground was undulating, as if made of some soft and pliable material. We knew instantly what to do, as all who live in Japan are regularly drilled for occasions such as this. We tried to get to our feet in order to run out into the open but we didn’t find it an easy thing to do now that our bellies were much bigger than usual. None of us thought to turn off the gas or to rip the hypodermic needles from our bellies. Earthquake drills, even in the age of supasumo, recreational inflation and the Big Belly Clubs, quite simply didn’t instruct people what to do, if an earthquake struck in the middle of a “blow-up” party. We struggled and struggled to get up but only found ourselves rolling helplessly around on the floor like a bunch of overinflated balloons. The girls rushed to assist their men. Chocho-san and I tried to help each other up but to no avail.

We soon realized that the walls and ceiling of the beya were starting to fall apart. Chunks of plaster were starting to rain down on us. The cylinders of gas toppled one after another. The imagined consequences of this were terrifying. How could such big-bellied men as us reach down to the floor to turn of the gas? In our panic, it never occurred to us that we could bring our inflation to an end by merely ripping out the hypodermic needles. We had always turned off the valve first. It had never occurred to us that we could, in an emergency, remove the needle before turning off the valve. In this state of heavenly bliss, it had never occurred to us that a disaster such as this could have interrupted our pleasure.

Sections of the wall fell on top of us. The entire ceiling collapsed. Feeling that this was the end of this life, I reached out and took Chocho-san by the hand. The thought flashed through my mind, that if there was another life after this, then Chocho-san was the partner that I would want for all eternity. And then there was darkness and silence…

Sometime later, I found myself waking up as from a deep sleep. All around us pandemonium reigned. The entire beya had collapsed and the men and Reiko’s girls were all buried beneath the rubble. The smell of burning filled the air and made me panic for a few moments. But I was soon aware that our beya had merely caved in on top of us and had not caught fire. I tried to move my legs but realized that they were pinned down by something. I tried to raise my upper body a little on my elbow, in order to see what was preventing me from moving my legs. As my line of vision lifted, my eyes were confronted by the monstrous orb of flesh that my belly had grown into during my lack of consciousness. I looked around for my gas cylinder, which had not merely toppled but was now buried and lost beneath our broken beya. I then had the bright idea of ripping the hypodermic needle out of my belly, but I found that my paunch had inflated to such vast proportions that the needle and the tube were well out of reach of my hands. I lay back, inflating like a gigantic weather balloon. In the dim moonlight that refracted over the tops of skyscrapers, it was hard to tell how far my belly stretched above me. The pale light danced across its vast curvature as it heaved up and down in time with my laboured breathing. Memories of the earthquake returned to me. I regained the presence of mind to realize how lucky we were to live in a building constructed out of the light and pliable wood and paper panels, which had been Japan’s principal building materials in more traditional times. I wondered what had happened to other residents of or beya. I looked to my side and found Chocho-san’s hand was still in mine and that his paunch seemed to be as huge as mine. The other men’s bellies were also monstrously inflated.

I could hear groans of pain and gasps of disbelief as other men and girls regained consciousness. I could hear sirens wailing, men shouting and dogs barking. There were flashing lights. I was relieved to realize that the emergency services were close at hand.

“Ah, my belly!” screamed one of the suparikishi. “Help me! I’m going to explode!”

“I’m going to burst!” yelled another man. “Stick a knife in my belly, before I pop!”

“Just relax!” I called out to reassure them. “The police and ambulances are here!”

“Ooh! What’s happened?” gasped Chocho-san, as he suddenly regained consciousness. Then he looked around and yelled, “Oh my belly! It’s huge!”

“It’s alright,” I reassured him, “We’ve just had a slight mishap at our ‘blow-up’ party. Help has arrived.”

“But look at us!” he cried in panic. “We’re like a couple of weather balloons full of helium! We could float away and drift into space and be lost for ever… and die!”

“Have you ever seen a half-ton balloon?” I asked him.

