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Zataan and Theo's "Bigger is Better" Growth Drive - Round 5
Wow once more! Another round, another goal reached; enjoy having more of Conner and Renard to view, physically and visually! We've got one final round to go, so if you've been holding back, now's the time to show us what you got! We're bumping up how far your dollar goes yet again, so let's see how big we can get these to for that last push!
The cheshires Theo and Zataan focused their show on a very specific demographic, in the darker and stranger parts of the city. Their advertising was handled by Theo who, always a touch old fashioned, plastered the walls along alleyways with posters that looked like they should be advertising a Vaudeville act instead of reality TV. Skulking about these backways and hidden corners was a shifty looking sort; a large hyena in a long, flowing military coat. He picked a passerby’s pocket with dextrous fingers, frowned at the scant change he’d just filched, and then the posters caught his eye.
“Who the fuck are these two jokers?” He muttered. The posters showed Theo and Zataan prominently, flanking the show’s title on either side. At the bottom, there was a small blurb advertising tickets for the live recordings.
“Both look like they got shit worth stealing… maybe I’ve got time for a show tonight…”
****************
Renard had a bad feeling, which only made him hungry. The lolf, now sitting at nine hundred pounds, did not like how much time the cheshires spent whispering to one another, their smiles stretched to new limits.
“What do you think they’re going to do to us next?” Conner asked, rolling his massive shoulders and shifting in the seat he was wedged into. Both of them were still getting adjusted to their new wardrobes. Ater their Candyland adventure, they were forced to face the fact that the singlets were no longer working, and the Cheshires were only too happy to provide them with new outfits; posing trunks.
Renard swallowed another donut; he had been left with a small mountain to sate his appetite. “I don’t know, but we need to make a plan to get out of this. We need to beat them at their own game.”
Conner frowned, already bouncing his pecs and looking down at his swollen chest as if it might disappear at any moment. “Yeah, but…”
“Conner. If you still want to be big, I can help you get there when we’re back to normal, I promise. But I can’t… urph…” He paused to gobble down another treat. “It’s nice, eating whatever I want, and I can get comfortable with all this… soft padding, but it’s not me.”
The raccoon held up his hands in defence. “Okay, maybe you’re right. But what can we do?”
Renard gestured with an eclair. “We have to ruin this show, don’t we? We have to avoid gaining any more weight. If we can do that, they’ll get bored and put us back to normal.”
Conner grumbled, looking away as he tensed his bicep, watching it swell up.
“Conner!” Renard jutted out his fat hand. “Are we together on this, or not?”
The raccoon sighed, and shook the lolf’s hand. “We are.”
The Cheshires approached them now, smiling wide. “Dear Mr. De Fleureaux, Mr. Coon,” Theo bowed floridly. “We certainly have to thank you for being such good sports during this show.”
“This has been a real laugh for both of us,” Zataan said, “and we’re almost done with the season.”
“Oh yeah? What’re you going to do with us after, then?” Renard rumbled, his chipmunk cheeks wobbling indignantly.
Zataan chuckled. “We’re cats of our word, Renny. You’ll be put back to the way you were before this show, we promise.”
“So… what’s this episode going to be?” Conner asked.
“We’ll be going a bit freeform… you will be issuing dares to each other,” Theo explained, and the tempo of his voice picked up considerably. “The rules are simple; you will take turns coming up with a challenge, and the challenger will gamble a certain amount of weight. If you lose, you win double the weight you betted, and if you win, you lose the given weight.”
The huge raccoon blinked. “Wait, wait... so if we win, we lose, and if we lose, we--”
“Yes, Mr. Coon, precisely,” Theo’s smile widened, tapping his nose. “Nothing gets past you. Now, we go live in just half an hour, so we’ll leave you to freshen up.”
Renard rocked himself in his seat, his bulbous belly jiggling and swaying as he built up the momentum to push himself into a standing position. “Now, hold on just a minute--!”
The Cheshires disappeared in a puff of smoke, leaving a frustrated lolf with another donut inexplicably in his hand.
“See?” Renard turned to Conner, biting into the donut ferociously. “They’re trying to turn us around.”
Conner scratched his chin, which took some manuevering as his bicep mashed into his pec. “So… what do we do?”
Renard thought for a moment. “Theo said, if we lose, we… win weight. And flipped if we win. Yes?”
“I… think so?”
“So,” Renard waddled, trying to pace. “All we need to do is bet low and win our bets. Right?”
Conner blinked. “...Yes? So, we need to give each other easy bets to win.”
“Exactly. Well, let’s get ready, then.” Renard gathered a plate of donuts, and waddled off to his dressing room.
