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Artwork (Digital) / Fat Furs
Species Alligator / Crocodile
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More from Dragontzin
A friend made me aware of the existence of this character. He is a cereal mascot for a rebranding proposed to the company Grupo Arcor in Argentina. He is part of the "Guardianes del Planeta" (Guardians of the Planet) line of cereal mascots. He was made by an artist called Nico Abatemarco. The cereal is sold in little bags instead of cardboard boxes, and is branded as having a taste of popcorn. I have never had the cereal, and all I know is from very cursory research.
Furthermore, I have no authority or right to give this character (who, mind you, as far as I can tell, doesn't even have a name) any lore.
Having said that, strap on, because here is my headcannon:
This crocodile athlete in the prime of his sports career, decided to earn some easy money signing up for some deals with a certain cereal brand, without looking too deep into the tiny print on the contract for this particular gig. One assumes it can't deviate too much from the standard: some regulatory paperwork, then representatives agreeing on the schedule, the photoshoot on one, maybe two days, and then that's it, everyone packs their bags, and money appears in account a few days later. Easy, simple, straightforward.
But what would be our hero's surprise, when a few days after the photoshoot, a van with the cereal company's logo knocks on the door, ready to deliver crate after crate of the product. Not only that, but the sales rep stops by and gleefuly explains that by signing their terms and conditions, for the upcoming year, our crocodilian friend agreed to upload a daily vlog to all his social media, called "Crocfast Time" where he would have to film himself sharing his daily thought (and positive remarks) from the moment he opened a pre-packaged portion of his new favourite cereal, recording the most important meal of the day, until the last croc-shaped flake had been consumed.
Sounds easy right?
That's what our yellow-hued fellow thought, but the first attempts were hideous. He would ramble off about some personal matters, or the entire shot was out of focus. It was a disaster. The first week had been a mere trial, so no one in the greater public had to endure such low-quality entertainment. But it caused the company to take drastic measures. And these drastic measures materialized as a personal assistant, who would help him recording, and assess his performance during "Crocfast Time!".
From there, it was smooth sailing for the most part. Sure once or twice per week, he would feel himself performing poorly, so with a quick signal to Reggie, his assistant, the camera would filming, the table would be cleaned back up, and they would start annew, grabbing an unopened package of cereal, and ready to give it a another shot.
All the preparing, doing and redoing of "Crocfast Time" started to dig into his training schedule. He would arrive late to his practices or choose to skip them entirely. He was still earning money, and that life felt far cushier than having to overexert himself over hours and hours of intense training. Plus Reggie was fun to hang out. He introduced the croc into the wonder of videogames, and he soon prooved to be quite an opponent.
Unbeknownst to the crocodile. who assummed his fast metabolism could handle the change in habits, the onslaught of a hyper-sugary breakfast, followed by extended periods of sedentary routine started to take a toll on his lean figure. Gradually, the trim waist widened, and his midsection started accumulating a round cache of pudge. Nothing too aparent, thanks to the mastery of camera angles from Reggie.
But the lithe athlete was no more. His now-biweekly cardio session would render him a panting puddle of jiggling sweaty spandex. And despite the scoldings he got from his personal trainer, he couldn't help but pop a couple cereal portions open, while his favourite game booted up. He had developed quite a liking to the popcorn taste of the sugary croc-shaped flakes.
Half a year had passed, and our hero had settled into his new routine: breakfast vlog, gaming session only interrupted by snacking breaks, a midday nap to digest the food eaten all morning, and some PR and outreach activities planning for future content on the evenings. With even more snacking, of course. Once a week he would stroll by the gym, waddle for fifteen minutes in a treadmill and call it a day, beelining towards the juice bar, much to the chagrin and dispair of his personal trainer, to get a thick, decadent, "recovery" shake. Not content with the over 700 calories that the drink supplied, he would conspicuously add the pre-crushed content of one of those cereal baggies as a flavourful topping that had become a staple of his diet. Absolute bliss.
But all good things must come to an end, and one fateful day, he would receive an unexpected call. A call from the sales rep. The one who explained the small print on his contract. The contract that had upended his life as an athelete, and by this time, had undeniably made him pack a few extra pounds around his waist. There was no way of avoiding that any longer. But it was fine. He had done some soul-searching. Certainly speaking his mind out loud to his fans every morning had been quite therapeutinc and motivating! He had given up some things to pursue others. He had plenty of downtime to think about that over the lockdown period. He had come out on the other side feeling better about himself... and yet...
"Hey! The mascot gig was cool... Yeah, quarantine's been... y'know" His ample girth gurgled. "... good."