“No!” was his laconic reply.

“Well, there you are then,” I reassured him. “We can just lie still and wait to be rescued.” Although I had no doubt that we were in no imminent danger of floating away, I had in mind a more likely fear, which I did not share with my lover for fear of terrorizing him further. I thought that we were in greater danger of exploding. Strangely, the possibility of this fate did not greatly perturb me. I just lay back and thought to myself, “Yes, but what a glorious way to go!”

“Quick! Over here!” snapped a harsh voice. “My rikishi need help straightaway. Rip those tubes and needles out of their bellies. And make sure that you don’t burst any of them! They’re my most valuable assets.” I realized that it was Tanaka-san.

Police officers clamber up onto each other’s shoulders, in order to reach across vastly distended bellies and remove the hypodermic needles. The hissing of gas escaping from valves was now augmented by the hissing of air escaping from puncture wounds in blown up bellies. Sighs of relief came from all around us, as our comrades bellies started to slowly shrink back to their normal size. The terror in the face of impending death was suddenly gone and men were sighing, because once again they could draw breath without the fear of exploding and dying.

“Tanaka-san…” gasped Chocho-san. “Help me, help me, before I burst.”

“What have you boys been up to now?” asked Tanaka-san with a sly grin spreading across his lips.

“Please,” pleaded Chocho-san. “I’m getting far too big.”

“These two are a special case,” Tanaka-san shrieked at a group of police officers. I saw him take something out of the breast pocket of his jacket and hand something to two of the police officers. I was puzzled as to why he would be handing meishi to a couple of police officers in this darkness. And then I realized that he had not handed them meishi but something else. This realization left me torn between delight and despair. On the one hand, it meant that relief from our plight was not as close as I had expected. On the other hand, my shaft swelled up in anticipation of what I thought that Tanaka-san might have in mind.

“When you pull the needles out of these two,” he commanded, “slap these puncture-repair patches on them to stop them deflating. I want them the way that they are.”

Under Tanaka-san’s continued directions, the police officers ran and fetched two ladders and propped them against Chocho-san and my vastly distended paunches. The gas inside us reverberated, as men clambered on top of our bellies. They removed the needles and applied the patches to the puncture wounds. “So, this is it,” I thought. “We’re going to be stuck like this for ever. What earthly use can we be to Tanaka like this? We can’t possible fight like this.”

We all lay in silence, while the rescue services did their work. Slowly the debris that prevented us from being moved was lifted away. Some of the men and girls were put inside ambulances and taken to hospital. We were relieved to be informed that there were no injuries other than minor cuts and contusions, at least amongst the residents of the beya. I remember feeling that it was such a blessing that we lived in a lightly constructed, traditional-style beya. Most of Tokyo’s residents fared far worse than we had done. Chocho-san and I lay in silence for the rest of the night, wondering when it would be our turn to be taken from the scene of the disaster.

As the light of the morning sun started to spread across the sky two huge flatbed trucks, of the kind used to transport traditional Japanese houses whole, pulled up outside the remains of our beya. At Tanaka-san’s command, all of the rescue workers gathered around Chocho-san and me and lifted us. They moved us, a few feet at a time, towards the two flatbed trucks. The ambulances were not equipped with stretchers big enough to bare us but they managed to slide a couple of ladders under each of us, in order to make the lifting easier. The constant movement made our colossally distended bellies quiver seductively. With one final and monumental effort, the emergency workers hauled the two of us up onto the trucks. Our bulging flanks were wedged tightly against the sides of the flatbeds. Once Tanaka-san was satisfied that his precious cargo was safely positioned, he ordered the tailgates to be closed and locked. The sides and the tailgates were high enough to hide our heads and limbs but our mountainous bellies towered high above us for all to see. A few minutes later we heard the engines of the trucks start up and we slowly proceeded to our unknown destination.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, groups of people ventured out onto the streets to assess the extent of the damage caused by the earthquake and to see if there was any possibility of going about their daily business. The two flatbed trucks with their curious cargo became the object of much attention. As we were trucked through streets of central Tokyo, we could hear bystanders questioning and commenting about the strange sight. “Oh, look at that… What are they?... I’ve never seen anything like it… It’s like Kamihara’s belly but bigger… Don’t be silly… Yes, it is… It’s a couple of gigantic bellies… No… Not even Kamihara’s belly is that big…”

