#corpulentcontrol

Though the last anyone's seen of Vodka is being too fat to even depart her mobility scooter

"Huuuoooarrrrppp-!"

After a certain point, lugging herself off and on her scooter became too much of a hassle. And when those rare bursts of exertion were cut out of Vodka's routine, her gain sped up enough that she lost the ability to get off it, even if she wanted. The tomboy looked more like a melting scoop of ice cream than an Uma, belly folds drooping from either side of the scooter that she'd become recognizable for. With backfat lifting her hair up somewhat, her uniform practically plastered on her multitude of shapeless rolls, and her messy chins scrunched up as she chugged along on her mobility device, she was totally unrecognizable from the Vodka in those racing clips from a few years back.

Vodka had a sense of pride in her scooter, which she'd deluded herself into thinking was her trusty motorcycle. It had virtually become permanently part of her. When in line at the cafeteria, she looked as if she was waiting at a drive-thru, piling as much food as she can manage into her scooter's tray. And whenever she needed to sleep or felt an imminent food coma, all she had to do was slump over in her seat and start snoring no matter where she was.

" If you had no plans, then there's no need in forcing it.. We're all given the right to celebrate how we prefer, " Her eyes had refrained from wandering out of Sirius' gaze, drifting towards the open crack of the door into the dorm. Only ever snapping back when the other uma's lips began to twitch,

" It's far too late to celebrate anywhere.. Peculiar. " Her lips curled into a grin, " But, the cafeteria staff are still here for another hour. I doubt they'd refuse a few requests, would a cake be enough? "

“Tch you just don’t give up… fucking— fine, fine! We’ll go eat a stupid cake just… you know what, fuck you, no, I’m going like this it’s my damn birthday I get to choose…”

The Uma, weighing roughly 620lbs, opened the door, and used her bariatric heavy-duty “Big Bounder 1000” wheelchair to come out of her room.

With an injury that broke one of her legs nearly a decade ago, by now she could technically walk using a walker, but it hurt, so on most days she opted for her wheelchair instead.

She came out dressed very inappropriately for the occasion, wearing tight, practically see through grey sweatpants, and a bra she wore exclusively so her ginormous boobs don’t pull on her back uncomfortably when she played her video games for 16 hours straight.

" It would be impossible since Orfevre is wider than the starting gate " They said.

" It would be impossible since Orfevre can't be without her oxygen tank " They said.

" It would be impossible since she lost sensibility in her legs a while ago " They said.

But since when did the Tyrant cared about the words of simple peasants?

" Uughghnh.... "

An entire medical staff to her side, a huge crowd of fans? Or people with enough morbid curiosity to see if this is even possible...

" BUuuOOUuUOOUUUOOUuuUURP "

After her 3rd lunch and gulping enough of that weird substance to keep her body steady, she was ready.

" Nghhh... "

Back and forth, almost 30 minutes of gaining enough momentum and...

STOMP!

The tyrant made it, one step. One that leaved a huge denture in the track, while she was sweating like crazy, it was one step... now she just needed to waddle towards the finish line.

Good luck they rented the stadium for all day...

Oooo... I think Admire Groove calls to me a bit more, but honestly it's a little hard to say at the moment. At the end of the day, these are characters I haven't really met, so it's hard to really conceptualize what I'd get out of them, but...

Just going out of appearance, since I think Admire Groove looks cooler... she seems to have some sort of bitter one-sided rivalry with a gluttonous and also unhinged Uma who also dresses like this.

I think we have a winner of the two.

Also I'm not letting this slip by me either.

" Faust holds the right to refuse to speak on any matter that was claimed, but should it be reminded; The experiences one's Identity from the mirror is only a feeling from proOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAURplonged exposure. "

Whatever "snack" that held back Faust's need for a third lunch had sprayed out in the form of crumbs and drool, lining that crevice between her breasts in a new layer until the genius can bother to brush away the remains.

Having been reminded, the woman would simply expel another to keep her stomach satiated for the time being. "Squeezing" her chest into a single roll with the help of her upper arms, the crinkling of wrappers faint until a bag emerged from her personal storage.

"Rodion." Said with her cheeks puffed and a sprinkle of crumbs adorning her face fat. "If most businesses were required to practice standard HR rulings, I'd have it be shared on how you manage to violate every possible dress code rule. Of course, Faust has considered an agreement. Treat Faust out, and the only action you'll have to be concerned about is repaying the company card. "

"HA." "It really is somethin' how despite lookin' like a mountain of soft served ice cream, absolutely READY to start seepin' and leakin' out of the cone, you still can't help but find a way to try and write my name down on that pink checkboard one thousand times over..." It's then that Rodion would properly approach Faust, or more so, wobble towards Faust. Eventually meeting in the same way that they usually did in talks like these.

Gut to Gut, with all the stomach groans, moans, and uneven breaths being able to be felt as close as they could get.

"Also treat ya out? Pfft."

Heartbreaking Gluttonous gyaru is making Endfield operators do her hedonistic bidding in exchange for ???