Checking in on everyone's favorite motorcyclist
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.
She's become so hopelessly attached to her "motorcycle", that when it inevitably breaks under her mass, she'll refuse to get a new one, opting for the path of immobility instead.