Finally, the inquisitive voices were no more to be heard. The silence told us that we were no longer on a public thoroughfare. I heard what I presumed to be a gate being unbolted and opened. As the truck moved forwards again, we came into some vast structure with a very high ceiling. It was difficult for me to make any clearer assessment than this about where we had been brought to. When your belly’s the size of a mountain, it’s hard to see past it. The trucks finally came to a halt and the tailgates were unbolted and opened. Where, I wondered, had we been brought to?

27. The Exhibition

After an eternity of waiting, we were aware that there was suddenly a large number of men present. We soon heard Tanaka-san’s voice barking commands at them. The men were in Tanaka-san’s employ. They swarmed over the flatbed trucks and grunted and groaned as they moved us inch by inch off the trucks. Moving us off the trucks seemed to be much more difficult than moving us onto them had been. As we were unloaded from the trucks, planks and ladders were shoved beneath us to give the men something easier to grab hold of than our soft and flabby flesh. We were eventually placed on top of two massive futons. We were put sitting upright and facing each other with our huge, round bellies pressed against each other. As our gigantic bellies met, my shaft rose to attention and warm love-juice started to ooze down my thigh. It was now possible to see that we were inside a vast sports stadium. It was, in fact, the stadium located next door to the Shinjuku Beya.

Over the next few days, the sports stadium, which was to be our domicile for some time to come, was a frenzied hive of activity. Partitions and cordons were installed for reasons, which we could not begin to imagine. Feeding tubes were installed and from this we could only assume that Tanaka-san wanted us heavier. Our stomachs were pumped to bursting pointed with liquidized food six times a day. Various signs were erected, including one which read 世界の一番大きい腹 (Sekai no ichiban ōkii hara, The Biggest Bellies in the World). It was only then that Chocho-san and I realized that Tanaka-san intended to put us on display like a couple of circus freaks. Although the thought of growing even bigger filled me with rapturous delight, what lay ahead was nothing like the glorious world of sumo and the adoration, to which we had become accustomed.

At night, we were fitted with catheters to drain away the gallons of man-juiced that ran from our constantly aroused members. Having our two vast guts wedged constantly together caused us to be in a constant state of orgasm. Whenever we were left alone, we would thrust our bellies into each other. We even found ourselves belly-bumping in our sleep. Despite the never-ending waves of delight that pulsated through our voluminous abdominal regions, we found ourselves frequently in dread of the day, when we would finally be exhibited to the public for the first time.

One evening, Tanaka-san came to announce to us that his “greatest enterprise yet was to be unveiled to the public tomorrow morning”, as he so euphemistically described his circus act. I could not help thinking that Tanaka-san, who had presented to Japan and the world the sublime heights of manly endeavour, both in terms of virile combative virtues and of the cultivation of the perfect male physique, was about to sink to the depraved depths of a circus master. I started to wonder if Tanaka-san’s behaviour was starting to spin out of control. Chocho-san and I slept fitfully that night.

The next morning, we were fed and then decked out in costly silk mawashi. We were given our final briefing by Tanaka-san. Then the main entrance to the stadium was unbolted and opened. We could tell immediately that there was a huge throng of people queuing to be the first to participate in a new pastime, which quickly became known as harami or “belly-viewing”. A tour guide led them through the entranceway to the stadium. We could hear him explaining to the first group of visitors that we were Chocho-san and Kamihara. He went on to give detailed biographical information about the pair of us. As he choreographed the crowd to walk around us in a circle demarcated by rope cordons, he expounded upon our achievements in sumo and then in supasumo. He finally unhooked one of the links of rope and led the crowd closer to us. He regaled them with facts and figures about the unprecedented growth, which we had achieved, listing one record after another. He finished by giving them our current girth and weight, which, of course, were constantly increasing. The tourists were finally encouraged to feel the biggest bellies in the world with their own hands.

