Jonathan Bradshaw - Obese Goodra
Underground Pastry Factory
Affected RPers: N/A

I thought getting burned to death as a zombie after wanting to devour a teenage girl was probably the worst kind of fate the Trick Master could have devised. It was cruel, evil, and it really showed how much of a heartless bastard this guy really was. Not to mention it put me in a position where I couldn't do much damage to this new, darker Trick House.

When I woke up, I wasn't sure where I was or if I was still a zombie, but I figured I probably wasn't. I saw what looked like a massive, wet and slimy purple blob in front of me, and I realized I must have been stuck in and on top of it, probably in some kind of trap. I tried to push my way out of it with my arms, only to realize my arms felt incredibly heavy and I could barely move them, plus they were covered and dripping with slime, which felt disgusting. I then tried to look for some kind of solution to whatever this mess was, only to find out my cheeks were inflated like balloons and felt like they weighed a ton each. What kind of trap was this? Meanwhile, all around me, it seemed to be some kind of factory that was mass-producing cakes, donuts, cinnamon buns, and other pastries that had to be a hundred times their normal size.

I then realized the horrible truth. I wasn't stuck or trapped in some kind of giant, sticky purple blob. I was the blob, and in trying to look around this pastry factory for an escape, after taking my best guess, I had somehow been reborn as a Goodra... one that had to have weighed well over a dozen million pounds...

"Youff godda be kiddin mee..." I bellowed to myself, barely able to speak with my enlarged tongue and puffy cheeks.

I tried to pat my absolutely oversized and monstrous belly with my arms to get an idea of exactly how much room I was taking up by feeling how much of my gut was between them. I felt like they were miles apart, and I couldn't believe this massive, slimy blob that was all over the place was all me. This was just total Pokémon cruelty to the max. And I felt it soon after. Ravaging hunger that could probably never be satisfied in a state like this. I tried not to look at all the pastries moving by the giant conveyor belts, although I wasn't even sure if I could reach them like this with this giant, flabby arms.

Well, you've certainly outdone yourself this time, Trick Master. This is just vile.

Again, it was another helpless form I couldn't use in any way to do damage to the Trick House and now, unlike the zombie, I wasn't even able to move and I felt disgusting on all levels. This was awful. If the Trick Master kept doing things like this, I was screwed for who knows how long. And I was already getting a bad idea of how he was going to torture me in this mess.

"Oh ho ho, hello there!" An overly-jolly and chubby pastry chef dressed in white with a stupid puffy chef's hat greeted me from a suspended catwalk platform. "You look so famished!"

This guy had to be blinder than a Zubat and dumber than a bag of hammers. What this Goodra needed was a hell of a weight loss plan and to fast hard for probably the next three thousand years. But the mind-controlling hunger and desire for those pastries was telling me who cared, I was already fat beyond hope and there was no sense in trying to reverse it at this point. If I was going to croak from gluttony, might as well enjoy it!

Damn it, I tried to put that voice out of my head and stop it from controlling me. It was hard, and the smells of those pastries were intoxicating. And my mouth was already salivating at just the smells of those things and could only wonder how delicious they probably tasted. Deep inside this massive Goodra body, my gigantic stomach was totally devoid of anything and was screaming to be stuffed.

It's a trap, don't eat anything!

"...Noo..." I lied to the fat pastry chef.

But, it wasn't like I could just stand up and walk out the door. I even tried, and my pudgy feet were hopelessly buried until this massive, slimy pile of myself. Forget it, I wasn't going anywhere. This situation provided even a lesser amount of hope than the prison zombie mess! How was I supposed to get out of this one!?