YE WHO WOULD READ THEE A TALE OF FANTASY,
OF EVENTUAL WEIGHT GAIN,
OF BELLY GRUMBLINGS,
AND MINOR COMEDY,

WE DO SALUTE THEE. HOWEVER! LEST YE WOULD AVOID THIS TRAGIC FATE, I SAYETH TO THEE NOW, TURN BACK, OR FOREVER BE SCARRED.


As per usual, I was mucking up and slumming around on stories I should have been writing. However, when writer's block hit, it was timely enough that once again user  BrettHusky would come about with an idea. This is to culmination of the suggestion, and you can thank him if you enjoyed this story.

Now, as per usual, if you can't read the .doc file, the story is in the comment. Aside from that? Enjoy, and remember that I'm always looking for a new story idea, suggestion, or critique, and to leave them in the comments below.

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Nothing but clear stark white emptiness, clouded the vision of Savanna Reed, (She’d never forgiven her parents for that name), a vixen who had come to wonder just what it was that had happened to her. A moment ago, she was walking down the street, quietly snacking away at her second foot long that hour. This was in the effort to satisfy the moaning beast that was her stomach. At 5’7 and 240lbs, no one could claim that she was skinny. A soft belly that split into folds, and spilled out of the T-shirt she wore, not unlike the capricious shorts that her generous girth filled out to the point of incredible discomfort. Savanna reed, with her immaculate red and gold fur, and ill-fitting clothes, was without a shadow of a doubt, fat.
This was because of her best friend in the world:
Her stomach.
Ever since Savanna had been a child, her stomach had possessed a voice of its own, growling at her with its voracious attitudes to feed it, so that it might be sated. Savanna had of course obliged throughout the years, though there were times when her parents intervened for the sake of her daughter’s health of course. Still, Savanna dutifully fed it when she could, and of course had become a big girl as a result. It wasn’t a situation she complained about, really. As a matter of fact, it wasn’t even a major aspect of her life.
Savanna was not defined by her belly, though she fed him constantly. Rather, Savanna was defined by her personality. Out-going, there wasn’t too much she wasn’t willing to do when it came to people. She loved to talk, and sing, and dance. Really, she was something of a sweet person. The employee willing to stay over the weekend and cover your shifts because you needed to fix your marriage. The friend who remembered the piece of jewelry you pointed out six months before your birthday and showed up with it. This then explained, as she was walking down the street when she spotted a poor homeless and starving soul, why she ended up giving away her hoagie for the sake of the poor creature.
No good deed goes unpunished, they say, and they would be right. Suddenly, Savanna heard a voice—no. THE voice. Layered in powers arcane, and untold. It was the voice of the ocean savaging those foolish enough to traverse its dark and terrible secrets; the voice of thunder and lightning; the voice of a god.
“SAVANNA REED.”
“Mom, please, no. I don’t want to go to school today.” Whimpered the frankly bamboozled vixen.
The voice went silent for a moment, apparently taken aback by the off-kilter statement. It soon recovered, and the voice, with all the according authority that it seemed to possess, moved on.
“I AM NOT YOUR MOTHER, CHILD.”
“Oh…WAIT! Morgan Freeman?”

“WHO?”
“He played god in that one movie!” She exclaimed.
“NO. I—WHAT WOULD POSSIBLY MAKE YOU PEOPLE THINK THAT MOVIE WAS—NO. I DON’T WANT TO KNOW. LISTEN. SAVANNA REED. I HAVE COME TO DELIVER UNTO YOU A GIFT. FOR YOUR PASSIONATE ATTITUDES, YOUR—“

“Wait,” She interjected. “Who’s giving me this gift exactly?”
“ARE YOU GOING TO KEEP INTERRUPTING ME? BECAUSE I CAN JUST GIVE YOU YOUR GIFT AND LEAVE. I’VE GOT BETTER THINGS TO DO THAN TO BE PICKED AT FOR EVERY LITTLE DETAIL BY SOME SPASTIC SPONTANEOUS LITTLE—EXCUSE ME, BIG—“
“Hey!”
“LOOK. GIFT. FROM PEOPLE. DO YOU ACCEPT?”
Sensing that she wasn’t going to get anything else out of this ambiguous voice, and the white light that seemingly accompanied it, Savanna decided to approach the situation with a modicum of restraint. By choosing her words carefully, she proceeded.
“…Maybe. What’s the gift?”
Suddenly, the world turned into a rushing kaleidoscope of vivid detail and color. Worlds ticked by in the blink of an instant. Whirling oceans, comprised of an unearthly violet washed over her, glinting in the eye of a red sun. Lands full of people, of laughter, happiness; lands of death—there was more here, in this one infinitesimal moment, than any one person was supposed to see, and then it all stopped, turning into a realm of gaping black.
When it finally came back, when the world turned to a land of color and reality once more, Savanna found herself in a place that made her legs weak, and her stomach grumble. Oh, that gift. Savanna had her answer, as she looked around. Mountains of mashed potatoes and gravy rising in the distance, forests comprised of every kind of food imaginable from sweets to meats—cooked and soaked in their own fats as they were. It all looked so…savory.
“PARADISE.”
The vixen’s mouth hung open, her tongue lolling about as her stomach made loud and questionable noises, that likely would have scared away in local life had such a thing not already been hunted down and turned into a feast.
“Uh. Yes, please.”
“YOU ACCEPT?”
“YES!” She proclaimed, her scream echoing across the clearing of frosted sugar which she was standing upon.
“…I DO NOT GET PAID ENOUGH FOR THIS. TAKE YOUR GIFT, CHILD. AND BE WELL.” The voice said, before finally fading away to nothingness, a fact which rested quite well with Savanna. That voice was annoying anyway, and as her belly was oh-so quick to point out with yet another loud gurgle, it was a distraction from the literal land of milk and honey that she’d been transported to.
Savanna was not a woman defined by her stomach. Then again? Her stomach certainly had a way with words.