After a month or so of exhibiting Chocho-san and me as museum pieces, Tanaka-san seemed to become obsessed with making even more money out of his “greatest enterprise”. He seemed to be constantly preoccupied with the notion that, if we were even bigger, he could charge visitors more money to view us or that more people would come to gaze upon our ever-increasing bulk. Every evening, workers would wheel in gas cylinders and pump a little more wind into our abdominal cavities. This went on for months on end. Our ever-growing girths brought us immense amorous delights but we felt some disappointment that we were now viewed as inanimate objects rather than as adored champions of the most spectacularly beautiful of all combative sports. We both found a philosophical resolution for our dissatisfaction with being on display like animals in a zoo in the unending joy that each of us found in being married to such a magnificent and majestic man. Whatever else life might throw at us, ours was a match made in heaven. There was no disappointment in life that could mar our marital bliss.

28. Divine Wind

The personal records of Frank Smith, alias Gaikokujin, alias Kamihara, cease at this point. Selected extracts from the diary of Junichiro Tanaka, referred to above as Tanaka-san, are given below.

Last night, I received telephone calls from the Shinjuku Beya and the emergency services. I was asked to proceed to the Shinjuku Stadium, because some strange mishap had taken place there. Upon arrival, I could see that the building had been severely damaged and that the roof had somehow been lifted off the building. The police officers informed me that, as far as they could ascertain, a mini-typhoon had ripped the roof off the building and sucked out most of its contents. I asked them if the occupants of the building were safe. They said that there was no one inside the building. I told them that Chocho-san and Kamihara were inside the stadium. They insisted that there was no one inside the building, certainly not two huge men like Chocho-san and Kamihara. I explained that they both spent every night in the stadium. Upon hearing this they posted a “missing-persons” alert and started a search for my two champion wrestlers. When the police had finished questioning me and I had provided them with descriptions and recent photographs of my men, I went over to the Shinjuku Beya. The men of the beya described how they had heard a fearful wind. A couple of the men were in the garden at the time. They said that they saw a tornado come down out of the sky and suck up the roof and contents of the stadium. When I asked, if Chocho-san and Kamihara had been sucked up by the tornado, they said that they did not know, because it was dark and the sky was full of flying debris. When I asked these men to think more carefully about what they saw, one of them made an extremely insolent remark. The fellow said, “This is kamikaze, divine wind, which has come to take Chocho-san and Kamihara. They were the flower of the nation’s manhood and you tried to turn them into a vulgar spectacle. But the kami have sent this divine wind to bare them to a new and glorious existence in the next world, where they will take their places amongst the blessed immortals.” I shall demote him to a menial position.

I could not bring myself to go to bed and rest last night because of the disaster. This morning the news on TV and in the newspaper revealed that a nightlong search had failed to locate Chocho-san and Kamihara. The failure of the police to find two such immense men is a clear sign of their incompetence.

News reports say that even now no trace of Chocho-san and Kamihara can be found. As the tornado only affected a small area, it is beyond belief that a thorough search has not been conducted. Shinjuku Stadium was the only building affected by the incident. How it can take the police forty-eight hours to search such a small area is absolutely incredible.

