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Brokendestiny starring his own characters Tyson and Landon
My belly woke me that morning. It was ready to break the nightly fast. I instantly got out of bed. The first thing I saw was the calendar. Circled and written with red marker were the words “Hot Dog Eating Contest” on the day’s date. Reading it made me very excited. I quickly went to the bathroom and prepared myself for the day. Afterward, I went back into the bedroom and stood in the mirror. Wearing only boxers, I ogled my 6’5”/600lb body.
With my hands on my big beautiful belly, I said, “Tyson, you are one fine Doberman.”
I got myself dressed. I could see and feel that I’ve outgrown the clothes. My t-shirt was tight and struggled to cover half of my gut. My pants were so tight. I knew that after the next meal I had, there’d no longer be a button to fasten them. It was now almost noon, so it was time for me to go.
I squeezed into my car and drove across town to the site of the county fair. I squeezed out of my car. (I still can’t believe how much bigger I’ve gotten since I bought that car.) I could see that the place was already filled with furs, having fun. I entered the fair. All eyes were on me (as usual). Every fur there knew exactly why I was there. I walked a few feet forward. My good friend, known as Tubby T, called me. I turned to face him.
“Tyson, glad to see you’re here,” said the 5’10”/250lb tiger.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I sarcastically asked him.
“That’s true. You have won this contest 3 years in row,” Tubby realized. He pointed to the sign-in table and continued, “Now go sign up for the contest. It looks as if you might have some competition this year.”
I told him, “I wish you were my competition.”
He replied, “I do too, but you beat me at this 3 years ago.”
I sighed and said, “Yeah, but you were champion for 5 consecutive years before me.”
“That’s true,” Tubby responded as he patted his gut, “Maybe next year, but now I better get going, as well as you.”
Tubby left me as quickly as possible. His flab jiggled as he moved further into the crowd of furs. I chuckled to myself as I made my way to the sign-in table. All those who were there looked at me and gasped. As I progressed, they parted to make a path for me. I approached the table. Silence befell them all.
I heard one fur asked, “Who’s he?”
I heard another answered, “That’s Tyson, this competition’s reining champion.”
I grinned as I signed my name.
I turned around and then heard Tubby’s voice on the loudspeaker say, “The Hot Dog Eating Competition will begin in ten minutes.”
Again, I smile as I walk away from the table. I can hear the furs behind me rushing back to the table. I laughed and turned around to them.
I asked, “Really? None of you have the …” I jiggled my belly and continued, “… gut to challenge me?”
“I do,” said a small voice from one of the furs.
“Who do?” I wondered, “Then step up to the sign-in sheet.”
I looked though the crowd to see which of them accepted my challenge. I saw furs moves slightly aside to let whoever it was get passed them. I waited for two minutes for him to finally emerge.
“You gotta be joking,” I said as I looked down at the 4’5”/180lb-ish Shiba Inu. He had a flabby build and a look of severity on his face.
“I do not joke,” he said, “I, Landon, will be your downfall.”
“Whoa! Lighten up kid. It’s not that serious,” I replied, “It’s just an eating contest.”
Landon’s facial expression remained the same. He approached the table and had to stand on tiptoe to complete the form. I laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Landon sternly asked.
“Uh …” I went. Then I lied, “How every fur else who was in the contest scratched their names off the list.”
“I do see the humor in that,” agreed the small-statured dog, “None of them had the, how you say, gut to face you.”
“Well no offense, but neither does you,” I awkwardly noted.
“WHAT?” Landon angrily asked.
“No. I didn’t mean it like that,” I hastily tried to calm him, “I meant that your stomach, although great, isn’t big enough to handle eating the amount of hot dogs that it would take to beat me.”
He calmed and said, “We’ll see about that.”
We both look upward as we hear Tubby say, “Would the participants in today’s Hot Dog Eating Competition please report to the main stage pronto?”
Landon and I shared a look. It had to have meant for us the race to the main stage because he took off into the crowd. He disappeared into the group of furs. Awestruck, I just followed. The crowd again parted like the Red Sea as I moved through it to the main stage. As I walk, I nearly tripped over a fallen Landon. He shamefully looked up at me. I sympathetically looked down at him. I reached to him to help him off the ground. He smiled. I was surprised. It gave me an idea. I started to lift Landon.
“Hey, what are you doing?” the little dog asked.
“Just giving you a hand,” I told him.
As he rose higher, he yelled, “Put me down, you massive mutt.”
“I never heard that one before,” I said as I thought. I placed Landon onto my shoulder.
