from the big four

5 New ideas for outlining stories

Maybe you are tired of all outlining techniques out there… the snowflake, the skeletal, the summary, the visual map, you’ve tried them all. And, although they are great, nothing works anymore. Or never worked in the first place. Maybe, when you outline, you feel like the magic is gone, the story has already been told, you don’t need to write it anymore. Outlining makes your bored.

Then, you try going pantser, but you get lost to where your story should be going soon after the first plot point. Not outlining makes you lost.

Originally posted by murallamuerta

We need to jump outside the box of plotter and pantser. No one is 100% plotter, or 100% pantser. We are neither. In truth, we are explores, travelers, discoverers of beautiful stories, sometimes we have maps, sometimes we are following the unknown.

If we outline with fear and/or severity, we are doomed. Outlining is supposed to be on the creative side of the brain. It’s the whole picture of a drawing. Or the sketch of a sculpture. So, let’s try an artistic approach to outlining. 

1. TV Series:

For a moment, pretend that you are not writing a book, but a 15-episodes TV series. Write down a small paragraph to what should happen in each episode. Don’t worry about details, make it general. With 15 episodes planned out, you’ll have a clear view of the story. As you write, use the episodes as guidance.

This exercise helps you explore plot details.

2. Hours:

Think of your story as the hand of a clock, it has to run through twelves parts to close the circle. Draw a clock, but, instead of hours, write down plot points. Every hour should change the story somehow and guide the characters to a conclusion.

This exercise helps you keep track with the main plot.  

3. Branches

Picture your story as the branches of a tree. Better yet, grab a paper and draw your tree trunk. The trunk is the beginning of the story. Part the trunk into two big branches. These two branches are two different turns your story could take. From two big branches, create four smaller ones. At each split, create a new course for your story. At the end of the exercise, you’ll have many outlines to choose from.

This exercise helps you discover new possibilities.

4. Mixing

Mix the outline of two existing stories from books, movies or games to create your own. Very simple and easy. Write down one or more paragraphs on how these two stories would merge into one completely new.

This exercise helps you unravel new angles to old ideas. 

5. Tags

Make a list of 10 to 50 words of objects, colors, places, animals or even feelings. Pick three words randomly and try to incorporate them into your story.

This exercise helps you think outside the box.

You can try your favorite exercise, or all of them.

anonymous asked:

is the moon real

It is, but not in the traditional sense!

The moon is actually a major man-made satellite that is used to store all information that would absolutely NEED to be recovered in the case of mass human death, resulting in the endangerment of our species. To keep this information safe, NASA proposed that we keep it off-earth.

Currently, the moon is at 76% memory capacity, as it currently storing seventy-four-thousand petrabytes of unedited footage from “The Big Bang Theory” television show.

masterlist

This Only Looks Like Love - Warning: Smut, Alcohol Use, Drug Use, Violence, Mentions of Disordered Eating, Death.

Winnie James has just gotten her life back together. Well, professionally anyway. After a long year of watchful eyes monitoring her every move at Secret Talent Agency, she’s finally off probation–and promoted. But the promotion comes with a caveat; Winnie mustn’t mix business with pleasure with any of Secret Talent’s celebrity clientele, a tendency of hers that has caused major fallout in the past. But her first day as newly promoted Client Manager sounds off alarm bells as a very familiar–and very famous–face is introduced as her new client. Are Tom and Leslie lying in wait for Winnie to fail? Can Winnie resist the flirtatious ways of Harry Styles? Winnie can’t be sure, but one thing’s for certain: in a world that prides itself on manipulating perception nothing ever is as it looks.


ON HIATUS as of 2/9/17 - explanation here

  1.      Chapter 1 - Winnie knows what boys like
  2.      Chapter 2 - Winnie, meet starboy
  3.      Chapter 3 - Winnie doesn’t trust anyone
  4.      Chapter 4 - Winnie won’t say it
  5.      Chapter 5 - Winnie’s got Harry’s hands on her
  6.      Chapter 6 - Winnie is unravelling
  7.      Chapter 7 - Winnie likes the way Harry flicks his tongue 
  8.      Chapter 8 - Winnie isn’t the girl Harry takes home
  9.      Chapter 9 - Winnie was broken from the start

 Extras: Winsights (tidbits about Winnie)
             - Sweets


One Shots:

Let Me Be Your Good Night*
As One Direction’s vocal coach, you’ve gotten to know the boys quite well. Niall’s written a new song that’s driven purely by sex, and in your attempts to push the boys to new heights with their vocals, you may have pushed Harry too far.

Cheese and Whine*
All you want to do is settle in your favorite Greektown bar and watch the Lions annihilate their biggest rivals–the Green Bay Packers. But the cold weather delayed you, and by the time you arrive, the only seat left is up close and personal with a cheesehead. This is no ordinary cheesehead though, his name is Harry and he’s British and determined to tease you about your Lion Pride all night long. What starts as light ribbing turns into high stakes gambling, with one of you set to be rewarded in the bathroom.

Birthday Bows*^ and Valentine Woes*^
It’s Harry’s birthday and you’ve gotten him the perfect gift–you. All tied up with a pretty little bow around your neck, he can hardly contain himself.

Two weeks after Harry’s birthday, he’s back for Valentine’s. You’d be happy with just a cuddle, but he’s got more in mind. 

*indicates smut
^indicates bondage


Blurbs:

Love Bite
When Harry leaves, you like to mark him with reminders of your love.

Post-Workout Behavior*
We need to talk about something. And that something is the way Harry would behave when you get home from the gym. 

*indicates smut


Imagines:

Driving with Harry
Ever think about driving with Harry? Like sitting next to him in one of his expensive cars surrounded by buttery soft leather. And getting to watch all of the faces he pulls while concentrating on the road. And when you’re on a long, straight stretch that doesn’t require both hands on the wheel or he’s not fiddling with his bottom lip with that free hand, he’s reaching over to you, taking your hand from your lap so he can hold it.

Moving In Together
Ever think about what moving in with Harry would be like? He’d wake up on move in day all smiles, even though it’s still really early in the morning. His place is all packed up, save for the mattress he’s slept on and his phone and charger that are on the floor next to him. And when he see you’re calling, his smile grows even bigger as he answers with a “Today’s the day, button!” 

When Harry is your Valentine
Little things Harry would do to make Valentine’s day special.

Going to the Oscars with Harry
He’s so excited telling you that he’s been invited to the Oscars and that he wants you to come with him. But when you remind him that of course he’s invited, he’s nominated, he just laughs and shakes his head, mumbling, “Oh, right, forgot about tha’.”  

Snapchatting with Harry
At first he wouldn’t get the appeal and would refuse to download the app. So you improvise and Snap old photos of him, adding filters and stickers, and text them to him. 

When Harry Doesn’t Feel Well
Ever think about taking care of Harry when he’s feeling ill? Like, he’d come home from the studio early even though a song is thisclose to being finished because every note irritates his scratchy throat and the sound of the bass reverberating through his skull during playback matches the pulsing of his migraine. 


Reader Insert Mini Series

Firsts
A series of one shots and blurbs that explores first experiences in a relationship. 