In another part of the cavernous studio, the hyena thief was skulking about. Called Kale, he was tremendously disappointed so far. There was almost nothing around here. Nothing tangible, at least. He was on the trail of some powerful magic, the residue of which was as easy for him to detect as a strong smell. Still, all he could find thus far was some spare change left lying about. Maybe he ought to ditch this place…
“I say, Mr. C,” Theo’s voice carried from their shared dressing room. Hearing the voice, Kale plastered himself against the wall to hear better.
“Do you think we’re being entirely fair to Mr. De Fleureaux and Mr. Coon?”
Zataan chuckled. “Why, Theo, you’re not going soft on me, are you? They’re fine. We’re having fun, the audience is having fun, and I’ve seen the way you’ve been eyeing Conner now that he’s built like a tank… even Renard’s gut seems to be very distracting to you.”
Kale could hear the one called Theo suppressing a purr. “That may be true… but then I see him staring daggers at me, and it does take some of the fun out of it. I’ve had some of my clients plan assassination on me before-- it’s why I don’t do anymore work in religious organizations. Attempted exorcisms are ever so tiresome.”
“Well, Renard’s getting plenty big as it is… maybe we can cut him some slack. Though are you sure…? He’d make a nice bed,” Zataan commented.
Theo hummed. “If we were talking about Mr. Coon I’d be more inclined… he’s considerably more amiable toward the whole thing than Mr. De Fleureaux.”
“That just makes Renard more fun to poke, even if he doesn’t feel it anymore under all that blubber.”
It was Theo’s turn to laugh. “That much is true… but I daresay, let’s not push him too far. I’d hate to have a falling out, he might never play with us again.”
Kale did his best to shift back to the shadows, out of sight of the two as they exited their dressing room after a long preening. A small smile was spreading across the hyena’s lips as he sauntered on into the now empty room. “So… they don’t want the fat one pushed too far?” He murmured to himself, rifling through the drawers and pocketing any loose odds and ends that looked sufficiently shiny or expensive. “Maybe I’ll push him off a fuckin’ cliff, then,” he snickered. The sense of magic was incredibly strong in here; on Theo’s desk, a large, ornate oaken affair right out of the middle ages, he found the cat’s notes. The rules to the dare challenge had been quickly scribbled out on a scrap of paper, which Kale pocketed, and then he found what had drawn him to the room- Theo’s private stash.
Hidden away in a false drawer, there were about a dozen vials and crystal bottles, all an array of bright fluorescent colors, and all of them decorated with little tags titled “Drink Me!” Feeling drawn to a vial with hot pink liquid, Kale’s intuition told him what it was used for. He quickly slipped out with his bounty, and started stalking through the studio to find the Cheshires’ two hapless contestants.
Kale found Renard’s room first; it wasn’t hard, as there was a literal bread crumb trail made up of the debris of God knows how many pastries and sweets leading to it. Looking over Theo’s notes for a quick revision, Kale knocked, putting on his best face.
Entering the room, he found the lolf obsessively stuffing his face. “Hey, uh… you need me to come back at another time, man?”
“Whath?” Renard said with his mouth full, and then swallowed. “Who’re you?”
“Let’s just say… I’m a concerned party. A fan, even. I know you, big guy. You used to do the bodybuilding circuit, yeah? You were in all those ads for plus sized men’s clothes?”
Renard arched a brow at Kale. “Yeah…?”
“And those two technicolor felines… they did this to ya, didn’t they? The whole…” he blew up his cheeks and held out his arms in front of his middle in a huge circle, “thing, right?”
“...They did. What’s your point?”
Kale smirked. “Well, buddy, I just gotta ask, are you fuckin’ stupid?”
Renard glowered. “I beg your pardon?”
The hyena held up his hands. “Hey, hey, I’m just sayin’, you can’t trust these clowns. They told ya if you lose, you win weight, right?”
Renard shrugged. “I mean, Theo said it so fast and poofed away before we could get clarification, but yeah.”
“But so far, you winning has made you blimp up like you were owned by fuckin’ Goodyear. So, here’s what I’m thinkin’... you losing means you ‘win’ weight. But to you, winning would be getting rid of the weight, and that’s exactly what the Cheshires don’t want you to know. You throw your bet, and you can lose enough weight to slip on out of here,” Kale explained, snatching a few of Renard’s treats when the lolf wasn’t paying attention to his hands.
“That… does make a certain amount of sense…” Renard muttered.