On the other side of the line, the suited gentleman spoke with seriousness and gravitas. Photoshoot? What was this photoshoot he was talking about? Contract? Why was he using the future tense? There was no way he wanted him... to... appear...
*gulp*
The crocodile took a glance at the T-shirt that hung framed on his wall. From those glory days where he was part of the Guardians, his sportsball team. Last time he used the shirt must have been months ago, and it had endured some substantial stretching back then. There was no way he could stuff his current body into that piece of polyester... at least not without some ripping involved.
"What do you mean photoshoot?" On the other line, the date and time was repeated with haste, before the call was dropped. Ohh shoot...
Contrary to his expectations, even when the next few weeks the corpulent crocodile tried with all his might (and what little self restraint was left deeply burried under layers upon layers of adipose) to go back to his healty habits, it barely made a dent. He went back to eating leafy greens, and drinking nothing but sugar-free fruit infused water, except of course for his legaly-binding now three regular bags of cereal as breakfast. He took up jogging around the block, causing tremors as his tail dragged and thumped on the sidewalk. He gave weight lifting and jumping rope a try, only to find out that he was beyond out-of-shape. Little stamina and strenght was left after months of laying idle spending hours in front of a screen.
And thus the day inexorably approached, and the number on the scale, as read by Reggie, just barely stayed constant. His barge-sized body was irrecognizable as the former epitome of physical fitness. A permanent blush took up residence across his jiggling jowls, as he made his way to the filming location, in a car that made him feel like a tuna stuffed into a can of sardines.
The photoshoot was terr... iffic!!
Not a single comment was made about his unfathomable fattness, or his unconcealed appetite during the filming. It was as if everythign was part of the plan... as if everyone was expecting this outcome. They even had updated the dressing room so that every garment had the appearance of medium-sized camping tents. Plus, they had entire tables filled to the brim with all sorts of cereal-based treats. And the cherry on top was that the actual filming involved him absolutely ploughing through several cereal packs. And he had to repeat the scene multiple times... for no deliberate fault of his own (or maybe a little).
Turns out that the executives had been keeping close tabs on the daily vlog, and all the intel that Reggie provided to the company, about the crocodile's lifestyle shift. Not only that, but they had seen that after the lockdown periods, the young consumers craved for a role model who didn't feign resiliance and instead embodied the difficulties of having to spend time isolated at home. As the reptile grew, so did the viewer numbers, exploding as he began bursting out of belts and shredding through XL shirts.
From then on, all bets were off. His representative struck a deal with the cereal company to extend his contract, now with no more sketchy fine print. And while he could no longer fill in the position of an athlete, he had actually earned some recognition in the e-sports community. So he committed to turn his daily vlog into a game-oriented stream. Of course, the packages of cereal were omnipresent in every take... in all the corners that his sizeable bulk didn't already obscure. No more uncomfortable excercising, no more awkward lunges, and pointless cycling in place going absolutely nowhere. No more restraining his inner glutton. No more portion sizes. No more calorie counting. No more of any of that.
Which brings us to today. Having woken up, and rolled (or rather ebbed) off his bed, with the help of Reggie. In a humorous bout, to celebrate two years of signing his contract, his personal assistant had removed the Guardians' jersey from its frame, and stretched it as far as it could go around the the golden scales of his overflowing torso. He had to order a pair of custom-made shorts that would conceal his thighs, and would match his sportsball uniform. They had been fitted a few weeks ago and they already felt uncomfortably tight.
He stood in front of a full-body mirror clad in the comically undersized uniform. And full-body was a gross understatement, as it could only show but the tiniest sliver of his abundant adipose. His rolls fought for space constantly, and limited his movement like buckets of dense dough strapped to his arms, legs, tail, chest, neck, and primarily, belly. He looked at himself almost incredulous at his transformation. His smile caused his plentiful cheeks to dimple, as they pushed against his tyre of a neck. Even his long snout had begun to be engulfed by his expanding girth. At this rate, he would need a forklift to move around. Mobile or not, his confidence was unscathed:
"Yep... still got it!" He told to his reflection, gut rumbling, demanding its daily dose of cereal: part of a well balanced diet.
This happened. I regret nothing. Blame the people who showed this character to me, and my weakness for round reptiles.
So incase you crave some visuals, like our protagonist craves cereal, let me help you out:
1. This is the original character in question: FIRST
2. Luke (@FattyDragonite) made his own take on this crocodile, and I had to incorporate his scenario into the little story I made. It's my headcanon, I do what I want!: SECOND
3. This image I made of the croc guy being an absolute chonker and liking it.
There you go! I hope you like this crazy adventure.