Crush // Date // Time*

Rotation
Harry is your older brother’s best friend, but he has a hard time following the rules that come with that relationship.
Part 1: Another Man’s Treasure // Part 2: Mind on a Mission // Part 3: Take the Lead // Part 4: Worth the Pain

*indicates smut


Requests

Massage it all Away
You’ve been having a rough few weeks, and nothing Harry does makes it better. When you get a knot in your neck from sleeping funny, he’s got the perfect idea to help melt your stress away.

You love me, right?
You and Harry have to face a big incompatibility in your otherwise perfect relationship. Request from four word prompts

Requests are OPEN. I just ask for patience while I complete them.

‘River on the Rise’ by Debra Blake for Vegetarian Times, March 1988 (Part I)

Film Star River Phoenix says being a vegetarian is the most important role he’ll ever play. 

In Japan they adore him. The teenagers call out to him when he comes to promote one of his films: “Rio! Rio!” they chant. It is their nickname for him. They think he’s the next James Dean. And boy, does he have the looks for it. But smoldering looks and shirt-off-the-shoulder poses aren’t what River Phoenix is all about, and he gets a little embarrassed when he comes off that way. The 17-year-old’s dark clothes aren’t meant to impress. His canvas and rubber high-top boots are unexceptional. Still, it’s hard sometimes to resist just gazing at his blonde-streaked pretty head against the blue Florida sky, or wondering how he lucked into those dark eyebrows.

But he calls you back to what he’s saying, to his simple intensity. “Vegetarianism is a link to perfection and peace,” he’s saying now, and his voice is soft but strong, very sincere. “But it’s a small link. There are lots of other issues: apartheid , vivisection, political prisoners, the arms race. There’s so much going on in this world today, so much ignorance among people. That’s not to say I’m not standing amongst everybody. But the point is, what can we do now? That’s the thing about vegetarianism; it’s an individual’s decision and it’s something you have control over. How many things do we really have control over?”

River Phoenix is one of the lucky ones; he’s an actor making a successful go of it in a tough business. Years ago, he was one of the brothers in the television series Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. Later, he got his big break as a spunky but thoughtful kid in Stand by Me, and then as the elder son in The Mosquito Coast with Harrison Ford. He’s in demand now: Producers send him scripts, and this spring he’s scheduled to show up in three new movies: Jimmy Reardon, Little Nikita with Sidney poitier, and Running on Empty

River Phoenix. He’s a big name in Hollywood.

But the River sitting here on the lawn of his parents’ rented house in Florida is only as large as life. He’s not all seriousness and theory. His eyes are warm and welcoming; he laughs easily. Right away you know he’s a regular guy. Still, he’s eager to take advantage of what he calls the “rare opportunity” to discuss issues that really matter to him: veganism, health concerns most teens don’t even know exist, fulfillment in relationships with family and friends, world peace, and change in South Africa.

Do you put much faith into what a 17- year-old says or is he just trying on some ideals for size? In short order, you decide to trust him. He’s had a life unlike most people in the world - one of met challenges, enormous changes and great ideals-and that colors your reactions. He can keep you interested in what he’s saying longer than most people twice his age. So somehow you know he’s sincere. And you see that the “Rio! Rio!” business in Japan and the perfect eyebrows are small parts of a very large picture.


Most of what has been written about River Phoenix weaves his story into the story of his family. And try as you might to see him apart from them, you can’t entirely. They’re part of the big picture. His four younger siblings - one brother, Leaf, and three sisters, Rainbow, Liberty and Summer - also act; Summer and Leaf recently were cast in Russkies, and last summer Rainbow had a role in Maid to Order with fellow vegan Ally Sheedy. Their parents, Arlyn and John Phoenix, manage their kids’ careers, having decided years ago to forgo outside work and commit themselves to the family venture. The entire family is vegan, and they all come across as gentle and kind people who work together like clockwork. River’s history is the history of the Phoenixes, and he’s grateful for and satisfied by being a part of that.

Arlyn Phoenix is also grateful for the family, and she’s unflustered by their success. “You have to understand,” she says, sipping her sorghum-sweetened herbal tea, “that this didn’t just happen to us. We planned it.” Success is part of the Phoenix family mission. It’s why their name is Phoenix. They’re on the rise.

Arlyn and John chose the name phoenix together, years ago, and they nursed their five babies on the twin ideals of love and peace. The couple became vegetarian soon after they met in the ‘60s, but dropped it after moving to Venezuela with a born-again-style Christian group. Several years-and several babies-later, in 1978, they broke from the organization. On their way back to the United States they rekindled their commitment to vegetarianism, taking the cue from their children. 

 River was seven then. He remembers how it began. “On the boat we saw men fishing,” he said. “It was our [the kids’] first time seeing that. And it was the first time that I really saw that meat wasn’t just a hamburger or hot dog or some disguised food on your plate, that it was an animal, it was flesh. It seemed very barbaric and kind of cruel, and me and my brother and sister were all crying and were traumatized. The reality just hit us so hard. Our parents were very sensitive to our feelings. I mean, they were obviously immune to it themselves-meat eating is so much a part of society as a whole and how people eat-but they were very interested in our sensitivity to it, so they were open to us becoming vegetarian.”

Vegetarianism came easily to the Phoenix family. Within the year, with encouragement from Arlyn’s vegan sister, the family also stopped eating eggs and dairy products. “It was hard to give up dairy for a while for a lot of people in my family,” River remembers. “My mom and dad were so used to eating cheese, and it was so convenient. But I said, 'Hey, if we’re doing this thing, let’s go all the way with it.’ The other kids were into it, so my parents said, 'OK, let’s do it.’ And we did.”

It’s been 10 years since anyone in the Phoenix family has worn leather shoes, carried a leather handbag or brought honey into their home. They embrace every possible reason for veganism. They love animals and they believe dairyless eating is better for health. They believe the move away from a meat-centered culture will better support the world’s ecology. Above all, they see veganism as one of the early steps people can take to be conscious of their relationships in the world: relationships with animals, people, and the planet itself. To the Phoenix family, veganism is an essential ingredient of a loving and peaceful world-an extension of the values that motivated John and Arlyn when the two first met. 

MTR Fandom Showcase

“The Modern Four/The Futuristic Four” also known as “Meet the Incredibles Big Hero Bolt”. A sort of miniature fandom within the MTR fandom where four different characters from four different movies comes together in the same universe.

  • Wilbur Robinson from “Meet the Robinsons”
  • Violet Parr from “The Incredibles”
  • Hiro Hamada from “Big Hero 6″
  • Penny from “Bolt”
Imagine being partners with Sonny

Imagine being partners with Sonny

“Surprise!” Sonny cheered, from behind you before leaning over you and placing a cupcake smack in the middle of your desk.

You looked at the cupcake suspiciously, it was your favorite flavor from yours and Sonny’s favorite place. You narrowed your eyes at it before turning and looking up at Sonny with wide eyes and a confused expression.

“Sonny…What is this for?” You questioned, cautiously, purposely not touching it.

“It’s for our anniversary,” He said as if it obvious.

“No, did I forget again? I put a reminder on my phone.” You sighed disappointed, slumping in your chair, “I swore that our anniversary was in March.”

“No, not our dating anniversary.” He corrected chuckling.

“Then what?” You asked confused yet again.