“Hey, I’m just here to help. Hope it works out for you, big guy,” Kale said, saluting with an eclair. As soon as he was out of earshot, he sniggered. “One down, one to go,” he said, swishing the hot pink liquid around in its crystal container.
Finding Conner’s room was easy as well; he just had to listen for the sound of slamming weights. Conner was at a makeshift bench press Jose had left him, lifting what appeared to be enough weight to represent a decent sized van.
Kale whistled low as Conner lifted himself up from the bench. “You’ve really gotten into this whole muscle man thing, haven’t you?”
Conner swerved around. “Hey, who are you?”
Kale shrugged. “Hey, I’m just a friend. Listen… couldn’t help but notice you seem a little more into your muscles than you let on.”
“Yeah? What do you care?”
The hyena smirked, tossing him the vial. “Just want you to keep ahead. You’re gonna win your bet, right?”
“Uh… yeah, gonna try to, anyways.” Conner squinted, looking at the small vial in his meaty hand. “What’s this for?”
“Just a little treat from the cat’s private stash. You drink that, you can give up as much weight as you want, and still be huge. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” Kale asked.
Conner scratched his head, his bicep colliding with his cheek. “I- I mean… have you been talking to Renard, or something? Did he send you?”
The hyena shrugged. “Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. All you need to think about is… are you really ready to give up your gains? Just a thought, buddy.”
Before Conner could respond, Kale already slipped out. The raccoon frowned, looking down at the Cheshire’s potion, and began to think.
********
“Thank you, Ladies and Gentlemen, for joining us on another exciting episode of Bigger is Better,” Theo announced as the spotlight came on him.
Immediately, Zataan tackled him, wrestling the green cat out of the spotlight before popping back up and dusting off his Tuxedo jacket. “We’re looking forward to tonight’s episode, where our two contestants will issue challenges to each other. Their size is on the line, so let’s see how much weight they’ll be ready to gamble away--”
Theo came up from behind Zataan and soundly hit him on the head, his smile never wavering as he kicked the unconscious purple feline out of the spotlight. “Or indeed, how much more weight they can handle. Now, on with the show! At 925 pounds, the inestimable Mr. Renard De Fleureaux…”
There was a wave of hollering and laughter as Renard waddled on to stage, still tugging on his posing trunks to keep them from riding up his overgrown posterior.
“And at a whopping 1055 pounds, Mr…” Theo’s smile faltered as Conner lumbered on to stage. “Mr. Coon…”
The raccoon looked positively overgrown. His muscles were more swollen than ever, and each step of his titanic legs made the ground shake. His face was wedged into the crevice of his heaving pecs, and his arms were propped up at an angle from his flaring flanks.
“Mr. C…” Theo hissed to Zataan, who had regained his consciousness. “What on earth did you do?”
“I don’t know what you mean, Theo, that’s not my handiwork. It reeks of you. Are you really stooping to cheating? At this point?” Zataan hissed back through his teeth, neither one losing their smiles.
“I didn’t do this. I smell a rat,” Theo fired back.
“Hm…” Zataan rumbled.
“You don’t believe me, then?”
Zataan subtly shook his head. “No, worse. I think you’re telling the truth.”
Renard’s jaw dropped as he looked up at Conner. “Dude, what’d you do to yourself?”
“Don’t worry,” Conner winked. “It’s all part of the plan. I’m ready to win your bet, just like we said.”
“Well, actually, Conner, I had a visitor, and I think--”
“Well, gentlemen!” Theo had recovered, wedging himself between the two oversized contestants. “You know the rules; you each issue a dare, and you each gamble a certain weight. Now… if you’d write down your wagers…” the two were issued pens and scraps of paper, and quickly scribbled down numbers, which Theo snatched up. “Perfect, gentlemen… now, let’s see… Mr. De Fleureaux, why don’t you start us off?”
Renard scratched his chin. They had to lose, right? Or at least, he had to. Conner looked like he could lift whole buildings, now… what couldn’t he do? He thought back to when he was built like that; or at least, when he was still in car-lifting shape. What was the worst part of being that big…?
He snapped his fingers as he got an idea. “Okay, I got it. Conner, I dare you…” he looked around, and grabbed a post-it note left on one of the cameras. Waddling around the procyon mountain, he stuck the note square in the middle of Conner’s geographical landmass of a back. “I dare you to reach that post-it note on your back.”