Crocodile from Guardiantes del Planeta © Arcor, originally designed by Nico Abatemarco
Artwork © yours truly,
dragontzin
Furthermore, I have no authority or right to give this character (who, mind you, as far as I can tell, doesn't even have a name) any lore.
Having said that, strap on, because here is my headcannon:
~~~~~~This crocodile athlete in the prime of his sports career, decided to earn some easy money signing up for some deals with a certain cereal brand, without looking too deep into the tiny print on the contract for this particular gig. One assumes it can't deviate too much from the standard: some regulatory paperwork, then representatives agreeing on the schedule, the photoshoot on one, maybe two days, and then that's it, everyone packs their bags, and money appears in account a few days later. Easy, simple, straightforward.
But what would be our hero's surprise, when a few days after the photoshoot, a van with the cereal company's logo knocks on the door, ready to deliver crate after crate of the product. Not only that, but the sales rep stops by and gleefuly explains that by signing their terms and conditions, for the upcoming year, our crocodilian friend agreed to upload a daily vlog to all his social media, called "Crocfast Time" where he would have to film himself sharing his daily thought (and positive remarks) from the moment he opened a pre-packaged portion of his new favourite cereal, recording the most important meal of the day, until the last croc-shaped flake had been consumed.
Sounds easy right?
That's what our yellow-hued fellow thought, but the first attempts were hideous. He would ramble off about some personal matters, or the entire shot was out of focus. It was a disaster. The first week had been a mere trial, so no one in the greater public had to endure such low-quality entertainment. But it caused the company to take drastic measures. And these drastic measures materialized as a personal assistant, who would help him recording, and assess his performance during "Crocfast Time!".
From there, it was smooth sailing for the most part. Sure once or twice per week, he would feel himself performing poorly, so with a quick signal to Reggie, his assistant, the camera would filming, the table would be cleaned back up, and they would start annew, grabbing an unopened package of cereal, and ready to give it a another shot.
All the preparing, doing and redoing of "Crocfast Time" started to dig into his training schedule. He would arrive late to his practices or choose to skip them entirely. He was still earning money, and that life felt far cushier than having to overexert himself over hours and hours of intense training. Plus Reggie was fun to hang out. He introduced the croc into the wonder of videogames, and he soon prooved to be quite an opponent.
Unbeknownst to the crocodile. who assummed his fast metabolism could handle the change in habits, the onslaught of a hyper-sugary breakfast, followed by extended periods of sedentary routine started to take a toll on his lean figure. Gradually, the trim waist widened, and his midsection started accumulating a round cache of pudge. Nothing too aparent, thanks to the mastery of camera angles from Reggie.
But the lithe athlete was no more. His now-biweekly cardio session would render him a panting puddle of jiggling sweaty spandex. And despite the scoldings he got from his personal trainer, he couldn't help but pop a couple cereal portions open, while his favourite game booted up. He had developed quite a liking to the popcorn taste of the sugary croc-shaped flakes.
Half a year had passed, and our hero had settled into his new routine: breakfast vlog, gaming session only interrupted by snacking breaks, a midday nap to digest the food eaten all morning, and some PR and outreach activities planning for future content on the evenings. With even more snacking, of course. Once a week he would stroll by the gym, waddle for fifteen minutes in a treadmill and call it a day, beelining towards the juice bar, much to the chagrin and dispair of his personal trainer, to get a thick, decadent, "recovery" shake. Not content with the over 700 calories that the drink supplied, he would conspicuously add the pre-crushed content of one of those cereal baggies as a flavourful topping that had become a staple of his diet. Absolute bliss.
But all good things must come to an end, and one fateful day, he would receive an unexpected call. A call from the sales rep. The one who explained the small print on his contract. The contract that had upended his life as an athelete, and by this time, had undeniably made him pack a few extra pounds around his waist. There was no way of avoiding that any longer. But it was fine. He had done some soul-searching. Certainly speaking his mind out loud to his fans every morning had been quite therapeutinc and motivating! He had given up some things to pursue others. He had plenty of downtime to think about that over the lockdown period. He had come out on the other side feeling better about himself... and yet...
"Hey! The mascot gig was cool... Yeah, quarantine's been... y'know" His ample girth gurgled. "... good."
On the other side of the line, the suited gentleman spoke with seriousness and gravitas. Photoshoot? What was this photoshoot he was talking about? Contract? Why was he using the future tense? There was no way he wanted him... to... appear...