Keep reading

A Man Of No Consequence, chapter 9

Sorry it took so long, my lovelies! Happy Saturday!

A Man Of No Consequence - Ardyn x fem Reader (NSFW)
COMPLETE. All chapters may contain spoilers!

CH 1: Into The Lion’s Mouth
CH 2: Famous Seafood
CH 3: The Covenant
CH 4: Blind Spot
CH 5: The Revelation
CH 6: In The Lap of The Gods
CH 7: Across the Seas
CH 8: In The Lap of The Gods, Revisited
CH 9: Callings
CH 10: Hand of a King, Heart of a King
CH 11: Into the Dark
CH 12: Breath Of The Glacian
CH 13: Redemption
CH 14: Cure for Insomnia
CH 15: A Gentleman’s Agreement

- - - - -

Chapter 9: Callings

Taking a sip of the freshly squeezed orange juice, you smile at the servant.

“It’s wonderful, thank you.”

“If there’s anything else you want, don’t hesitate to call, my lady,” the young man responds with a little bow. “The Chancellor has instructed to make sure you have everything you might need.”

“I’m quite happy with this,” you reply, taking a look at the breakfast spread the servant has brought in, big enough for four people. It has everything from pastries to porridge, from scrambled eggs to fruit salad. Over-compensating a little, are we Ardyn?

Keep reading

10 quotes from Warren Buffett’s letter to investors about the great Wall Street rip off

Warren Buffett just roasted Wall Street.

Warren Buffett just used more than 3,200 words to basically destroy Wall Street and one of its main sources of income — taking fees from the cash you invest with them.

If you’re not sure what‘s going on here, there’s a quick story you need to know about. In 2005, Buffett made a $500,000 bet. He essentially said an S&P 500 index fund would outperform any basket of hedge funds. The hedge funds might have the look or a ridiculously over the top name like Swift Eagle Crane Capital or Stat Sig Alpha Management, but still a basic low-fee S&P 500 index fund would outperform them over a long period.

Buffett won. And in his recent letter to investors he explains in detail what happened and what he thinks everyone can learn from his $500,000 wager. Here are 10 hand-picked quotes from his letter and at the bottom you can find a link to the entire letter.

1. Here’s Buffett explaining exactly what happened:

“I publicly offered to wager $500,000 that no investment pro could select a set of at least five hedge funds — wildly-popular and high-fee investing vehicles — that would over an extended period match the performance of an unmanaged S&P-500 index fund charging only token fees. I suggested a ten-year bet and named a low-cost Vanguard S&P fund as my contender. I then sat back and waited expectantly for a parade of fund managers — who could include their own fund as one of the five — to come forth and defend their occupation. After all, these managers urged others to bet billions on their abilities.”

2. Here’s Buffett explaining how he straight up eviscerated hedge funds with his simple bet. Mic dropped. Game over:

“In it, the five funds-of-funds delivered, through 2016, an average of only 2.2%, compounded annually. That means $1 million invested in those funds would have gained $220,000. The index fund would meanwhile have gained $854,000.”

3. In which Buffett drops an amazing parody based on a classic Wall Street movie:

“I’m certain that in almost all cases the managers at both levels were honest and intelligent people. But the results for their investors were dismal — really dismal. And, alas, the huge fixed fees charged by all of the funds and funds-of-funds involved — fees that were totally unwarranted by performance — were such that their managers were showered with compensation over the nine years that have passed. As Gordon Gekko might have put it: “Fees never sleep.”

4. You might have a Vanguard fund. Do you know who the founder of Vanguard is? Buffett says he’s one of the most underrated men in all of finance:

“If a statue is ever erected to honor the person who has done the most for American investors, the handsdown choice should be Jack Bogle. For decades, Jack has urged investors to invest in ultra-low-cost index funds. In his crusade, he amassed only a tiny percentage of the wealth that has typically flowed to managers who have promised their investors large rewards while delivering them nothing — or, as in our bet, less than nothing — of added value.”

5. Buffett explains how Bogle fought against countless enemies, critiques, and haters. A lesson even for anyone trying to start their own firm or business today:

“In his early years, Jack was frequently mocked by the investment-management industry. Today, however, he has the satisfaction of knowing that he helped millions of investors realize far better returns on their savings than they otherwise would have earned. He is a hero to them and to me.”

6. Plot twist. You ready? Buffett thinks no other class has been scammed by Wall Street harder than the elite. And not because of their incompetence, but because of their desire to feel elite:

“In many aspects of life, indeed, wealth does command top-grade products or services. For that reason, the financial “elites” — wealthy individuals, pension funds, college endowments and the like — have great trouble meekly signing up for a financial product or service that is available as well to people investing only a few thousand dollars. This reluctance of the rich normally prevails even though the product at issue is — on an expectancy basis — clearly the best choice.

7. How much money have hedge funds earned in fees regardless of performance? Here’s Buffett’s calculation:

“My calculation, admittedly very rough, is that the search by the elite for superior investment advice has caused it, in aggregate, to waste more than $100 billion over the past decade.”

8. One of Buffett’s greatest skills is his ability to observe human behavior and watch it repeat over time — in panics and in booms. He writes:

“Human behavior won’t change. Wealthy individuals, pension funds, endowments and the like will continue to feel they deserve something “extra” in investment advice. Those advisors who cleverly play to this expectation will get very rich. This year the magic potion may be hedge funds, next year something else.”

9. When Buffett drops an adage, you have to pay attention:

“The likely result from this parade of promises is predicted in an adage: “When a person with money meets a person with experience, the one with experience ends up with the money and the one with money leaves with experience.””

10. Yes, Buffett has a brother-in-law named Homer. And of course Homer has a great little lesson for everyone:

“Long ago, a brother-in-law of mine, Homer Rogers, was a commission agent working in the Omaha stockyards. I asked him how he induced a farmer or rancher to hire him to handle the sale of their hogs or cattle to the buyers from the big four packers (Swift, Cudahy, Wilson and Armour). After all, hogs were hogs and the buyers were experts who knew to the penny how much any animal was worth. How then, I asked Homer, could any sales agent get a better result than any other? Homer gave me a pitying look and said: “Warren, it’s not how you sell ’em, it’s how you tell ‘em.” What worked in the stockyards continues to work in Wall Street.”

Now if you want to read Buffett’s entire letter to investors, and even see his annual report for 2016, go to this PDF right here. If you enjoyed this compilation of Buffett quotes, or learned something new about fees on Wall Street, please like or share this post!

Don’t Mess with Jim Bob

By mrs momona © 2017

Jim Bob Cleaver stood before the Judge, blond head bowed, looking at the floor, hoping that he was acting humble enough. His lawyer had told him not to smirk or even smile during his trial for receiving stolen goods, and to try to look and act like the fair-haired football hero that he had been when he was the big man on campus at the local high school. None of it had worked, not even the expensive new “preppy” clothes which his girlfriend had bought for him to wear to the trial. The jury had found him guilty, the judge had revoked his bail, and here he was, squeezed into a bright orange jumpsuit, hands cuffed together in front of him.