A group of Shinto priests came to see me this morning. Their purpose was to inform me that the Shinto priesthood believed that Friday night’s disaster had occurred through divine intervention. It was their “enlightened” opinion that Chocho-san and Kamihara had been transported from this world to the next by the kami. They reasoned that the failure to find either of the two men, either dead, or alive was sufficient to prove that their assertion that this event was a miracle was the only logical conclusion that anyone could draw. I find it quite ridiculous that the search for Chocho-san and Kamihara might be brought to a premature conclusion by such mumbo-jumbo. Of course, it would not be in the best interests of any of my enterprises to express my lack of belief in Shinto publicly. I wonder if I could come to a financial arrangement with the Shinto priesthood. Perhaps the erection of a shrine on the site of the Shinjuku Stadium could profit both myself and the priesthood. Now that hope of finding my two most valuable assets is all but lost, perhaps the best outcome would be to have them declared kami.

My worst fears have been realized. The assertion of the Shinto priesthood that the disappearance of Chocho-san and Kamihara was by divine intervention has led to the search for them to be abandoned.

This morning I dictated a letter to the Shinto priesthood, in which I proposed that the elevation of Chocho-san and Kamihara to the status of kami and the erection of a shrine upon the site of the Shinjuku Stadium might be of considerable benefit both to Shinto and Japan. I indicated to them that, as owner of the land, on which such a shrine would be built, I would show them eternal generosity.

A month has now passed since I wrote to the Shinto priesthood, inviting them have their part in an enterprise, which would greatly benefit Shinto. I have so far received no reply from the priesthood.

At last, the priests have sent me a reply. They indicated in no uncertain terms that Chocho-san and Kamihara were already kami and that the ceremony to acknowledge this fact did not require my assistance. However, they admitted to seeing the benefits of having a shrine dedicated to them on the site of the Shinjuku Stadium and that they would send me notification of their decision on this matter after due deliberation.

The New Year has arrived and these wretched priests have still not given a decision regarding the proposed shrine at the Shinjuku Stadium. I am surprised that they hesitate so much to benefit the Shinto faith with the erection of a shrine dedicated to the two most popular kami in the Shinto pantheon. It is no wonder that fewer and fewer people believe in Shinto these days.

Another month has passed and, still, no decision has been given.

Yet another month without a decision. These priests are tedious.

I watched the coverage of Vernal Equinox Day after the news on TV this evening. Astronomers informed the nation that two new heavenly bodies have been observed recently. In view of the impending deification of Chocho-san and Kamihara, the announcement of this momentous finding has been deliberately timed to fall upon this most auspicious of days. It is infuriating that the priests have not consulted me about this matter after the generous offer, at which I have hinted. The Shinto priests, who were invited to participate in the televised discussion, insisted that these two new heavenly bodies were in fact Chocho-san and Kamihara. Pictures shown during the programme and in several newsflashes made these two new celestial objects appear to be a strikingly different shape from all the other stars in the sky. The programme finished with an invitation to viewers to send in suggestions as to what astronomers should call the two new objects in the sky. It was announced that a telephone poll of the best names would be conducted on Tuesday next week.

I went to the observatory this evening to see what light their staff could shed upon these two new “heavenly bodies”. I saw them for myself through one of the telescopes at the observatory and the two objects certainly bear a striking resemblance to Chocho-san and Kamihara. When I returned home, I watched the late news on TV, where it was announced that the names so far submitted as possible appellations for the two newly discovered celestial objects included “Chocho-san and Kamihara”, “The Rikishi” and “The Suparikishi”.

As a new and popular name for the two new heavenly bodies has been submitted to the nation’s astronomers, the telephone vote about the name has been postponed to a week from tomorrow. The newly suggested name is Amanohara (天の腹) and it means the Celestial Bellies. One of the Shinto priests claimed that the name was indicative of the abundance and prosperity, which the new heavenly bodies would bring to Japan and the wider world. I find this new name to be ridiculous. The religious claptrap of these priests is of no economic benefit to the nation.

At last, there has been a TV telephone poll of the nation to choose a name for the two new “heavenly bodies”. The name “Chocho-san and Kamihara” scored lowest of all, probably because it is too long and the priests have said that it smacks too much of this world to be acceptable amongst those who still practice and believe in Shinto. By far the favourite name was Amanohara. No doubt, its similarity to another feature of the night sky and the approval of the priests ensured that it would score well in excess of 80% of the vote.

