Jonathan Bradshaw - Obese Goodra
Underground Pastry Factory
Affected RPers: @Noblejanobii

Whoever this guy was, he was kind enough to push the conveyor away so this stupid thing wouldn't keep stuffing me to oblivion. Not to mention it allowed me to talk again, which was important if I wanted to work some kind of plan with him.

His problem wasn't too much better. He needed a way to kill himself as well, and for all we knew, this place probably didn't have lots of nooses hanging around just for the occasion. If he stayed here, the same thing that happened to me would probably happen to him.

"Lasssth Aii sshaaw 'eerr, wheee weeerrr ahiinnn sshaoome fffoowthaain rhoom," I moaned to him, hoping he would be able to understand it. "Sshaee whaass ahookaay bbaaffooorree tthhe rhoom faeell aahparrtt, buuhht aii dahoon'tt khanoo whaa haappaheennd taa 'eerr thaat.

Last I saw her, we were in some fountain room. She was okay before the room fell apart, but I don't know what happened to her after that.

But, as we both knew, she could be anywhere, and my whole plan of mapping things out so people could find each other and break their way out of here had resulted in the Trick Master warping everything around to the dark side. Meanwhile, this guy was still stuck in here, so even if he killed me with the crane, I didn't exactly see a whole lot of ways he could kill himself after the fact. Not unless he wanted to die slowly and painfully in the bakery ovens or get chopped to bits in a bloody mess in one of the machines. If he jumped off the catwalk, that would probably only break his legs and not be enough of a fatal fall. Not to mention his rotund Wigglytuff body might not be as affected by the drop compared to what it would do to a human.

An idea came to me, but it was a horrible one. It would cause a ton of damage to this place and it would kill both of us, but it was the morbid process of it that had me anxious. But, from the little I could look around, there really wasn't another way out of this.

The only way for us both to die was if he stuffed the conveyor belt to my mouth again, turned the dial to max speed, and jump right on it. I'd swallow him along with the other desserts, stuff myself with as many desserts as possible in the shortest amount of time, and I'd probably get so huge that I'd explode and cause all kinds of massive collateral damage to this place. It would both kill both of us and utterly destroy the place and ruin everything inside it, but just the very thought of it was morbid. If I wanted to destroy as much of the Trick House as possible, I had to get creative. This whole place had to be destroyed at all costs... even if it involved something like this.

I had to explain the whole idea to him slowly and carefully, and it wasn't easy with these stuffed cheeks, huge tongue, and this bellowing Goodra voice. As much as disliked the idea, the aftermath would ensure they couldn't do this to anyone else. But if we went through with this, I wasn't sure who was going to have it worse. Him getting buried in my stomach under a mountain of desserts until he was crushed against the stomach wall or me getting so painfully inflated to the point where my body couldn't stretch out any further and exploded because of it. As much as the idea of turning myself into a giant bomb was disturbing, it would definitely be the end of this place. Otherwise, we would be stuck here forever in these sorry states. If I wanted to put an end to this horrible place, I had to use whatever weapon I could, even if it meant turning myself into one.

My hope was it was quick for both our sake. And if we met up again, I was seriously hoping we wouldn't mention this to anyone.