Jim Bob’s bright blue eyes remained staring at the floor as the Judge started speaking. “Jim Bob, our whole town has known you all your life. You were the high school football quarterback, homecoming king, and senior class president. You were truly destined for big things when you graduated from high school four years ago. You had the whole world in front of you. Instead of making something for yourself, you chose to drop out of college. Instead of working and supporting yourself, you chose to sponge off your girlfriend…”  Jim Bob struggled really hard to avoid smirking at this point. He thought to himself that the Judge might call it sponging, but he would just call it payment for services rendered. In return for keeping his girlfriend happy in bed, she supported him, and actually gave him everything he wanted—new car, fancy clothes, all the pot and beer and good food he wanted, all of it.

The Judge continued, “…you chose to sponge off your girlfriend, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more, and formed a criminal ring to earn more money for yourself. Even though you didn’t steal any cars yourself, you hired others to do the dirty work while you took a cut off the top of the selling price of every stolen car which was resold. Because this is your first offense…”

Look serious, look serious, Jim Bob told himself. This is it. He stared at the floor and tried to focus on his bright orange jumpsuit as a way of avoiding showing any hint of the cockiness that had always been the main feature of his personality. Actually, Jim Bob’s view downwards was blocked by the round orange-clad bulge of his big fat belly and the two smaller round bulges in the tightly stretched orange cotton cloth which marked his fat bulging man boobs.

“…I hereby sentence you to one year in the State Prison, followed by five years probation.” The Judge stopped speaking. Jim Bob looked up at him, and said in a voice which he hoped sounded sincere, “Thank you, Your Honor.”

As Jim Bob was led out of the courtroom, he turned and glanced at three people sitting right behind the defense area. His girlfriend Polly was crying, tears running down the cheeks of her flawlessly made up face, auburn hair glistening in the bright courtroom lights. Her expensive silk dress showed off her 44-22-40 figure. She still looked like the high school cheerleader and only child of the wealthiest man in town she had been when she and Jim Bob become an item their sophomore year in high school.

Next to Polly sat Chester, Jim Bob’s first cousin.  Tears streamed down Chester’s round cheeks. He and Jim Bob were the same age, had been raised together, and thought of themselves as brothers. Although he now had the build of an offensive guard-gone-to-fat, he had been the receiver on the same football team Jim Bob had quarterbacked. Next to Chester sat Brittany, Chester’s girl friend since high school.

Polly mouthed to Jim Bob “I love you” as the guards led him into the back room.

No one else from Jim Bob’s family was there. He was an only child, and his father, one of the local preachers, and his mother had both passed away from lung cancer within two years after Jim Bob’s graduation from high school—they had always been heavy smokers.

In the Guard Room behind the courtroom, the guard motioned to Jim Bob to take a seat.  Jim Bob eased himself down. The orange jumpsuit was so tight that Jim Bob had to sit carefully for fear that a seam would fail. Wouldn’t do for the big shot of the local high school to suffer the embarrassment of bursting out of his clothes, even if it was only a jail uniform.

At that point, another guard came in, carrying a large McDonald’s bag. Jim Bob recognized Billy Jones, one of his high school football team mates who had been a tackle. They had been known each other in high school but hadn’t moved in the same crowd. After high school, Billy had gone into law enforcement and now he was proudly encased in a snug guard’s uniform. Their paths had parted aside from the “wassup’s” they exchanged when they ran into each other around town.

“Hey, man”, said Billy, “thought I’d bring you some lunch. You’ve got a long trip ahead of you this afternoon, big guy.”  He patted Jim Bob’s bulging belly as he said this. Like most of their classmates, he couldn’t get over how much Jim Bob had let himself go in the four years since high school graduation. “Thanks, dude,” replied Jim Bob, “breakfast at the jail this morning wasn’t much.” He opened the bag and took out the three double quarter pounders with cheese, supersize fries, 20 piece nuggets, 3 fried apple pies, and large strawberry shake.

“This may be your last good meal for a while, man”, said Billy .” I hear that at State Prison, all the inmates are on tight rations.” He couldn’t help but stare at Jim Bob as he said this. He thought to himself how Jim Bob had changed since their football days when at 5’9”, 160, he was one of the best quarterbacks in the state. Usually a polite guy, Billy was kind of surprised at himself when he heard himself asking Jim Bob, “say man, not to be nosy, but how much weight are you carrying now?”

Jim Bob laughed and drawled, “No problem, dude. When I was arrested , they weighed me in at 292. Think I must have dropped a few on that jail food since then, though.”

Billy thought to himself, 292! No wonder the other guards were talking about how they were having a hard time finding a jumpsuit to fit Jim Bob. Jim Bob’s big round belly and big bulging man boobs, his thick love handles,  his enormous protruding round butt, and his thick thighs stretched the thin cloth of the jumpsuit in all directions.

“Wow, friend. You really have picked up some pounds since football.” Billy thought this was a good topic for conversation to distract Jim Bob from his prison sentence. Jim Bob scarfed down his lunch as they waited for the van to take Jim Bob to prison. Jim Bob replied to his old teammate, talking while eagerly chewing mouthfuls of food.

“Well Billy, I guess I’m a sure enough fat boy now”, Jim Bob drawled, “…you know how it goes. After football was finished the weekend beer and pot parties started to put some pounds on me. At first, I thought Polly would mind it when I began to put on a pot belly and my ass started chubbing up, but dude, it’s like the fatter I get the more she likes it. Billy,  I mean, she LOVES it.”

The two 22-year-olds exchanged knowing glances, Jim Bob thinking back to how hot Polly was as she worshipped his expanding body, and Billy just thinking of how hot Polly always had been.

Jim Bob continued, “As far as Polly is concerned, dude, all I have to do is lounge around all day eating and relaxing while her daddy’s money just rolls in. So, I’ve been livin’ high on the hog! I just need to make sure ‘Little Mr. Jim Bob’ here is ready for action whenever she wants it.” He laughed as he reached beneath the watermelon sized bulge of his fat belly and grabbed his crotch for emphasis.

“Hey man, there’s nothing bad about getting fat. Most of the guys on our team have really porked up since we stopped playing football. I must have put on a good 50 lbs myself ever since I passed the physical to become a guard and could relax a little. And looks like your cousin Chester has been doing some good eating, too.” Billy laughed and patted his own belly.

Jim Bob drawled, “Yeah, ol’ Chester’s put on about a hundred or so. He tells me his girlfriend always bugs him about his weight, but dude, you should see him shovel the food in when he comes over for dinner. He’s a big ol` heifer. The only time he stops eating is when there’s no food left.”

By this time, Jim Bob had finished the McDonald’s lunch and wiped his greasy hands on the bag. “I really appreciate this, Billy,” said Jim Bob, and for once he actually was sincere. “Well, for old times’ sake, dude”, said Billy, who was never not sincere, “just want you to know that whatever happens, we’re still friends.” When Jim Bob heard this, he felt a little guilty for all the times he thought Billy was a hopeless square, certainly not one of the super cool in-group in their high school class.

The van soon arrived and with some effort Jim Bob hoisted his tightly-encased bulk into the back. He was on his way to prison for a year.