The little dog kept ranting. “I SAID PUT ME …” He stopped after he sat and said, “Hey, this might work. Thank you.”
“No problem,” I replied.
I made our way through the furs to the main stage. On it, Tubby stood beside a table with two chairs and a large pyramid of hot dogs on a platter upon it. I lowered Landon onto the stage and he took a seat as I went to sit in the other chair.
Tubby stood between us and talked into a microphone, “Alright guys, the rules are simple. Eat as many hot dogs, including buns, as you can in fifteen minutes. You are eliminated when you get too full to continue, or you throw up.”
“You sound like a game show host T,” I said.
“Really?” Tubby wondered.
Both Landon and I nodded.
“Excuse me Tubby,” said Landon, “This isn’t enough hot dogs for the both of us.”
The tiger looks down to him and replied, “I figured that may be a problem. So …” He points at a horse and a sheep carrying another pyramid of hot dogs. They placed it on the table in front of Landon. I moved the other tray closer to me.
“That’s better,” Landon said.
“Great showmanship,” I added.
A smile came across the tubby tiger’s face. He continued, “Alright, let’s put 15 minutes on the clock.” Tubby points to the big timer. “Now since only two of you were the only 2 courageous enough to compete, this will be … SUDDEN DEATH!”
The furry audience went, “OOOOH!”
The tiger told us, “That means that if one of you concedes or throws up, the other one automatically wins.”
“How exciting,” I said as I smiled and clapped.
Landon had his serious expression still on his face.
A lion walks up to Tubby and whispers in his ear.
The fat tiger then said, “An anonymous donor has given us a $500 prize for the winner.” Tubby went to Landon and asked, “Are you ready?”
Landon emotionlessly said into the microphone, “I am.”
Tubby came to my side and asked, “Are you ready?”
I yelled into the microphone, “YEEEEAAAAH!”
Tubby goes center stage and said into the microphone, “Furries are you ready?” He pointed the microphone to the audience.
The crowds animal instincts came forward in all of them as the fairground became a (I would say zoo, but that offensive to our people).
Tubby turns to us and says, “On you mark. Get set. EAT!”
I used both of my paws to grab two hot dogs. I shoved them both in my maw and within three bites, they were gone. I repeated. In my head, I keep count. Four. Six. Eight. Ten. Twelve. Fourteen. One of my eyes was on the hot dogs. The other was watching the timer. Seconds flew as I ingested these links of delicious cooked me. (I really hate the bad rep hot dogs have for their content. If it tastes good, what does it matter?) I devoured hot dogs at a steady pace. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw how hyper Tubby was as he announced play-by-play how we two dogs were eating. He commented about how seemed to eat as if the, now two dozen, hot dogs entered my belly and had not affected it.
Then Tubby started to talk about my opponent. Landon had eaten nearly the same amount of hot dogs as I did. But unlike me, his gut had grown about 3x its original size. He took a different approach to eating. The flabby dog grabs only one hot dog at a time and ate it in only two quick bites. As he swallows the chewed meat, he reached for another and another. His pyramid of hot dogs was shrinking at the same rate mine was.
Tubby announce the five minutes had already passed. Neither of us seemed to care. We just kept eating. But at this time, the hot dogs were starting to affect my gut. It began to grow with every third hot dog I ate. My shirt got even tighter. My belly was almost completely uncovered. I glanced over to Landon and his flabby belly exploded out of his buttoned shirt. One of his buttons hit me in the gut. He didn’t care. He continued to eat and continue to grow. Now I see why he thought he could beat me. He knew that the more he ate, the bigger his belly will get. Then I noticed something. It looked like a shred of the remains from a girdle. That cheater was hiding his belly the whole time. No matter. It didn’t stop me from eating, now 4 hot dogs at a time. He might be able to grow at will, but there’s no way I’d let that cheater win.
Tubby announced the ten minute mark. I was actually starting to feel something in my stomach. I hoped it wasn’t fullness. I seemed to slow down, reverting back to eating 2 hot dogs at a time. I glanced at Landon. He was still eating like a machine, 1 hot dog at a time. His stomach was still growing. My belly had now stopped growing. It looked as if I swallowed a medicine ball. It was big, round, and tight. I don’t see how I kept eating but I did. Then, T gave the two minute warning. Both of our platters of hot dogs had about ¼ of the pyramid remaining. I was feeling full, but I had to beat him. I started to eat just 1 hot dog at a time now and slowly. I ate at my slow pace, finishing a hot dog in 5 bites. Then, the button on my pants finally gave. Landon’s pace had now slowed too, for his gut had now stopped growing.
“Give up yet?” I asked him between bites.
