literature

The Talking Stomach, Ch. 4

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Alright, howdy everyone. I don't want to drag this part down with too much introduction, so let's jump right in.

Let's do this!

…Do you always have to have the last word?

Yes I do!



I'm sure my dress could feel the effects of my hour-long binge by the time we left the theater. It was already shockingly tight before I left; afterwards, though, there was definitely a more intense strain on the fabric trying to cover my entire bulging belly. Every move I made caused my huge, hanging stomach to wobble uncontrollably, and it was all on display in my skin-tight dress. The huge lump in my belly (or, more accurately, the huge lump that is my belly) stuck out quite a bit farther than it did when I left for the date.

And what a date it was! The movie was so-so, but the experience of watching it with Craig, who I was certain at that point was the nicest guy on Earth, was…incredible. He was an unbelievable gentleman, tending to my every beck and call without even a hint of impatience or frustration, which would've been understandable considering I sent him back to the concession stand three times. I was able to keep my palate constantly entertained with as many delicious flavor combinations as I could think of.

But the best was still to come: The Stand.

I've always really liked The Stand; it started off as nothing more than a travelling food cart that visited town once a month. It was a big hit with the locals; so big, in fact, that one day all the townspeople gathered around the stand and asked the owner to stay. Luckily, the owner agreed and decided to permanently set up shop. It's a cool little story for a cool little restaurant.

And The Stand honestly looks like it started out as a food cart. It's an all-wood building with a slightly worn-down appearance, kind of like an old sea shanty. It has an outdoor patio area that's usually pretty popular when the weather's nice, as it was that night. The inside is pretty plain and simple: just a bunch of tables and booths like you would expect from any restaurant, not a lot of decoration.

The food itself was the driving force behind The Stand's success. Its original menu selection consisted of only single and double cheeseburgers, corndogs, hotdogs, and chips. Now the menu contains everything from Philly cheesesteak, to gyros, to old fashioned chicken fried steak, and they're all delicious. The Stand can't really decide what kind of restaurant it wants to be, but honestly that's what made it so popular. Anything you feel like eating is on the menu.

Ironically though, the best thing on the menu didn't show up until years after The Stand became a big hit: malted milkshakes. Once they showed up, they positively exploded in popularity, and for good reason. They're just so thick and creamy and rich, all without being too overwhelming. And they top it off with this chocolate and powdered sugar mixture that's to die for.

Anyway, like I said earlier, it's tradition for couples to order milkshakes after seeing a movie, but after my revelation inside the theater I decided that that wouldn't quite be enough. Sure I was already pretty full from all the snacks, but I wasn't going to let that stop me from ordering a nice big meal.

Craig and I walked inside hand-in-hand; I was positively glowing, he was smirking his sexy little smirk. The hostess saw me walk in first (which I don't blame her for; I am an eyeful) and raised her brow derisively. (That is one thing I hate about The Stand: they always hire all the pretty bitches from my school.) However, the moment she looked a Craig, her other eyebrow shot up to join the other one. I grinned.

She blinked quickly as we strolled up to the counter. "H-hello, w-welcome to The Stand," she stuttered. "T-table for two?"

"Yes please," Craig replied.

Her jaw dropped; very slightly and only for a moment, but I caught it. "Umm…okay," she said. "You're waitress is, uhh…"

The waitress, a girl who I knew went to my school but whose name I couldn't quite place, strolled up to us, saw Craig, and immediately frowned. Then her eyes switched to me and her expression changed to one of complete confusion and anger. Her face froze like that for an embarrassing amount of time (very unprofessional in my opinion) before she remembered that she was actually supposed to be working.

"Hello, welcome to The Stand," she said coldly as the hostess handed her the menus. "Let, umm…let me show you to your seats."

We walked past the counter and my fatty hips "accidentally" bumped into the hostess. "Excuse me," I said haughtily before sauntering off, leaving the little bitch to stew in her own dumbfounded jealousy.