“Uh… yeah, yeah, no problem…” Conner lifted his huge arms, and tried reaching them beyond his shoulders, but his own biceps got in the way; they would only constrict so far, before slamming into his shoulder blades. Grunting and straining harder than he had at any workout, the raccoon tried contorting his great bulk, but he could barely twist his gigantic arms to reach his waist, never mind his back. He looked over to the audience, and he spotted Kale, who gave him the thumbs-up. Maybe Renard was trying to trick him, or it was simpler than he thought, but he had to try. He jumped up and down, shaking the floor where he landed and leaving cracks in the concrete, but he got lucky; the post-it note fluttered off, and he caught it in his hand, and lift it up in victory to the delight of the audience.
Zataan clapped appreciatively. “A very valiant effort, Conner! Now… what’re you gonna make Renard do?”
Conner frowned. Renard was still his friend, even if he possibly tried to sabotage him… he’d give Renard an easy one. But he’d put him into a headlock backstage and find out why he almost made him lose. “Alright… Renard, I dare you to… do one jumping jack.”
Renard blinked. “Just one?”
Conner nodded after a moment. “Uh, yeah. Just one.”
Renard grimaced, but looked out to the audience. Kale was there, shaking his head. He had to lose this one.
Taking in a deep breath, Renard puffed up his cheeks and belly to look even fatter, putting on a great show of struggling to even get his fat-swaddled arms up and hopping listlessly on his feet. It actually would be pretty hard, but he could still muster up one jumping jack. But still, he had a dare to lose. Summoning up his theater training from high school, he put a hand to his forehead. “Oh, no! I just can’t do it! I’m far too fat and weak to complete the bet!”
Theo grinned, opening the two papers with their bets written on it. “Well, Mr. De Fleureaux, in that case, it looks like--” Again, Theo’s smile faltered as his eyes bulged, quickly putting the two numbers together. “A-are you absolutely certain, Mr. De Fleureaux? We all know you’ve got it in you.”
“Oh, come on, Theo, you can’t show your favoritism now,” Zataan put on a grand smile for the audience. “If he forfeits, then we have a winner, and Renard is going to-- yikes.” Zataan’s smile faltered too when he saw the numbers.
Kale was just off stage, having pilfered just a few more things from the Cheshires’ room. He wanted a good view of this.
“W-well,” Theo cleared his throat. “As Mr. Coon won his bet, his wager was for 175 pounds… Mr. Coon, you will transfer those 175 pounds.”
“Wait.” Renard’s face blanched. “What do you mean transfer?”
“And Renard, you wagered… 700 pounds. That’s going to be doubled.” Zataan explained.
Conner and Renard exchanged looks.
“Mr. De Fleureaux, you’ve won 1575 pounds.” Theo snapped his fingers.
There was strange sensation washing over Conner; it was like a bit of air had been let out of him. His muscles shrunk, but only a bit, down to more manageable levels.
But the transformation Renard went through put anything else on the show to shame. It was as if he were Violet Beauregarde in Wonka’s Chocolate factory, but instead of turning into a blueberry, he was turning into dough. His cheeks swelled up to near spherical proportions, sagging into his chins, and his belly erupted, surging forward as if he’d just burst out of a corset, ballooning at such a rapid pace, the sudden weight imbalance knocked him off his feet on to his quickly expanding rear, stretching his posing trunks to their absolute limit. Rolls of fat cascaded down his back as his belly’s expansion finally slowed. The lolf was panting heavily, his head swimming from the sudden transformation.
Theo rushed over, and in a surprising move of gallantry, tried to steady the doughy lolf. “W-well! There you have it, Ladies and Gentlemen! Tune in next week!” He forced a smile as he heaved Renard’s fat-swaddled arm over his shoulders. “Mr. De Fleureaux, for once, I apologize, we didn’t intend a growth of this magnitude… how do you feel?”
“...hungry,” Renard panted.
Kale turned on his heel and snuck off; it had been a fun afternoon.
A- A sprawling, twisting Labyrinth
B- A pulse-pounding wrestling match
C- A simple race to the finish line
GROWTH DRIVE RULES
-Two characters will be growing for the drive. CONNER the raccoon will gain ONLY MUSCLE, while RENARD the lolf will gain ONLY FAT.
- As with most Growth Drives, things started out slow, but have ramped up as time went on and donations increased! For the last round, $1 = 10 lbs!
- To donate, follow this link to the Google Docs Form: http://goo.gl/forms/C0dRnPPujt
Your donation can go to one character or the other, or be split between the two however you like.
- Once you fill out the form, you will be directed to a Paypal link where you can then finalize your donation. Be sure you submit the donation in USD WHOLE DOLLAR AMOUNTS ONLY, please.
- The top donor for every round will be contacted the next day and be offered a FREE CAMEO in the following round's picture and story. If you are contacted, please respond with the needed references or descriptions of your character within 36 hours or your cameo will have to be forfeit.