Jim Bob handled prison OK. Always a smooth talker and a manipulator, Jim Bob also knew when to take a low profile and keep his mouth shut. The big shock was his first day, at the orientation for new inmates. He was issued his prison uniform, this time a bright red jumpsuit worn over a white T-shirt. When he went to put it on, he found that the legs and rear end were very tight. He could only pull the front zipper up to a couple of inches below his deep bellybutton. The mass of his fat round belly and the wide roll of flab around his waist blocked any effort to hoist the zipper up higher.  When he said to the trustee inmate who distributed the uniforms that he needed a bigger size, the inmate laughed and told him not to worry, it would fit “soon enough”.

He next was taken to the infirmary, where another trustee weighed and measured him and the other new inmates while they waited for the doctor to check them out.  5’9” Jim Bob was weighed in at 290 lbs. “Boy, you’re a big one!” exclaimed the trustee, a large black dude named Rasheed who looked like nobody gave him any back talk. “But that fat’s gonna disappear soon.”

Jim Bob was curious. “Why?”

Jim Bob’s question was answered by the doctor, a grim-faced elderly man who was standing in the doorway. “You prisoners are not sent here to get fat, or in your case, fatter, on taxpayer’s money. All our prisoners are on strict portion control. 2050 calories a day, just what is needed to keep a sedentary young man healthy.  No seconds ever. It’s a matter of economics. If we let all you prisoners eat whatever you wanted, we’d have to cook three times what we do now, and we’d end up with a lot of fat boys like you, young man. And don’t even think of buying snacks. Those privileges are strictly limited.”

At that point, another inmate went into the physician’s examining room, the door closed, and Rasheed started to talk again. “Yeah, friend, even if you have the money to spend on snacks, they charge $5 for a Hershey bar at the prison store. So, that tight uniform you have on now will be loose on you mighty soon. You won’t believe it, but when I came here five years ago, I weighed 380. Now look at me…I’m lucky if I’m 235. Now, friend, do me a favor and walk over to that table and chair so I can take your blood pressure.”

Jim Bob did as he was asked and Rasheed followed him.  Jim Bob noticed Rasheed checking him out with a look of amazement on his face. Rasheed then said to Jim Bob,  “Man, you are REALLY fat. You got the biggest ass I’ve ever seen—on a white boy, that is.” Jim Bob smiled, grabbed a thick roll of his soft bulging love handle, and turned on the charm. “Yeah, brother, it’s all due to my girlfriend. She likes me big and fat.”   Rasheed was nostalgic as he said,”Yeah, man, that’s how my lady was   too.” He then added, “Well, when you get out of here, there’s gonna be a lot less of you for her to love.”

Everything turned out to be as the doctor and Rasheed had told Jim Bob. Because of prison overcrowding, meal times were brief. The food was well prepared but there wasn’t much of it—just enough for one serving per inmate—never any seconds.  Because of the large number of inmates, chances for a prison job were almost zero. There was a weight room, but inmates had to take their turn—an hour a week max for each inmate. Jim Bob was in a low security area with other non-violent short-timers like himself. All the inmates there kept out of trouble so they could go home as quickly as possible. White, black, latino and Asian, in this part of the prison, they all had only one thought—getting released on schedule. Jim Bob turned on his charm and worked at getting along with everyone and minding his own business. So, Jim Bob spent most of his time watching TV, thinking of Polly, and waiting for visiting day every Sunday..

At first, Polly came every Sunday. She cried, but not enough to mess her makeup. She filled Jim Bob in on the news.  She was so lonely without having Jim Bob and “Little Mr. Jim Bob” around. She missed feeling Jim Bob’s weight on  her while he pumped her. By the way, Brittany, Chester’s girlfriend, had dumped him and moved to Biloxi. Polly felt sorry for Chester, he was devastated. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. If Polly hadn’t been so hot and so rich,  Jim Bob would have gotten bored with her chatter years ago.

Jim Bob noticed over the next few weeks that Polly talked more about Chester. She felt so sorry for Chester since he had been dumped, and a nice guy like him too. At the same time, Jim Bob noticed the look of disappointment on Polly’s face as she noticed how he was losing weight. Rasheed, the big trustee who had talked with Jim Bob that first day, was right. After a month, Jim Bob had lost 20 lbs. on the jail rations and was steadily dropping weight.

It was about this time that Chester began to come to visit Jim Bob with Polly.  Only one visitor at a time was allowed, so Polly ended her conversation with Jim Bob early. She left the room and Chester came in. Jim Bob noticed right away that Chester was getting fatter. When Jim Bob said he was sorry to hear that Brittany had dumped him, Chester replied, “That bitch? I’m glad she’s gone. I got me a much better situation now.” He then stopped abruptly and changed the subject to talk sports, leaving Jim Bob with a vague feeling of uneasiness.

The next weekend, only Chester came to visit. As Jim Bob watched Chester walk into the room, he noticed that Chester seemed to have gotten even bigger and flabbier during the previous week. His tight white polo shirt had ridden up on his blubbery belly, revealing a three-inch-wide loaf of soft pink new belly fat ballooning over his pants as Chester walked forward toward Jim Bob, a big  smile on his face.

“Where’s Polly?” asked Jim Bob.

“Oh”, said Chester, “it’s her  time of the month.  She started to get cramps real bad when we were eating breakfast this morning. She said to tell you she’ll come by real soon.”
                                                                                     
Eating breakfast this morning? Chester getting fatter? Jim Bob felt a wave of suspicion and anger as he abruptly asked, “Chester, are you fucking Polly?’

Chester turned white, and his jowls and chubby cheeks started to quiver. “Ah…ah…ah…, come on, Jim Bob. We’ve been like brothers ever since we were born. Would I do that to you?” Jim Bob’s anger was intense but still not quite strong enough to cause him to lose control. Anyway, he was separated from Chester by a Plexiglas partition. Jim Bob forced himself to stay calm by repeating to himself, “Don’t do anything to screw up your release date.” Soon, the visit with Chester was over

The next week, Jim Bob received a letter from Polly. She was sorry, but having him away was harder than she thought. Her needs were too great for an absentee boyfriend who wouldn’t be released for ten more months. Sorry, Jim Bob.

Another letter arrived for Jim Bob about a month later. Billy, his high school teammate who was now the jail guard back in his hometown, wrote out of the blue, saying that he and the guys on their old team felt bad for Jim Bob and the way he was being treated by Polly and Chester.  Chester had moved in with Polly and was parading around town bragging about what a good life he had now. The letter closed with “Just want you to know, Jim Bob,   that you have some friends back here in your home town and we look forward to getting together with you when you’re released.” That letter made Jim Bob feel a little better, but not much.

For the next ten months, Jim Bob was a model prisoner.  His only thought was to get out of prison on his release date and to head home. After getting the letter from Polly, Jim Bob moped around and lost his appetite. He went to meals because he had to but ate only enough to keep himself going until his release. He just didn’t have his old taste for food any longer.

The old pre-prison Jim Bob had grown to love food, the great feeling being nice and full gave him, and the big round belly and ballooning fat ass which were the result of all the excess calories. The new Jim Bob couldn’t care less. The results soon showed. Jim Bob steadily continued to lose weight. By the time Jim Bob was released, his jumpsuit had grown baggy on him.