As our waitress led us through the grid-like layout of the restaurant, I took a quick, admiring glance at Craig and noticed a small change in his demeanor. He was still smiling his beautiful smile, but his eyes looked slightly unfocused, like he wasn't completely there. I followed his gaze and found it set firmly on the backside of the girl in front of us.

Just before I became offended, I finally remembered who she was: Amber Morrison, Craig's ex. Or, one of them. As was mentioned earlier, Craig had a small list of recent girlfriends, all of whom shared a few defining traits: a slight weight problem, and a fat ass. Most people would consider Amber relatively fat, with a slight potbelly that sometimes pooched out of the bottom of her shirt, a pair of plump breasts, some doughy upper arms, etc. Her face was surprisingly thin though.

But below the waist…Damn. Now, I'm completely straight…but even I could appreciate what a piece of work her ass was. It billowed out like a mushroom cloud beneath her waist, bulging out a good deal from the rest of her body in all directions. Her skin-tight khaki pants hugged every bloated inch of her rump, giving her an unfortunate set of panty lines that only served to emphasize the puffiness of her posterior. Every step she took sent her round butt popping one way or the other, having to compensate for the thickness of her upper thighs.  

After losing my train of thought for a moment, I suddenly realized what this meant for our date: Disaster. Craig's ex-girlfriend is waiting on us?! It felt like I was stuck in the middle of a sitcom, and the audience just went "Oooooh!!"

'But…No, no, we should still be fine,' I told myself. 'She'll probably pawn us off on one of the other waitresses.'

She sat us down in a two-person booth near the back, probably hoping that she'd be able to forget about us if we were out of sight. Scooting into the seat was a bit of a pain for me, since I couldn't suck in my stomach far enough to prevent it from scraping against the edge of the table; I started to think that maybe this was Amber's way of punishing me for being with her ex.

"So would you like some menus?" she asked, trying – and failing – to keep the spite out of her voice.

Craig waved her off. "No thanks," he said, "I think we'll just have a couple malt shakes."

"Um, actually…" I interrupted as Amber was about to walk away, "can I get a menu?" I looked at Craig meekly. "I'm a little hungry."

"Oh, okay," Craig replied. He seemed surprised for a moment, but he quickly recovered. "Then, uhh…I think I'll have a menu too, please."

I smiled at him as Amber subtly rolled her eyes, giving us two menus and walking away, muttering something about getting us our shakes. I didn't hear her properly; I was too busy staring dreamily at Craig. His charm, his thoughtfulness, his sincerity…It was all too much for me.

"Alright, well," Craig said, setting down his menu. "I uhh...need to go to the bathroom." He stood up, scratching the back of his head; he was so adorable. "I'll be right back."

He turned and headed toward the men's room, allowing me to follow his tight derriere with my eyes. Amber's ass may have been three times as large as his, but Craig's was one billion times hotter.

I rested my cheek in my hand and sighed dreamily as the bathroom door closed behind him, before turning my attention back to the menu in my hand and perusing through its pages, growing hungrier and hungrier by the second. My newly-acquired foodie-vision allowed me to envision each recipe not by their ingredients or the pictures shown, but by the various taste and texture combinations that made them up. I realized that, if viewed the right way, every meal I ate from then on could become more than just food; they could become full-blown experiences.

But then I realized…I was being incredibly selfish. Here Craig was, being this incredibly courteous, civil, and all-around great guy, and I was sucking him dry of all his money. Yes, I really wanted to enjoy the great food to its fullest extent…but not tonight. There'd be time for that later. Tonight, I'm on a date with Craig Green.

I decided to get the cheapest thing on the menu: a single hamburger…Well, might as well make it a cheeseburger. What's the point of a burger without cheese? Hell, a single cheeseburger isn't anything…I'll get a double; it's just a dollar more…And the fries aren't that expensive either…

"Excuse me," someone said to me, drawing my attention away from the menu. I looked up and saw Amber, looking at me with a familiar combination of anger and jealou-

Wait, that's not jealousy. That's…pity.