- The top donor for the entire Growth Drive will also be contacted at its conclusion, and be offered a FREE PICTURE AND STORY COMMISSION COMBO of their character with either Renard and Conner, or Theo and Zataan at whatever size/shape they prefer!
- Don't have the funds to donate? No worries! As with prior Growth Drives, you can still FREE-VOTE IN THE COMMENTS SECTION on how the story goes by choosing Conner and Renard's next challenge. The choice with the most votes wins, of course.
- There are also DONATION GOALPOSTS that, if met, will unlock fun extras for the Growth Drive, such as cameos, side-story interviews, and even new outfits! The next donation goal is $1000.
- Donations and voting for Round One end Sunday, May 1st, 11:59 PM CST. Donations sent after this time will be submitted for the following round.
- As always, thanks for your support!
Art and Conner by Yours Truly
Story, Theo, and Renard provided by 
Renard_DeFleureax
Kale belongs to 
WinterWight
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Renard_DeFleureax
WinterWightThe cheshires Theo and Zataan focused their show on a very specific demographic, in the darker and stranger parts of the city. Their advertising was handled by Theo who, always a touch old fashioned, plastered the walls along alleyways with posters that looked like they should be advertising a Vaudeville act instead of reality TV. Skulking about these backways and hidden corners was a shifty looking sort; a large hyena in a long, flowing military coat. He picked a passerby’s pocket with dextrous fingers, frowned at the scant change he’d just filched, and then the posters caught his eye.
“Who the fuck are these two jokers?” He muttered. The posters showed Theo and Zataan prominently, flanking the show’s title on either side. At the bottom, there was a small blurb advertising tickets for the live recordings.
“Both look like they got shit worth stealing… maybe I’ve got time for a show tonight…”
****************
Renard had a bad feeling, which only made him hungry. The lolf, now sitting at nine hundred pounds, did not like how much time the cheshires spent whispering to one another, their smiles stretched to new limits.
“What do you think they’re going to do to us next?” Conner asked, rolling his massive shoulders and shifting in the seat he was wedged into. Both of them were still getting adjusted to their new wardrobes. Ater their Candyland adventure, they were forced to face the fact that the singlets were no longer working, and the Cheshires were only too happy to provide them with new outfits; posing trunks.
Renard swallowed another donut; he had been left with a small mountain to sate his appetite. “I don’t know, but we need to make a plan to get out of this. We need to beat them at their own game.”
Conner frowned, already bouncing his pecs and looking down at his swollen chest as if it might disappear at any moment. “Yeah, but…”
“Conner. If you still want to be big, I can help you get there when we’re back to normal, I promise. But I can’t… urph…” He paused to gobble down another treat. “It’s nice, eating whatever I want, and I can get comfortable with all this… soft padding, but it’s not me.”
The raccoon held up his hands in defence. “Okay, maybe you’re right. But what can we do?”
Renard gestured with an eclair. “We have to ruin this show, don’t we? We have to avoid gaining any more weight. If we can do that, they’ll get bored and put us back to normal.”
Conner grumbled, looking away as he tensed his bicep, watching it swell up.
“Conner!” Renard jutted out his fat hand. “Are we together on this, or not?”
The raccoon sighed, and shook the lolf’s hand. “We are.”
The Cheshires approached them now, smiling wide. “Dear Mr. De Fleureaux, Mr. Coon,” Theo bowed floridly. “We certainly have to thank you for being such good sports during this show.”
“This has been a real laugh for both of us,” Zataan said, “and we’re almost done with the season.”
“Oh yeah? What’re you going to do with us after, then?” Renard rumbled, his chipmunk cheeks wobbling indignantly.
Zataan chuckled. “We’re cats of our word, Renny. You’ll be put back to the way you were before this show, we promise.”
“So… what’s this episode going to be?” Conner asked.
“We’ll be going a bit freeform… you will be issuing dares to each other,” Theo explained, and the tempo of his voice picked up considerably. “The rules are simple; you will take turns coming up with a challenge, and the challenger will gamble a certain amount of weight. If you lose, you win double the weight you betted, and if you win, you lose the given weight.”
The huge raccoon blinked. “Wait, wait... so if we win, we lose, and if we lose, we--”
“Yes, Mr. Coon, precisely,” Theo’s smile widened, tapping his nose. “Nothing gets past you. Now, we go live in just half an hour, so we’ll leave you to freshen up.”
Renard rocked himself in his seat, his bulbous belly jiggling and swaying as he built up the momentum to push himself into a standing position. “Now, hold on just a minute--!”