It is Constitution Memorial Day and it is the middle of Golden Week. The Shinto priests have still not shown the good grace to take up my generous offer to accommodate a shrine to Amanohara on the land once occupied by the Shinjuku Stadium. Reports on the television news and my frequent visits to the observatory show that the Amanohara have increased considerably in size over past month or so. They are now visible to the naked eye. Telescopes have become a fashionable craze in Japan and other countries because of these two new objects in the night sky. I have to admit that it is becoming more and more difficult to deny that the Amanohara are Chocho-san and Kamihara. Astronomers at the observatory inform me that they are now both well in excess of half a million miles in circumference. They we my most lucrative wrestlers. I trained them and turned them into the greatest sporting heroes in the history of Japan. The glory should belong to me and not to these useless priests.

I have received a communication from the Diet through my legal team, which advises me that an Imperial Edict has been issued requiring that the Diet acquire the grounds of the Shinjuku Stadium from me by means of compulsory purchase for the benefit of the nation. A date has been set for the official “deification” ceremony and the acquisition of my property and the construction of the shrine are to be scheduled, so that the ceremony can take place on an auspicious chosen date. There are reports of increased attendance of Shinto shrines all over the country and of mass conversions to Shinto all over the world. Japan’s greatest influx of tourists ever is expected for the deification ceremony with several million expatriate Japanese, newly converted foreigners and merely curious people forecast to arrive here in August this year. It is beyond my comprehension how any gaikokujin can be accepted as a convert to Shinto. These scheming priests are greedy for financial gain and glory. How dare they tell others to put the interests of the nation first?

Today the Amanohara Jinja or Shrine was consecrated and opened. Hundreds of thousands of people flocked to the spectacle but only a privileged few were allowed close enough to see and hear the ceremony. As Chocho-san and Kamihara are now one of the more conspicuous features of the night sky, massive conversions to Shinto continue to be reported from around the globe. The population of Tokyo is already about two million greater than usual with yet another million expected to arrive from abroad and from the provinces over the next week. The media keep repeating that the week of festivities from the consecration of the Shrine to the deification of my two suparikishi is the biggest event in the history of Japan. Everywhere Chocho-san-and-Kamihara souvenirs are to be bought. There are numerous tours of the sites associated with the pair and tourists eagerly pay exorbitant fees for all of them. The theatres are all staging productions about the lives of Chocho-san and Kamihara. Restaurants and other food outlets are advertising all-you-can-eat buffets with the challenge that their customers should see if they can come anywhere near matching the legendary gluttony of my two greatest suparikishi. Breweries are marketing “Amanohara” beers. One such brewery has the advertising slogan: “You’ve seen the rikishi, you’ve read the book, now get the physique.” All this is over a couple of big bellies. The whole world is indulging in the glorification of gluttony and greed. People across the country now seem to be devoted to nothing but worldly profit.

Today is the day of the “deification”. These priests are so arrogant. It is I who made these two men into living gods. The apotheosis took place on Friday 14 October last year. Today’s ceremony is merely an acknowledgement of what happened on that date. These Shinto priests are no better than the priests of foreign religions. They seek to persuade their flocks, that it is they, who manipulate their gods. They seek to put their own words into the mouths of the kami. They have chosen the eighth day of the eighth month as the auspicious date of the “deification” because the gullible believe eight to be the luckiest of all numbers. Friday 14 October was the auspicious date, on which the kami chose to include Chocho-san and Kamihara amongst most revered and illustrious of their number. The ceremony itself was simple and elegant, as befits a Shinto ritual but, for me it was marred by the speech given by the priest, who officiated over this unnecessary but lucrative ritual. The evening newspaper reported the following extract from his sycophantic speech:

“We are gathered here today in the Amanohara Jinja, which was consecrated just over a week ago to formally mark the entry into the abode of the most illustrious kami of the two suparikishi, known to the world by their professional names of Chocho-san and Kamihara. This is in actual fact merely the date chosen to formally acknowledge with due pomp and ceremony their apotheosis, which was expedited by the miraculous intervention of the other kami on Friday 14 October in the 34th year of the reign of Heisei. That date shall henceforth be known as Amanohara no Hi and shall be a national holiday.