Jim Bob’s release date arrived. He stopped by the infirmary for his release physical. He was measured at 5’9”, 170 lbs. Rasheed congratulated him on his release and added, “friend, I still remember how ya were that huge ass white boy who waddled in here a year ago. See, didn’t I tell ya that ya were going to drop some pounds here? Now you look like most of the other white boys around here—no butt at all on ya.”

Rasheed and Jim Bob both laughed, but then Jim Bob turned grim. “Say, man, you’d lose your appetite too if you found out your lady had dumped you and was screwing around with the guy who had been closer than a brother to you!”

Rasheed replied, “Shit, man, now THAT is disrespect!  But, man, get on with your life. The bitch ain’t worth nothin’ now. Find someone else. Don’t ya go getting caught at anything again and have to come back here. Good luck, man.” Jim Bob really was sincere when he shook Rashid’s hand and wished him good luck too. For sure I’m never gonna come back here, Jim Bob thought. As for finding someone else, he’d have to take things as they came along.

Jim Bob stayed with Billy the jail guard and his family for a week until he was able to get a furnished room in the home of an elderly widow lady. Jim Bob got a job at the local Burger King and after a month was appointed night manager. He made an effort to avoid going anywhere that he might run into Polly or his cousin Chester. The pain was still too great, and besides, he didn’t have the money to go to those fancy places now anyway.

A week later on a sunny Saturday afternoon, Jim Bob was with Billy, some of the other members of the old football team, and their families at a picnic at the local lake. The day was filled with fishing, swimming, touch football, card playing, talking, and eating—a most enjoyable country Saturday afternoon.

Jim Bob and Billy were talking when Billy suddenly stopped and pointed over to the parking lot. “Well, lookee who’s here.” Jim Bob recognized Polly’s Mecedes SUV and he grew quiet, his eyes narrowing. Polly stepped out of the driver’s seat, and after a few minutes, a large figure emerged from the passenger side. The man had his back turned to Jim Bob, but then as he turned and noticed  Jim Bob, he started to approach Jim Bob and Billy.  It was Chester, bare-chested and wearing only a huge pair of shorts, ready for a cooling dip in the lake.

Polly stood next to the SUV as Chester slowly waddled forward. Each massive thigh rubbing past the other caused Chester’s enormous hanging belly and sagging, basketball-size man boobs to shift and sway from side to side. While Billy and Jim Bob stared at this spectacle, Billy said softly, “Jim Bob, that’s one thing I didn’t tell you when you were at prison. From the day Chester moved in with Polly, he started piling on the pounds. I heard he has to weigh himself at the Feed and Grain Store now.”

Chester finally reached Jim Bob and Billy, and held out his hand, a broad smile dimpling his round face. “Jim Bob, it’s good to see ya. I jes` wanna let ya know that I hope we can be like brothers again. Let’s put everything in the past, man.”

Jim Bob ignored Chester’s outstretched hand, and Chester barely finished talking before Jim Bob, eyes narrowed into slits in his anger, bowed his head and suddenly rushed forward, punching at Chester, trying to knock him off his feet. 465 lb Chester didn’t move. Jim Bob’s 170 lb body didn’t even make him take a step backwards when Jim Bob slammed into him. Billy was able to pull Jim Bob away before his flailing fists caused any damage to Chester’s fat-padded body.

Chester backed up a few feet and flexed his fat-sheathed biceps, sending ripples on his huge drooping man boobs and the rest of the flab which draped his torso. “Look, small stuff,  I gave ya a chance. Don’t challenge me until ya put some meat on that sorry skinny body of yours and we can go at it man to man. That ain’t gonna happen, though, is it, little cousin? Looks the the big deal former fat boy has turned into a twink!.” At this, he turned his back on Jim Bob and Billy and started to waddle back to Polly, still standing by the SUV. His wide sagging ass wobbled and jiggled in the huge pair of shorts which covered Chester’s wide hips and bulky hindquarters. .By the time he reached the SUV, Polly had entered the driver’s side. Jim Bob glared in anger, Billy still holding him back, as Chester maneuvered himself into the passenger’s side. The SUV seemed to sink about a foot and settled under the impact of Chester’s bulk.

“You’ll get yours, Chester, I promise, you’ll get yours.” Billy was surprised at the depth of the anger in Jim Bob’s voice. “Nobody disrespects me like that and gets away with it.”

“C’mon now, buddy”, said Billy at this point. “Remember you’re on probation and one arrest will send you back to prison.”

Jim Bob suddenly put on his charming smile, the smile which had gotten him so many things all his life, and said to Billy, “yeah, you’re right. That fat shit ain’t worth it.” That’s what he said, while in his mind he began to think of a way to get his revenge.

Over the next eighteen months, Jim Bob kept up his new life. The townspeople were pleased to see how he changed after his stay in prison. He seemed more humble, somehow, and definitely harder working. He frequently worked overtime at Burger King and joined the local gym. He didn’t find any special lady in his life, but like many single guys his age, he had no problems picking up someone at a club or a beer joint on the weekends, so “Little Mr. Jim Bob” was reasonably happy. He avoided Polly and Chester at all costs. One sight of Polly’s Mercedes SUV, the only one in town, and Jim Bob headed the other way.

When not working at the Burger King, Jim Bob took his meals at any of the cafes and small restaurants in town which served good “down home style” southern cooking. The waitresses who served Jim Bob soon began to give him bigger portions as he turned on the charm, smiled his perfect smile, and left bigger tips, too, Managing a Burger King meant lots of free food and people began to notice that Jim Bob was rapidly putting on weight again. Only natural, too…it was expected that 24 year old guys like Jim Bob would be putting on some pounds. It was the way things were for all country boys, not just the ex-football jocks. The more the waitresses noticed the roll developing around Jim Bob’s middle and the way the rest of his handsome body was quickly porking up, the bigger his portions became.

Jim Bob’s landlady did her share to aid Jim Bob’s growth. He was so nice to her (he really was, this was the truly sincere side of Jim Bob that showed itself on occasion), doing yard work and  fixing things around the rooming house, always stopping to chat and pass the time of day when he saw her sitting by herself.  His landlady began to prepare special treats for her handsome young tenant. Jim Bob, on returning from the late shift at Burger King, would see a note on the door of his room in his landlady’s handwriting telling him to check the ice box for a special treat she had made for him. It became a nightly ritual—pans of rich corn pone, mixing bowls full of banana pudding, pecan pies—Jim Bob would take a glass of cold milk or sweet tea, and enjoy his treat even though he had just come from closing the Burger King where he had finished off all the leftovers.

Jim Bob’s lifting at the gym meant that a lot of his new weight was solid muscle, but Jim Bob was also proud when he noticed how his fat pot belly and big fat jutting butt were redeveloping., not to mention how thick his quads, glutes, hips, chest, arms and shoulders were getting.

As Jim Bob rapidly grew bigger, some of his lifting buddies at the gym started kidding him about the “fat-over-muscle look” or “big bellied power lifter look” he was getting, and some of the customers at his Burger King took to joking with Jim Bob about how he was becoming a “walking advertisement” for that great Burger King food.