The Cheshires disappeared in a puff of smoke, leaving a frustrated lolf with another donut inexplicably in his hand.
“See?” Renard turned to Conner, biting into the donut ferociously. “They’re trying to turn us around.”
Conner scratched his chin, which took some manuevering as his bicep mashed into his pec. “So… what do we do?”
Renard thought for a moment. “Theo said, if we lose, we… win weight. And flipped if we win. Yes?”
“I… think so?”
“So,” Renard waddled, trying to pace. “All we need to do is bet low and win our bets. Right?”
Conner blinked. “...Yes? So, we need to give each other easy bets to win.”
“Exactly. Well, let’s get ready, then.” Renard gathered a plate of donuts, and waddled off to his dressing room.
In another part of the cavernous studio, the hyena thief was skulking about. Called Kale, he was tremendously disappointed so far. There was almost nothing around here. Nothing tangible, at least. He was on the trail of some powerful magic, the residue of which was as easy for him to detect as a strong smell. Still, all he could find thus far was some spare change left lying about. Maybe he ought to ditch this place…
“I say, Mr. C,” Theo’s voice carried from their shared dressing room. Hearing the voice, Kale plastered himself against the wall to hear better.
“Do you think we’re being entirely fair to Mr. De Fleureaux and Mr. Coon?”
Zataan chuckled. “Why, Theo, you’re not going soft on me, are you? They’re fine. We’re having fun, the audience is having fun, and I’ve seen the way you’ve been eyeing Conner now that he’s built like a tank… even Renard’s gut seems to be very distracting to you.”
Kale could hear the one called Theo suppressing a purr. “That may be true… but then I see him staring daggers at me, and it does take some of the fun out of it. I’ve had some of my clients plan assassination on me before-- it’s why I don’t do anymore work in religious organizations. Attempted exorcisms are ever so tiresome.”
“Well, Renard’s getting plenty big as it is… maybe we can cut him some slack. Though are you sure…? He’d make a nice bed,” Zataan commented.
Theo hummed. “If we were talking about Mr. Coon I’d be more inclined… he’s considerably more amiable toward the whole thing than Mr. De Fleureaux.”
“That just makes Renard more fun to poke, even if he doesn’t feel it anymore under all that blubber.”
It was Theo’s turn to laugh. “That much is true… but I daresay, let’s not push him too far. I’d hate to have a falling out, he might never play with us again.”
Kale did his best to shift back to the shadows, out of sight of the two as they exited their dressing room after a long preening. A small smile was spreading across the hyena’s lips as he sauntered on into the now empty room. “So… they don’t want the fat one pushed too far?” He murmured to himself, rifling through the drawers and pocketing any loose odds and ends that looked sufficiently shiny or expensive. “Maybe I’ll push him off a fuckin’ cliff, then,” he snickered. The sense of magic was incredibly strong in here; on Theo’s desk, a large, ornate oaken affair right out of the middle ages, he found the cat’s notes. The rules to the dare challenge had been quickly scribbled out on a scrap of paper, which Kale pocketed, and then he found what had drawn him to the room- Theo’s private stash.
Hidden away in a false drawer, there were about a dozen vials and crystal bottles, all an array of bright fluorescent colors, and all of them decorated with little tags titled “Drink Me!” Feeling drawn to a vial with hot pink liquid, Kale’s intuition told him what it was used for. He quickly slipped out with his bounty, and started stalking through the studio to find the Cheshires’ two hapless contestants.
Kale found Renard’s room first; it wasn’t hard, as there was a literal bread crumb trail made up of the debris of God knows how many pastries and sweets leading to it. Looking over Theo’s notes for a quick revision, Kale knocked, putting on his best face.
Entering the room, he found the lolf obsessively stuffing his face. “Hey, uh… you need me to come back at another time, man?”
“Whath?” Renard said with his mouth full, and then swallowed. “Who’re you?”
“Let’s just say… I’m a concerned party. A fan, even. I know you, big guy. You used to do the bodybuilding circuit, yeah? You were in all those ads for plus sized men’s clothes?”
Renard arched a brow at Kale. “Yeah…?”
“And those two technicolor felines… they did this to ya, didn’t they? The whole…” he blew up his cheeks and held out his arms in front of his middle in a huge circle, “thing, right?”
“...They did. What’s your point?”
Kale smirked. “Well, buddy, I just gotta ask, are you fuckin’ stupid?”
Renard glowered. “I beg your pardon?”
The hyena held up his hands. “Hey, hey, I’m just sayin’, you can’t trust these clowns. They told ya if you lose, you win weight, right?”