“Amongst many of the peoples of the world, the belly has been regarded as a symbol of abundance, fertility, wealth, good fortune and happiness. Because of these associations many nations and cultures in East Asia have long held the belief that a fat man brings good luck and wealth to the businessmen, who serve him. One of our most loved gods, Hotei, also known as Budai, is always depicted with a huge paunch. He is the god of happiness, plenitude and contentment. He is the best loved and most familiar of our Seven Lucky Gods. Tradition says that merely rubbing his belly is certain to bring wealth. In East Asia, we do not frown upon a man with a big belly, as is commonly done in the West. In Japan, we recognise the physical and spiritual advantage that such great men and kami possess. As you can see, Chocho-san and Kamihara were endowed with the greatest bellies ever seen in this world and they continue to grow after their translation to the blessed realm of the kami. It is plain for all to see, that they have brought prosperity and happiness to the people of Japan and to growing numbers of people in other nations around the world.

A few days ago a divination ceremony was conducted here at the Amanohara Jinja. The kami saw fit to reveal that they put the name of Amanohara, which, for those unfamiliar with Japanese, means the Celestial Bellies, into the minds of mortal men. We have not chosen this name ourselves but the name has been handed down to us by the guidance of the kami. Their translation into the heavenly realm will usher in an age of peace and prosperity for all humankind. The evidence of these blessings can already be seen in Japan and around the world. The divination also revealed that the kami, the buddhas and the angels are now continually ministering to their needs. They will feed them and increase their bulk by other means. As they grow bigger, so they will exert a greater influence upon the lives of men, in order to bring growing contentment and blessings to all. When the Celestial Bellies have filled the entire universe, the era, which will be called Amanoheiwa (天の平和), or Heavenly Peace will begin. All people people, kami, buddhas, angels, rehabilitated demons, animals and plants will dwell in peace and prosperity for evermore upon the Celestial Bellies. There will be no more death, sickness, disease or other misfortunes to mar their eternal happiness…”

As this priest’s sanctimonious speech continued interminably, I could not help asking myself how he could claim all of this divine generosity had anything to do with religion, when it was I, who had given to all the sentient beings ever created, this eternal gift of peace and prosperity…

[After this entry the diary of Junichiro Tanaka descends into the incoherence of insanity.]

29. Postlude

Below is a transcript from the video diary of Michiko and Tatsuro Fukushima. The recording was made on Monday, 15 November Owa 23 (2123AD). Michiko and Tatsuro are walking home with their five-year-old-son Jun. It is the Japanese festival of Shichi-go-san. Michiko and Tatsuro have taken Jun to the Amanohara Jinja and then spent the late afternoon and early evening at a Shichi-go-san party at Jun’s school. It is the first time that Jun has ever been outside after nightfall. Tatsuro operated the video camera.

Michiko: Come on, Jun, hurry up! It’s getting quite cold now that it’s dark.

Jun: What are those? [Jun points towards the sky above a park near their home.]

Michiko: Well, dear, what are all of those little twinkly ones? There and there and there... [She points at different parts of the sky.

Jun: [Loudly.] Stars!

Michiko: Yes, darling, that’s right. And what about the big, round one over their? [She points.]

Jun: The moon…

Michiko: Yes, that’s right. And can you see the hare in the moon?

Jun: What hare?

Michiko: Can you see him. He’s upside-down. [She points.] There’s his head and there’s his body. You see how his feet are up in the air? And his ears are folded back underneath his back.

