Rocket has finally made it to Christmas, with a belly like a bowl full of way too much jelly. He's too big to handle, and may just stick around for every last Christmas dinner leftover he can find...

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Art by  silver-stag

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"Guardians, copy! Does anyone have their sights on Rocket?" Peter shouted into his comm control as he rushed down the streets of St. Charles, Missouri, craning his neck. "Come on, guys! Do you copy? He's a raccoon the size of a parade float, how hard can he be to find!?"

"I am Groot," Groot replied.
"I've got nothing, Quill," Gamora reported.

"Drax? C'mon, buddy, what do you have for me?"

"I… I found him."

"Great, finally! I'll be right there!"

By the time Peter caught up with Drax, the Kylosian had a thousand yard stare as he stood outside a warehouse.

"Drax? Buddy, what's the matter? Where's Rocket?" Peter asked.

Drax pointed absent-mindedly towards the warehouse. "I… I have never seen anything with the appetite that thing possesses. He unhinged his jaw like a Sakaar python and swallowed this flank of earth meat whole. Quill, I ask very few things, but please do not put my bunk next to his. I fear he would try to bite my hand off while I sleep."

Peter Quill stared at Drax for a moment, before patting his shoulder. "...Okay. Well. You don't worry about it anymore, Drax, I got it covered." He prepared his blasters and charged inside the warehouse, but when he kicked the doors in, he immediately stopped. All around were toppled shelves and mountains of empty food wrappers and cans, and in the center, a furry grey boulder that only became clear when Peter took a few tentative steps forward.

"Rocket?"

"Oh! Quill, finally, someone- URRRP! To get me out of here!" Rocket smacked his enormous, roiling gut, letting a violently loud belch escape as he did. The dimensions of the raccoon beggared belief; his enormous belly sprawled out on the floor like a tidal wave made of gelatin, smothering his keg-sized, blubbery thighs and weighing down on a rear large enough to crush the Milano. Reams of back fat were piled on top of one another like a melting wedding cake, his flabby arms were wrapped in thick reams of fat, and his chest was like a pair of overstuffed pillows, plumped and fluffed. Rings of extra chins met his jaw and round cheeks, with Rocket licking off chocolate frosting from his sausage fingers.

"Earth food is amazing. We gotta stay for Christmas!" Rocket declared.

"No, Rocket, we're going to go now." Peter countered.

"Nah. I don't think so." Rocket smirked.

"You-" Peter gestured to the raccoon's gelatinous body. "You think you're in a position to argue with me right now?"

"Hey, Quill, you wanna break your back gettin' all this," Rocket smacked his belly, sending ripples across its globular surface, and forcing another burp out of his mouth, "Outta here, only to find I'm too heavy for the Milano to fly, hey, that's on you. Or…"

"Or what?"

Rocket smirked wider, folding his arms over his doughy chest. "Or, you get me as much Christmas food as I want, and then I'll tell you where I hid the Milano's neutron compulsor- and how to manipulate the artificial gravity to get me outta here." Rocket chuckled at Peter's dumbfounded expression. "Hey, Quill, c'mon, I thought you'd know better by now! Don't ever come between me and what I'm after. So, grab me another ten pound ham and we'll celebrate the holidays earth style."