Renard shrugged. “I mean, Theo said it so fast and poofed away before we could get clarification, but yeah.”
“But so far, you winning has made you blimp up like you were owned by fuckin’ Goodyear. So, here’s what I’m thinkin’... you losing means you ‘win’ weight. But to you, winning would be getting rid of the weight, and that’s exactly what the Cheshires don’t want you to know. You throw your bet, and you can lose enough weight to slip on out of here,” Kale explained, snatching a few of Renard’s treats when the lolf wasn’t paying attention to his hands.
“That… does make a certain amount of sense…” Renard muttered.
“Hey, I’m just here to help. Hope it works out for you, big guy,” Kale said, saluting with an eclair. As soon as he was out of earshot, he sniggered. “One down, one to go,” he said, swishing the hot pink liquid around in its crystal container.
Finding Conner’s room was easy as well; he just had to listen for the sound of slamming weights. Conner was at a makeshift bench press Jose had left him, lifting what appeared to be enough weight to represent a decent sized van.
Kale whistled low as Conner lifted himself up from the bench. “You’ve really gotten into this whole muscle man thing, haven’t you?”
Conner swerved around. “Hey, who are you?”
Kale shrugged. “Hey, I’m just a friend. Listen… couldn’t help but notice you seem a little more into your muscles than you let on.”
“Yeah? What do you care?”
The hyena smirked, tossing him the vial. “Just want you to keep ahead. You’re gonna win your bet, right?”
“Uh… yeah, gonna try to, anyways.” Conner squinted, looking at the small vial in his meaty hand. “What’s this for?”
“Just a little treat from the cat’s private stash. You drink that, you can give up as much weight as you want, and still be huge. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” Kale asked.
Conner scratched his head, his bicep colliding with his cheek. “I- I mean… have you been talking to Renard, or something? Did he send you?”
The hyena shrugged. “Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. All you need to think about is… are you really ready to give up your gains? Just a thought, buddy.”
Before Conner could respond, Kale already slipped out. The raccoon frowned, looking down at the Cheshire’s potion, and began to think.
********
“Thank you, Ladies and Gentlemen, for joining us on another exciting episode of Bigger is Better,” Theo announced as the spotlight came on him.
Immediately, Zataan tackled him, wrestling the green cat out of the spotlight before popping back up and dusting off his Tuxedo jacket. “We’re looking forward to tonight’s episode, where our two contestants will issue challenges to each other. Their size is on the line, so let’s see how much weight they’ll be ready to gamble away--”
Theo came up from behind Zataan and soundly hit him on the head, his smile never wavering as he kicked the unconscious purple feline out of the spotlight. “Or indeed, how much more weight they can handle. Now, on with the show! At 925 pounds, the inestimable Mr. Renard De Fleureaux…”
There was a wave of hollering and laughter as Renard waddled on to stage, still tugging on his posing trunks to keep them from riding up his overgrown posterior.
“And at a whopping 1055 pounds, Mr…” Theo’s smile faltered as Conner lumbered on to stage. “Mr. Coon…”
The raccoon looked positively overgrown. His muscles were more swollen than ever, and each step of his titanic legs made the ground shake. His face was wedged into the crevice of his heaving pecs, and his arms were propped up at an angle from his flaring flanks.
“Mr. C…” Theo hissed to Zataan, who had regained his consciousness. “What on earth did you do?”
“I don’t know what you mean, Theo, that’s not my handiwork. It reeks of you. Are you really stooping to cheating? At this point?” Zataan hissed back through his teeth, neither one losing their smiles.
“I didn’t do this. I smell a rat,” Theo fired back.
“Hm…” Zataan rumbled.
“You don’t believe me, then?”
Zataan subtly shook his head. “No, worse. I think you’re telling the truth.”
Renard’s jaw dropped as he looked up at Conner. “Dude, what’d you do to yourself?”
“Don’t worry,” Conner winked. “It’s all part of the plan. I’m ready to win your bet, just like we said.”
“Well, actually, Conner, I had a visitor, and I think--”
“Well, gentlemen!” Theo had recovered, wedging himself between the two oversized contestants. “You know the rules; you each issue a dare, and you each gamble a certain weight. Now… if you’d write down your wagers…” the two were issued pens and scraps of paper, and quickly scribbled down numbers, which Theo snatched up. “Perfect, gentlemen… now, let’s see… Mr. De Fleureaux, why don’t you start us off?”
Renard scratched his chin. They had to lose, right? Or at least, he had to. Conner looked like he could lift whole buildings, now… what couldn’t he do? He thought back to when he was built like that; or at least, when he was still in car-lifting shape. What was the worst part of being that big…?