Jun: Ooh… How did he get up there?

Michiko: You remember that story, silly boy…

Jun: No… Tell me… How did he get there?

Michiko: He was teasing a bull… And the bull got angry… You remember?

Jun: No… Tell me…

Michiko: The bull got angry… And he tossed the hare up in the air with his big horns… And the hare landed on his back on the moon… And he’s been there ever since… Remember?

Jun: No! [His eyes survey the night sky.] And there’s two more moons… Two great big moons!

Michiko: No, silly boy, they’re not moons.

Jun: Big moons!

Michiko: No, they’re the Celestial Bellies. Can Jun say that? “The Celestial Bellies.”

Jun: [He utters a number of indecipherable syllables.]

Michiko: Hmm… Difficult, eh? That’s what they call them in England and America… We’re supposed to call them Amanohara. Do you remember the story?

Jun: No!

Michiko: [She points.] That one is Chocho-san.

Jun: Aah…

Michiko: And you know who the other one is… You know his name…

Jun: No!

Michiko: Yes, you do. You remember the one with the beautiful pink skin like the sakura blossom… He came all the way from England.

Jun: Chocho-san!

Michiko: No the other one is Kamihara… You remember the story…

Jun: No…

Tatsuro: You remember, son… You remember the story of the first two grand champions of supasumo, don’t you?

Jun: No, daddy.

Tatsuro: Yes, you do… Kamihara came from England and they both fought for the Ginza Beya. You remember.

Jun: Then what?

Tatsuro: Soon they became the first two suparikishi to become grand champions. Remember?

Jun: Hmm…

Tatsuro: And they were the biggest men, who ever lived… Look at how big they are now…

Michiko: And they never died. One day the kami just took them up into the heavenly regions, so that we can all admire them. Aren’t they beautiful?

Jun: And what do they do? [He pointed into the sky.] Up there?

Michiko: Well, dear, they make peace and prosperity for everyone.

Jun: Peace and p-p-p-… [Jun could not pronounce the second word.]

Michiko: It’s because of Chocho-san and Kamihara that everyone is so happy.

Jun: [With a “big-belly” gesture.] They’re so big!

Michiko: Yes, dear.

Jun: Like Tanizaki-san!

Tatsuro: No, son, they’re much bigger than Tanizaki-san. They’re a long, long way away… They’re further away than the moon or the sun… They’re huge! [He removes the camera from his eye and spreads his hands as wide apart as possible.]

Jun: How big?

Tatsuro: As big as a giant planet... Bigger than that, even.

Jun: How did they get so big?

Michiko: The kami, the buddhas and the angels are constantly feeding them...

Tatsuro: And they blow their bellies up as well with a Belly Inflation Kit.

Jun: Belly [Several meaningless syllables…] Kit.

Tatsuro: A B. I. K., like Tanizaki-san from next door has…

Jun: Ooh?

Tatsuro: You’ve seen Tanizaki-san and his friends playing with their Belly Inflation Kits in the garden on Sundays.

Jun: Hmm… Nice…

Tatsuro: So, you like that?

Jun: Yeah… How big will the get?

Michiko: Well, dear, the priests tell us that they will grow until they fill the entire universe…

Jun: Uni… Uni…

Michiko: U-ni-verse… They will keep growing until they fill all of space… And then we will all be very happy…

Jun: I want to be a suparikishi!

Tatsuro: What? Like Chocho-san and Kamihara?

Jun: No! No!

Michiko: Then, who do you want to be like, dear?

Jun: I want to be… I want to be Kamihara!

Source: http://groups.yahoo.com/neo/groups/DHTnGutGroup/files/Frank%27s%20Belly%20Stories/
Category: fantasy | Added by: Shotha (2013-12-27) | Author: Gutcrazy aka Frank E
Views: 3524 | Tags: gaining, Inflation, belly-worship, SUMo | Rating: 0.0/0
Total comments: 0
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