“No, but you’re looking kind of full there big guy,” he replied. He smiled.
Before I could reply, Tubby told us, “One minute left.”
I visually compared our platters of hot dogs and saw that he had the same number of hot dogs remaining on his platter as me. I gave him a look with a sad frown on my face. Landon returned the look, the frown, and nodded.
In unison, we both said, “I give up.”
“What?” the fat tiger ringmaster asked.
“That’s right. We both are full,” Landon explained.
“We’d explode if we try to out-eat each other,” I added.
Tubby said, “Now wait. Tyson has one, two, three, four, eighteen hot dogs left and Landon has one, two, three, eighteen remaining. I can’t believe this. It’s a tie.”
Landon and I simultaneously rubbed our bellies and smiled. We looked at Tubby.
“Oh well, I guess you both lose,” said Tubby, “That means I get to keep the money.”
“Not so fast,” said a boy’s voice from the crowd. A younger, more slender tiger emerged. He continued, “Now Uncle T, I gave my allowance to see these guys eat and get fatter. They did that. So just split the money.”
“You’re the anonymous donor Trevor?” Tubby asked him.
Trevor nodded.
“Okay,” he said. Tubby reached into his pocket. He gave me $250 and then gave Landon $250. He turned to Trevor and said, “Happy now?”
Trevor smiled as he came up on stage. He thanked us for participating, shook our paw, and then rubbed each of our bellies. He had his picture taken with each of us. The young tiger then proceeded to eat the remaining hot dogs, giving himself a nicely pronounced gut.
*Tyson sits in an interrogation room talking to a police officer.*
Officer: “Okay, that sounds like a reasonable story, Mr. Tyson. But do you have any witnesses?”
Tyson: “You can call my friend, Tubby T, or ask anyone who was at the fair last week, like that guy Landon I competed with.”
Officer: “Really? Do you know how much work I’d have to do? I’d rather just book you."
Tyson: “On what charge?”
Officer: “Murder.”
Tyson: “WHAT? I’m innocent I tell ya.”
Officer: *tries to handcuff Tyson, but his paws are too big; gets frustrated*
*knock on door*
Officer (angry): "Come in."
*door opens and Landon enters the room*
Landon: “I was told to talk to you about Tyson.”
Brokendestiny starring his own characters Tyson and LandonMy belly woke me that morning. It was ready to break the nightly fast. I instantly got out of bed. The first thing I saw was the calendar. Circled and written with red marker were the words “Hot Dog Eating Contest” on the day’s date. Reading it made me very excited. I quickly went to the bathroom and prepared myself for the day. Afterward, I went back into the bedroom and stood in the mirror. Wearing only boxers, I ogled my 6’5”/600lb body.
With my hands on my big beautiful belly, I said, “Tyson, you are one fine Doberman.”
I got myself dressed. I could see and feel that I’ve outgrown the clothes. My t-shirt was tight and struggled to cover half of my gut. My pants were so tight. I knew that after the next meal I had, there’d no longer be a button to fasten them. It was now almost noon, so it was time for me to go.
I squeezed into my car and drove across town to the site of the county fair. I squeezed out of my car. (I still can’t believe how much bigger I’ve gotten since I bought that car.) I could see that the place was already filled with furs, having fun. I entered the fair. All eyes were on me (as usual). Every fur there knew exactly why I was there. I walked a few feet forward. My good friend, known as Tubby T, called me. I turned to face him.
“Tyson, glad to see you’re here,” said the 5’10”/250lb tiger.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I sarcastically asked him.
“That’s true. You have won this contest 3 years in row,” Tubby realized. He pointed to the sign-in table and continued, “Now go sign up for the contest. It looks as if you might have some competition this year.”
I told him, “I wish you were my competition.”
He replied, “I do too, but you beat me at this 3 years ago.”
I sighed and said, “Yeah, but you were champion for 5 consecutive years before me.”
“That’s true,” Tubby responded as he patted his gut, “Maybe next year, but now I better get going, as well as you.”
Tubby left me as quickly as possible. His flab jiggled as he moved further into the crowd of furs. I chuckled to myself as I made my way to the sign-in table. All those who were there looked at me and gasped. As I progressed, they parted to make a path for me. I approached the table. Silence befell them all.
I heard one fur asked, “Who’s he?”
I heard another answered, “That’s Tyson, this competition’s reining champion.”
I grinned as I signed my name.
I turned around and then heard Tubby’s voice on the loudspeaker say, “The Hot Dog Eating Competition will begin in ten minutes.”
Again, I smile as I walk away from the table. I can hear the furs behind me rushing back to the table. I laughed and turned around to them.