Jim Bob always laughed, and hoped he sounded sincere when he always drawled in reply, “yep, just enjoyin’ the ‘good life’, I guess” while he patted his fat round belly. The waitresses who looked forward to his good-natured kidding with them when he came in for his meals, and his landlady who now was kept busy letting out his clothes and repairing split seams and popped buttons so that Jim Bob could delay spending money on bigger sizes for a little while, all were happy to see him seeming to enjoy life and eat well. After all, he had paid his debt to society, right?

Inside, though, Jim Bob was still  seething with anger at Chester. But, Jim Bob never let his inner feelings show and turned on the charm whenever and to whomever he needed to.

Jim Bob had the charm turned on full blast the day he showed up at the office of a diet doctor in Nashville. It had been a  long drive from his home town. Jim Bob gave the receptionist all the information needed from new patients. He told her he was going to have to pay cash—didn’t have any medical insurance—and signed in as “John Smith”. In a few minutes, he was shown into the doctor’s office. The doctor checked him out—pulse and blood pressure normal—and than asked him to strip down to his boxer shorts and got him on the scale. It read 325 lbs. The doctor took note of the bright red stretchmarks which covered his new patient’s wide love handles, fat belly, and big round man boobs, how “John Smith”’s pot belly  and love handles erupted over the top of his boxers, and how the thin white cloth of the boxers was pulled skin tight across his wide hips and enormous round fat butt cheeks, making the fly gap wide open so “Little Mr. Jim Bob” was visible, nestled in curly blond pubic hair.

“John Smith” went back to the seat next to the doctor’s desk, his flab jiggling and quivering as he walked, and started talking. “You see, doctor, I’ve got to do something about my weight. I’ve put on over a hundred  twenty-five pounds in the past year and a half and it seems like I just can’t stop eating. My boss has told me that if I don’t start to lose some weight, I’m going to be fired from my job.” “John Smith” just oozed that old Jim Bob sincerity.

The doctor replied, “Well, Mr. Smith, I see what you mean.  We have a lot of young male patients who started out in good shape, like you, and just have ballooned up.  I can see you have a lot of muscle, but your stretchmarks indicate how much fat you’ve put on recently.”

“John Smith” replied, “Yeah, doctor, I’m hungry all the time. I just can’t stick to a diet. I’m desperate, doctor!.” His voice had just the right note of pleading in it.

“Mr. Smith, let’s try some appetite suppressants for now. I’ll give you a prescription for the newest drug on the market. I’ll call in a prescription for a month’s supply to the pharmacy right downstairs.  You should notice a decrease in your appetite right away which should make it easier for you to stick to the diet my receptionist will give you on your way out. Just be careful—these pills are very powerful  stimulants. If you notice any signs of your heart racing, or if you feel faint, call me immediately. But, even though you are much too fat for a young man your age and height, you are basically in great shape and should tolerate the medication well.”

As Jim Bob left, he picked up the diet sheet  scheduled an appointment for a month away, paid his bill in cash, went downstairs to the pharmacy and paid cash for “John Smith”’s  prescription.

Jim Bob had a shit-kickin’ grin on his face as he headed out onto the interstate for the long drive back home from Nashville. He made a stop at a McDonald’s for a nice big lunch, tossing the diet sheet and next-appointment card the diet doctor in Nashville had given him into the trash as he left McDonald’s. On the drive back, he ate the fries and finished off the box of chicken nuggets and half a dozen fried apple pies he had bought as a snack. Still feeling a little hungry, he made a stop at a Stuckey’s and bought a pecan log. Back in his car, he tore into the sweet treat,  rubbed his big belly, savored the taste of the pecan log, and smiled as he thought how well the day had gone.

What luck that the diet doctor had actually prescribed for Jim Bob the very medication he had learned about on the internet. Boy, Jim Bob, reflected, the old “Jim Bob charm” is still there! To think that the doctor would actually fall for that crap and think that Jim Bob would ever want to be a skinny twink! What a jerk the doctor was! Didn’t he realize that there were plenty of good ol’ country boys like Jim Bob who took pride in their big appetites and  the weight which padded their frames with every extra calorie?

When Jim Bob got home, the prescription bottle with the thirty capsules went into the bottom bureau drawer, under some socks, waiting for Jim Bob to need them.

Two more months went by and Jim Bob continued his daily routine—working, lifting, socializing with his buddies and acquaintances around town, and eating big. He put on another twelve   pounds, more fat than muscle, but Jim Bob was pleased.

He was real happy the day his landlady gave him back the latest pair of pants he had asked her to let out for him. Giving him the pants, she drawled, “Land sakes, Jim Bob, I swear you’re fallin’ away to a ton! You’re gonna havta buy size 52 pants in a little while—I can’t let these out any further. But ya carry the weight well, son! And I must say it does my heart good to see the way ya enjoy your food.!” Much to her surprise and pleasure, Jim Bob, that shit-kickin’ grin on his face, gave her a peck on the cheek. Jim Bob grinned because he had come to truly care about the kind old lady, and he also knew that he was at last ready to deal with Chester.

Jim Bob kept his ears open around town when he stopped to talk with any of his old friends. While in the past he automatically tuned out whenever Chester’s name came up, now he discretely listened carefully to what was being said about his cousin and now mortal enemy.

Billy the jail guard and Jim Bob’s other buddies did talk about Chester a lot. They couldn’t help but talk about their classmate who was now living a life of ease, supported by Polly’s money. There was speculation about what it was Polly saw in Chester, especially now that he was so enormously fat. One of the guys who worked at the Feed and Grain Store reported that Chester had last weighed in at 587 lbs, quite a change from the 5’10”, 165 lb wide receiver he had been in high school. Jim Bob’s buddies all had put on some weight  themselves—shit, it was normal, wasn’t it?—but ol’ Chester had really taken it to an extreme. Stories spread around town about the stupendous appetite Chester had developed, and it seemed like every week there was a new story about how much  Chester had eaten—three dozen biscuits with gravy, a dozen helpings of cheese grits. One glance at Chester as he waddled breathlessly from the SUV to whatever food place Polly had driven them to confirmed the stories.

One day, Jim Bob heard that Chester and Polly would often go on a Saturday night to a road house over in the next county where there was good country music and great food. Some Saturdays Chester would go alone if Polly had taken a quick trip to Atlanta or New Orleans for a weekend of shopping. Jim Bob quietly arranged his schedule at work so he always had Saturday nights off.

A month later, on a dark, moonless Saturday evening, Jim Bob was sitting in his car in the road house parking lot, close to where the familiar Mercedes SUV was parked. He was wearing dark clothes. The door to the road house opened and a large shadow emerged and started moving slowly toward the parking lot. This had to be Chester, thought Jim Bob, as he quietly got out of his car and slipped behind the SUV.

As Chester stood next to the driver’s side door, panting from the exertion of waddling out to the SUV, fumbling to reach into the pocket of his skin tight pants for the car keys, he was thinking of the great meal he had just devoured—three double orders of fettuccine Alfredo, a loaf of butter-soaked garlic bread, and five desserts, washed down with an entire bottle of red wine.

He was feeling some discomfort in his chest. Maybe this was what they call heartburn? Too bad the cashier at the restaurant didn’t have any antacids or anything when he paid his bill. Maybe he shouldn’t have had that last piece of apple pie topped with cheddar cheese and a double scoop of ice cream—but it looked so-o-o good! He thought how proud and happy Polly would have been to see how much he was able to eat tonight. She just loved it when Chester pushed himself to eat huge, and she always showed her love in the bedroom as soon as they got home.