He snapped his fingers as he got an idea. “Okay, I got it. Conner, I dare you…” he looked around, and grabbed a post-it note left on one of the cameras. Waddling around the procyon mountain, he stuck the note square in the middle of Conner’s geographical landmass of a back. “I dare you to reach that post-it note on your back.”
“Uh… yeah, yeah, no problem…” Conner lifted his huge arms, and tried reaching them beyond his shoulders, but his own biceps got in the way; they would only constrict so far, before slamming into his shoulder blades. Grunting and straining harder than he had at any workout, the raccoon tried contorting his great bulk, but he could barely twist his gigantic arms to reach his waist, never mind his back. He looked over to the audience, and he spotted Kale, who gave him the thumbs-up. Maybe Renard was trying to trick him, or it was simpler than he thought, but he had to try. He jumped up and down, shaking the floor where he landed and leaving cracks in the concrete, but he got lucky; the post-it note fluttered off, and he caught it in his hand, and lift it up in victory to the delight of the audience.
Zataan clapped appreciatively. “A very valiant effort, Conner! Now… what’re you gonna make Renard do?”
Conner frowned. Renard was still his friend, even if he possibly tried to sabotage him… he’d give Renard an easy one. But he’d put him into a headlock backstage and find out why he almost made him lose. “Alright… Renard, I dare you to… do one jumping jack.”
Renard blinked. “Just one?”
Conner nodded after a moment. “Uh, yeah. Just one.”
Renard grimaced, but looked out to the audience. Kale was there, shaking his head. He had to lose this one.
Taking in a deep breath, Renard puffed up his cheeks and belly to look even fatter, putting on a great show of struggling to even get his fat-swaddled arms up and hopping listlessly on his feet. It actually would be pretty hard, but he could still muster up one jumping jack. But still, he had a dare to lose. Summoning up his theater training from high school, he put a hand to his forehead. “Oh, no! I just can’t do it! I’m far too fat and weak to complete the bet!”
Theo grinned, opening the two papers with their bets written on it. “Well, Mr. De Fleureaux, in that case, it looks like--” Again, Theo’s smile faltered as his eyes bulged, quickly putting the two numbers together. “A-are you absolutely certain, Mr. De Fleureaux? We all know you’ve got it in you.”
“Oh, come on, Theo, you can’t show your favoritism now,” Zataan put on a grand smile for the audience. “If he forfeits, then we have a winner, and Renard is going to-- yikes.” Zataan’s smile faltered too when he saw the numbers.
Kale was just off stage, having pilfered just a few more things from the Cheshires’ room. He wanted a good view of this.
“W-well,” Theo cleared his throat. “As Mr. Coon won his bet, his wager was for 175 pounds… Mr. Coon, you will transfer those 175 pounds.”
“Wait.” Renard’s face blanched. “What do you mean transfer?”
“And Renard, you wagered… 700 pounds. That’s going to be doubled.” Zataan explained.
Conner and Renard exchanged looks.
“Mr. De Fleureaux, you’ve won 1575 pounds.” Theo snapped his fingers.
There was strange sensation washing over Conner; it was like a bit of air had been let out of him. His muscles shrunk, but only a bit, down to more manageable levels.
But the transformation Renard went through put anything else on the show to shame. It was as if he were Violet Beauregarde in Wonka’s Chocolate factory, but instead of turning into a blueberry, he was turning into dough. His cheeks swelled up to near spherical proportions, sagging into his chins, and his belly erupted, surging forward as if he’d just burst out of a corset, ballooning at such a rapid pace, the sudden weight imbalance knocked him off his feet on to his quickly expanding rear, stretching his posing trunks to their absolute limit. Rolls of fat cascaded down his back as his belly’s expansion finally slowed. The lolf was panting heavily, his head swimming from the sudden transformation.
Theo rushed over, and in a surprising move of gallantry, tried to steady the doughy lolf. “W-well! There you have it, Ladies and Gentlemen! Tune in next week!” He forced a smile as he heaved Renard’s fat-swaddled arm over his shoulders. “Mr. De Fleureaux, for once, I apologize, we didn’t intend a growth of this magnitude… how do you feel?”
“...hungry,” Renard panted.
Kale turned on his heel and snuck off; it had been a fun afternoon.
There's one final challenge to be met! But what could it possibly be??A- A sprawling, twisting Labyrinth
B- A pulse-pounding wrestling match
C- A simple race to the finish line
Category All / Fat Furs
Species Mammal (Other)
Size 980 x 700px
File Size 411.2 kB
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