*gulp*
The crocodile took a glance at the T-shirt that hung framed on his wall. From those glory days where he was part of the Guardians, his sportsball team. Last time he used the shirt must have been months ago, and it had endured some substantial stretching back then. There was no way he could stuff his current body into that piece of polyester... at least not without some ripping involved.
"What do you mean photoshoot?" On the other line, the date and time was repeated with haste, before the call was dropped. Ohh shoot...
Contrary to his expectations, even when the next few weeks the corpulent crocodile tried with all his might (and what little self restraint was left deeply burried under layers upon layers of adipose) to go back to his healty habits, it barely made a dent. He went back to eating leafy greens, and drinking nothing but sugar-free fruit infused water, except of course for his legaly-binding now three regular bags of cereal as breakfast. He took up jogging around the block, causing tremors as his tail dragged and thumped on the sidewalk. He gave weight lifting and jumping rope a try, only to find out that he was beyond out-of-shape. Little stamina and strenght was left after months of laying idle spending hours in front of a screen.
And thus the day inexorably approached, and the number on the scale, as read by Reggie, just barely stayed constant. His barge-sized body was irrecognizable as the former epitome of physical fitness. A permanent blush took up residence across his jiggling jowls, as he made his way to the filming location, in a car that made him feel like a tuna stuffed into a can of sardines.
The photoshoot was terr... iffic!!
Not a single comment was made about his unfathomable fattness, or his unconcealed appetite during the filming. It was as if everythign was part of the plan... as if everyone was expecting this outcome. They even had updated the dressing room so that every garment had the appearance of medium-sized camping tents. Plus, they had entire tables filled to the brim with all sorts of cereal-based treats. And the cherry on top was that the actual filming involved him absolutely ploughing through several cereal packs. And he had to repeat the scene multiple times... for no deliberate fault of his own (or maybe a little).
Turns out that the executives had been keeping close tabs on the daily vlog, and all the intel that Reggie provided to the company, about the crocodile's lifestyle shift. Not only that, but they had seen that after the lockdown periods, the young consumers craved for a role model who didn't feign resiliance and instead embodied the difficulties of having to spend time isolated at home. As the reptile grew, so did the viewer numbers, exploding as he began bursting out of belts and shredding through XL shirts.
From then on, all bets were off. His representative struck a deal with the cereal company to extend his contract, now with no more sketchy fine print. And while he could no longer fill in the position of an athlete, he had actually earned some recognition in the e-sports community. So he committed to turn his daily vlog into a game-oriented stream. Of course, the packages of cereal were omnipresent in every take... in all the corners that his sizeable bulk didn't already obscure. No more uncomfortable excercising, no more awkward lunges, and pointless cycling in place going absolutely nowhere. No more restraining his inner glutton. No more portion sizes. No more calorie counting. No more of any of that.
Which brings us to today. Having woken up, and rolled (or rather ebbed) off his bed, with the help of Reggie. In a humorous bout, to celebrate two years of signing his contract, his personal assistant had removed the Guardians' jersey from its frame, and stretched it as far as it could go around the the golden scales of his overflowing torso. He had to order a pair of custom-made shorts that would conceal his thighs, and would match his sportsball uniform. They had been fitted a few weeks ago and they already felt uncomfortably tight.
He stood in front of a full-body mirror clad in the comically undersized uniform. And full-body was a gross understatement, as it could only show but the tiniest sliver of his abundant adipose. His rolls fought for space constantly, and limited his movement like buckets of dense dough strapped to his arms, legs, tail, chest, neck, and primarily, belly. He looked at himself almost incredulous at his transformation. His smile caused his plentiful cheeks to dimple, as they pushed against his tyre of a neck. Even his long snout had begun to be engulfed by his expanding girth. At this rate, he would need a forklift to move around. Mobile or not, his confidence was unscathed:
"Yep... still got it!" He told to his reflection, gut rumbling, demanding its daily dose of cereal: part of a well balanced diet.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~This happened. I regret nothing. Blame the people who showed this character to me, and my weakness for round reptiles.
So incase you crave some visuals, like our protagonist craves cereal, let me help you out:
1. This is the original character in question: FIRST
2. Luke (@FattyDragonite) made his own take on this crocodile, and I had to incorporate his scenario into the little story I made. It's my headcanon, I do what I want!: SECOND
3. This image I made of the croc guy being an absolute chonker and liking it.
There you go! I hope you like this crazy adventure.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~Crocodile from Guardiantes del Planeta © Arcor, originally designed by Nico Abatemarco
Artwork © yours truly,
dragontzin
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fat Furs
Species Alligator / Crocodile
Size 1280 x 841px
File Size 188.8 kB
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