Still thinking of Polly, Chester was massaging his immense sagging belly and trying to force a belch when a shape rushed at him from out of the darkness and hit him like a ton of bricks. 337 lb Jim Bob hit Chester low, knocking him off balance. The next thing Chester knew, he was flat on his back with a hand clamped tightly over his mouth, feeling a heavy weight sitting on his massive stomach. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he recognized that the weight was Jim Bob.

Chester was gasping for breath and motioned that he wanted to speak. Jim Bob took his hand off Chester’s mouth, but at the same time reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun which he held to Chester’s temple. It was too dark for Chester to realize the gun was only a toy.  Chester managed to gasp, “Jim Bob, cousin, what are ya doin’? Remember, we’ve always been closer than brothers.”

Jim Bob replied quietly, “With a brother like you, I don’t need any enemies. Now you’re going to get what you deserve for disrespecting me.”

Still holding the toy gun to Chester’s head, Jim Bob reached into his jacket pocket and took out a plastic bottle of Coca Cola and the pill bottle.  Deftly uncapping the cola bottle, Jim Bob opened the pill bottle, poured the capsules into his hand, and put them up to Chester’s mouth. “Okay, ‘brother’, open wide and swallow”. Chester, still breathing heavily and actually gasping for breath—the most exercise he had gotten during the past three years was lifting his food-laden fork to his mouth as often as possible and then lying on his back in bed every night while Polly rode him—swallowed the capsules and then took a gulp of the cola from the bottle Jim Bob shoved up against his fat lips.

Jim Bob’s final words to Chester were, “Now, Chester, into the car and relax. Just sit there for a few minutes and everything will be just fine.” Jim Bob hoped his mock sincerity was believable to the huge man struggling to his feet next to him, still gasping heavily from the combined effects of his heavy meal, the bottle of wine, and the shock at what had just happened.

Chester managed to open the car door and back his bulk into the driver’s seat of the SUV, making the vehicle settle under his tonnage.  He sat there, still trying to catch his breath and grasp what had just take place. Was it a dream or what? If only Polly was there! She’d take him to get something to eat and everything would be jes’ fine again! Chester felt his heart racing as he grew drowsy. That was it! Maybe he jes’ needed a little nap! That would make things better! He closed his eyes….

Jim Bob waited a few minutes, checked around the SUV to make sure he hadn’t left anything behind, went back to his car, got inside, and sat there quietly for about ten minutes more. He was happy that his luck was holding. No one had left the road house during the time he had confronted Chester.

Five minutes more passed and Jim Bob started his car and drove out of the parking lot. Not a sound came from the huge man sitting in the SUV.

On his way home, Jim Bob stopped at a Denny’s and ordered a complete fried chicken  meal, with a side of a 6-egg ham omelet, a double order of hotcakes, and a double order of cheese grits.  After he finished eating, he went to the men’s room and noted with pleasure how the bulk of his big belly, huge round buttocks,  and wide meaty hips practically filled the stall. After relieving himself, he took the empty pill bottle from his jacket pocket, and peeled off the label, which got flushed down the toilet. The now-unlabeled pill bottle went into the trash. Jim Bob belched contentedly as he got into his car and headed home. The toy gun soon went back into the toy chest of his landlady’s young great-grandson..

Two days later, Jim Bob scanned the local newspaper and noticed a story at the bottom of page one. “Local Football Hero Found Dead”. He read further, “Chester Cleaver, 26, was found dead early yesterday morning in his SUV parked at the parking lot of a well-known roadhouse on Route 28. Cause of death is suspected to be a massive heart attack.  According to waitresses at the roadhouse, Mr. Cleaver had eaten a huge meal there, as was his habit. He seemed in good spirits as he left the establishment about 10 p.m., although he mentioned to the cashier that he had some discomfort in his chest area. The waitresses and cashier reported that he was breathing heavily as he left the roadhouse. Local sports fans will remember Mr. Cleaver as the star wide receiver on our local high school team seven years ago  The police report lists Mr. Cleaver’s death as cardiac arrest brought about by his weight, reported to be 587 lbs, and the enormous meal he had just consumed. No autopsy is planned.”

Chester’s funeral was held two weeks later. Jim Bob was there and sure seemed sad. For appearances sake, he even managed to squeeze into his good suit—his landlady had to let out his dress pants as far as possible in the waist and rear so he could shoehorn his big round ass into them while his belly ballooned over the waistband–and he wore a dark tie. At the grave yard, Jim Bob stood with his head bowed as the prayers were being said. He was staring down at the big round bulge his pot belly made in his tight white dress shirt (his suit jacket was so tight he couldn’t button it, leaving the round mass of his fat pot belly proudly on display)  and forcing himself not to betray any sign of the broad smile he felt inside. The old Jim Bob phony sincerity was there in full force.

As the prayers continued and Jim Bob stood with his head bowed and eyes closed, he noticed the familiar fragrance of an expensive perfume. Head still bowed, he opened his eyes and noticed an expensive black silk dress on the female figure which had appeared next to him.  A gloved hand reached over, and unseen by the other mourners, gave Jim Bob’s big soft fat butt cheek a hard squeeze. Polly!

Jim Bob heard Polly softly whisper, “I don’t know what it was that caused me to dump you, Jim Bob. All I know is that I’ve missed you for a long time, sugar. Why don’t we meet back at my place this evening?”

Jim Bob said nothing. He struggled even harder to control the smile  he felt inside as he continued to pretend to pray. His stomach rumbled with hunger while “little Mr. Jim Bob” stiffened to attention. Jim Bob was already thinking of his future…..

midnightmumble  asked:

(1/2)I have to ask: Have you read Flow? If not, I think you might like it, if only because of the crossover potential with Naruto. A quick summary is that every person is born under an animal god. That animal god can grant a wish of the child's when they turn nine. The power of the wish depends on the power of the god (going from housepets to the zodiac, ending with a big four) and the greater the wish, the greater the cost (i.e. tiger: wanted to be the most loved child; mom miscarried and died)

To draw similarities to Naruto, a lot of the time, bloodlines can carry powerful gods. There’s a clan of all big cats; a royal family of dragons. In addition, the ‘children’ of powerful gods(never weaker ones) go to school to learn to use their powers. An especially interesting twist is that powerful gods tend to disguise themselves as weaker ones. So, basically, imagine an AU where the bijuu are the most powerful ‘gods’, and most shinobi have some extra-special tricks up their sleeves.

That sounds amazing and I’m going to definitely look for it. Thank you!

The Big Four eating together

Jack: “Bitches, leave!”

Rapunzel: *gasps*

Merida: … It’s go time. *Rolls up her sleeves, prepares to beat up Jack* 

Hiccup: NONONONOnonono *holds back Merida* We’re playing “Guess the Movie Quote.” That was from Robo Cop.

ok, i’ll bite:

if it’s time for other characters in the show to be developed aside from the four main characters (some of which are still lacking in owed development - cough cough - ruby rose), then how come everyone is only saying this in reference to jaune? ren, nora, and the members of the other teams exist, too. they are also side characters.

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