I asked, “Really? None of you have the …” I jiggled my belly and continued, “… gut to challenge me?”
“I do,” said a small voice from one of the furs.
“Who do?” I wondered, “Then step up to the sign-in sheet.”
I looked though the crowd to see which of them accepted my challenge. I saw furs moves slightly aside to let whoever it was get passed them. I waited for two minutes for him to finally emerge.
“You gotta be joking,” I said as I looked down at the 4’5”/180lb-ish Shiba Inu. He had a flabby build and a look of severity on his face.
“I do not joke,” he said, “I, Landon, will be your downfall.”
“Whoa! Lighten up kid. It’s not that serious,” I replied, “It’s just an eating contest.”
Landon’s facial expression remained the same. He approached the table and had to stand on tiptoe to complete the form. I laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Landon sternly asked.
“Uh …” I went. Then I lied, “How every fur else who was in the contest scratched their names off the list.”
“I do see the humor in that,” agreed the small-statured dog, “None of them had the, how you say, gut to face you.”
“Well no offense, but neither does you,” I awkwardly noted.
“WHAT?” Landon angrily asked.
“No. I didn’t mean it like that,” I hastily tried to calm him, “I meant that your stomach, although great, isn’t big enough to handle eating the amount of hot dogs that it would take to beat me.”
He calmed and said, “We’ll see about that.”
We both look upward as we hear Tubby say, “Would the participants in today’s Hot Dog Eating Competition please report to the main stage pronto?”
Landon and I shared a look. It had to have meant for us the race to the main stage because he took off into the crowd. He disappeared into the group of furs. Awestruck, I just followed. The crowd again parted like the Red Sea as I moved through it to the main stage. As I walk, I nearly tripped over a fallen Landon. He shamefully looked up at me. I sympathetically looked down at him. I reached to him to help him off the ground. He smiled. I was surprised. It gave me an idea. I started to lift Landon.
“Hey, what are you doing?” the little dog asked.
“Just giving you a hand,” I told him.
As he rose higher, he yelled, “Put me down, you massive mutt.”
“I never heard that one before,” I said as I thought. I placed Landon onto my shoulder.
The little dog kept ranting. “I SAID PUT ME …” He stopped after he sat and said, “Hey, this might work. Thank you.”
“No problem,” I replied.
I made our way through the furs to the main stage. On it, Tubby stood beside a table with two chairs and a large pyramid of hot dogs on a platter upon it. I lowered Landon onto the stage and he took a seat as I went to sit in the other chair.
Tubby stood between us and talked into a microphone, “Alright guys, the rules are simple. Eat as many hot dogs, including buns, as you can in fifteen minutes. You are eliminated when you get too full to continue, or you throw up.”
“You sound like a game show host T,” I said.
“Really?” Tubby wondered.
Both Landon and I nodded.
“Excuse me Tubby,” said Landon, “This isn’t enough hot dogs for the both of us.”
The tiger looks down to him and replied, “I figured that may be a problem. So …” He points at a horse and a sheep carrying another pyramid of hot dogs. They placed it on the table in front of Landon. I moved the other tray closer to me.
“That’s better,” Landon said.
“Great showmanship,” I added.
A smile came across the tubby tiger’s face. He continued, “Alright, let’s put 15 minutes on the clock.” Tubby points to the big timer. “Now since only two of you were the only 2 courageous enough to compete, this will be … SUDDEN DEATH!”
The furry audience went, “OOOOH!”
The tiger told us, “That means that if one of you concedes or throws up, the other one automatically wins.”
“How exciting,” I said as I smiled and clapped.
Landon had his serious expression still on his face.
A lion walks up to Tubby and whispers in his ear.
The fat tiger then said, “An anonymous donor has given us a $500 prize for the winner.” Tubby went to Landon and asked, “Are you ready?”
Landon emotionlessly said into the microphone, “I am.”
Tubby came to my side and asked, “Are you ready?”
I yelled into the microphone, “YEEEEAAAAH!”
Tubby goes center stage and said into the microphone, “Furries are you ready?” He pointed the microphone to the audience.
The crowds animal instincts came forward in all of them as the fairground became a (I would say zoo, but that offensive to our people).
Tubby turns to us and says, “On you mark. Get set. EAT!”