"You're, uhh…Brandy, right?" I nodded, but she had already kept going. "Look, I don't want to start anything, but I just thought…You might want to…I…"

She paused and took a breath to compose herself. "Craig isn't as good a guy as you…as he may seem right now." I opened my mouth to argue, but she raised a hand to stop me. "Just…If you don't believe me, go see for yourself."

She glanced over at the men's bathroom door, causing me to follow her gaze with my own, and by the time I looked back at her, she had already disappeared.

I stared at the space that Amber occupied mere moments ago, my eyes wide and mouth agape, before shaking my head and scoffing.

"Little bitch," I murmured to myself, turning my attention back to the menu. "Trying to tell me…"

Listen to her!

I jumped. Then I looked around to make sure no one saw me jump.

What are you doing still sitting here? my stomach shouted. Listen to her, and go see what Craig's doing in there!

What am I doing? I shot back. What the hell are you doing? Didn't you say you'd be silent?

I guess I was lying then. Brandy, listen to me: I. Do not. Trust. This guy. And apparently neither does this other chick.

Yeah well, that other chick is Craig's ex. I think she's probably a little biased.

Yeah, but I'm not. I've never met this guy in my life, but I knew I didn't like him the moment you met him. Doesn't that count for something?

First of all, yes, you were totally biased. Second, no, it doesn't count for anything.

Okay, whatever. You don't have to believe me; but at least give me a chance. If I'm wrong and he's actually the greatest guy in the universe, then I promise I will leave you alone. Please…Listen to me. Just this once.

I sat quietly for a moment, staring blankly at the men's bathroom door. Truthfully, it probably wouldn't hurt to check and see what Craig was up to. Yes, it could be misconstrued as a major lack of trust, but I don't think Craig would look at it that way. Besides, that would only be an issue if I got caught; I'm not the sneakiest person in the world, but even a heavy girl like me can probably stand outside the boy's room and listen to whoever's inside without getting caught…

And he has been in there for a while now…

I couldn't stave off my curiosity any longer. I slowly wedged my bulky self out of the booth, stood up, and waddled over to the door of the men's room. It was surprisingly thick; I could hear Craig's voice on the other side, but his words were too mumbled to be understood coherently.

But the fact that he was talking to someone, despite the fact that no one seemed to be responding to him, was enough to raise my suspicions. I had to get a little closer.

Do I dare barge into the men's room just to follow the advice of my date's ex-girlfriend and my own gut feeling?

Damn right, you dare.

So I bucked up my courage, held my breath, and pushed open the door…



CLIFFHANGER ENDING!

Oh, you bitch!

Okay, so this is not the ending, as you might have gathered. It'll be next time, I swear. And again, I don't want to give too much away, since it is the ending and it is a kinda important. I will say this, however: you're going to want to stick around for the end.

Yes you are.

Alright so…anything else you want to say, Ms. Always-Has-The-Last-Word?

Nope.

Nothing at all?

Nope, I'm good.

Okay, I'll go ahead and end it then.

Go ahead.

Alright everyone, see you next time.

See ya!

To be continued…

Just shut up and let the damn chapter end!

…Fine.

SHUT UP!
Aha! I told you I'd post something soon. Took a little bit longer than I thought, but not by much. So...Yeah, The Talking Stomach is finally...

Not over! Yes, after all that mention of this being the last chapter, my complete inability to predict chapter lengths wins out in the end. It was turning out a lot longer than I thought it was going to be, and I hadn't even gotten to the good part, so I decided to split it into two. But, and I swear it, the next part will finally be the end, and I'll be ready to move on to my next project.

Once again, I'd like to thank The-Eldest-Few2 for being so cool with me, and apologize for taking so long with the request. You're awesome dude, and I'm sorry.
:iconthe-eldest-few2:

Anyway, that's all I got. Comments/critique/advice are welcome, and I hope you enjoy!
© 2012 - 2024 Apelord
Comments10
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ghostunknown's avatar
Cliffhanger! Aaah! Hahaha just kidding
I'm glad you are still working on your series, I really like it! Keep up the good work!