I used both of my paws to grab two hot dogs. I shoved them both in my maw and within three bites, they were gone. I repeated. In my head, I keep count. Four. Six. Eight. Ten. Twelve. Fourteen. One of my eyes was on the hot dogs. The other was watching the timer. Seconds flew as I ingested these links of delicious cooked me. (I really hate the bad rep hot dogs have for their content. If it tastes good, what does it matter?) I devoured hot dogs at a steady pace. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw how hyper Tubby was as he announced play-by-play how we two dogs were eating. He commented about how seemed to eat as if the, now two dozen, hot dogs entered my belly and had not affected it.
Then Tubby started to talk about my opponent. Landon had eaten nearly the same amount of hot dogs as I did. But unlike me, his gut had grown about 3x its original size. He took a different approach to eating. The flabby dog grabs only one hot dog at a time and ate it in only two quick bites. As he swallows the chewed meat, he reached for another and another. His pyramid of hot dogs was shrinking at the same rate mine was.
Tubby announce the five minutes had already passed. Neither of us seemed to care. We just kept eating. But at this time, the hot dogs were starting to affect my gut. It began to grow with every third hot dog I ate. My shirt got even tighter. My belly was almost completely uncovered. I glanced over to Landon and his flabby belly exploded out of his buttoned shirt. One of his buttons hit me in the gut. He didn’t care. He continued to eat and continue to grow. Now I see why he thought he could beat me. He knew that the more he ate, the bigger his belly will get. Then I noticed something. It looked like a shred of the remains from a girdle. That cheater was hiding his belly the whole time. No matter. It didn’t stop me from eating, now 4 hot dogs at a time. He might be able to grow at will, but there’s no way I’d let that cheater win.
Tubby announced the ten minute mark. I was actually starting to feel something in my stomach. I hoped it wasn’t fullness. I seemed to slow down, reverting back to eating 2 hot dogs at a time. I glanced at Landon. He was still eating like a machine, 1 hot dog at a time. His stomach was still growing. My belly had now stopped growing. It looked as if I swallowed a medicine ball. It was big, round, and tight. I don’t see how I kept eating but I did. Then, T gave the two minute warning. Both of our platters of hot dogs had about ¼ of the pyramid remaining. I was feeling full, but I had to beat him. I started to eat just 1 hot dog at a time now and slowly. I ate at my slow pace, finishing a hot dog in 5 bites. Then, the button on my pants finally gave. Landon’s pace had now slowed too, for his gut had now stopped growing.
“Give up yet?” I asked him between bites.
“No, but you’re looking kind of full there big guy,” he replied. He smiled.
Before I could reply, Tubby told us, “One minute left.”
I visually compared our platters of hot dogs and saw that he had the same number of hot dogs remaining on his platter as me. I gave him a look with a sad frown on my face. Landon returned the look, the frown, and nodded.
In unison, we both said, “I give up.”
“What?” the fat tiger ringmaster asked.
“That’s right. We both are full,” Landon explained.
“We’d explode if we try to out-eat each other,” I added.
Tubby said, “Now wait. Tyson has one, two, three, four, eighteen hot dogs left and Landon has one, two, three, eighteen remaining. I can’t believe this. It’s a tie.”
Landon and I simultaneously rubbed our bellies and smiled. We looked at Tubby.
“Oh well, I guess you both lose,” said Tubby, “That means I get to keep the money.”
“Not so fast,” said a boy’s voice from the crowd. A younger, more slender tiger emerged. He continued, “Now Uncle T, I gave my allowance to see these guys eat and get fatter. They did that. So just split the money.”
“You’re the anonymous donor Trevor?” Tubby asked him.
Trevor nodded.
“Okay,” he said. Tubby reached into his pocket. He gave me $250 and then gave Landon $250. He turned to Trevor and said, “Happy now?”
Trevor smiled as he came up on stage. He thanked us for participating, shook our paw, and then rubbed each of our bellies. He had his picture taken with each of us. The young tiger then proceeded to eat the remaining hot dogs, giving himself a nicely pronounced gut.
*Tyson sits in an interrogation room talking to a police officer.*
Officer: “Okay, that sounds like a reasonable story, Mr. Tyson. But do you have any witnesses?”
Tyson: “You can call my friend, Tubby T, or ask anyone who was at the fair last week, like that guy Landon I competed with.”
Officer: “Really? Do you know how much work I’d have to do? I’d rather just book you."
Tyson: “On what charge?”
Officer: “Murder.”
Tyson: “WHAT? I’m innocent I tell ya.”
Officer: *tries to handcuff Tyson, but his paws are too big; gets frustrated*
*knock on door*
Officer (angry): "Come in."
*door opens and Landon enters the room*
Landon: “I was told to talk to you about Tyson.”
Category Story / Fat Furs
Species Doberman
Size 50 x 50px
File Size 18.1 kB
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