Mutual Weight Gain Interactive Story

Suggest commands after the section of text is over to continue the story, ala /qst/. Since this story is about MWG, I'd imagine you'd want to direct the story to that goal. Depending on your command, the story's length shall flux. Don't be too unrealistic with the commands, and don't be too forceful of your niche fetish. Also, you may not always need to be Maddie...
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>Swirl the root beer to get the carbonation out. Soak the pizzas in root beer to make them go down better. It doesn't have to be pretty, it just has to WORK.

	The waiter held the stopwatch in his hand. Your fellow Lindsey's story didn't specify any specific sort of "advice," per se, more like general knowledge. The rush of adrenaline within your body proved effective in the desire to just let yourself go and dig in, but the time was nigh to sprout some ideas. You remember when you saw a competitive eater in action once while on a Saturday night YouTube binge. It was a pyramid of hot dogs, and the rotund individual used the liquid given to him to quickly finish off the breaded meat. Well, for starters, you looked at your situation: a liquid, and two solid food items, both in high quantities. Another tip appeared into your mind - how should you speed up the process of eating?

	Fortunately, the waiter did bring some cups to go along with the two liter, surprisingly fanciful considering the rough, ruthless, and unkempt. Matt kept his hands on the table, and looked at you. In your thoughtful trance, he wasn't so sure you were thinking. You were going to pour a cup of root better first, not until the waiter ceased your actions with a pointer finger in the air and hand on the watch. The countdown began. "3...2...1...eat!"

	There wasn't enough time to think, but you poured as much of the liter bottle you could into your glass; the meniscus near the brim of the container. You stirred it with an unwrapped straw, and Matt looked at you while shoving a slice into his mouth. It was hot and steamed the roof of his mouth, so he placed it back onto the board and began to blow upon it to cool it off. The camaraderie you and Matt built over years proved efficient as you prepped the meal for your binging. Lindsey cheered on, giving the occasional thumbs-up.

	As the carbonation within your glass faded, you dipped the slice in - yuck. But, this was no matter for personal preference, it was of a diligent gluttony that you needed to be pressed to its limits. The spirits of the competitive eaters who perished because of quadruple bypasses bewitched your body. You shoved the root beer-dipped pizza into your mouth. Hot! Matt was right with his body language. Resting the moist pizza back onto the board it came from, you aided in Matt's efforts of cooling pizza. The waiter paid no mind to your unusual competitive-eating action. Matt was slightly astonished by your method of pizza-dipping, but couldn't give a well thought out criticism due to the intensity of the moment.

	The pizza heat soon wafted away, as you and Matt both dug into the cooled pizza. You returned the root beer slice to your mouth, chewing it quickly along with a small swill of the root beer. Even though at the end of the challenge, everything would have to be gone - but the root beer was an asset to that supposed success. You needed to use it effectively to achieve that end goal, conserve its precious quantity. Matt hadn't bothered with pouring his own glass of root beer.

	A quarter, a half, a third, the crust...and nothing was left of the initial, soft drink-ridden slice, at least, outside of your stomach. Matt still was burning through his first slice of the cheesy treat, but the smell of 50 wings still remained. You hadn't started on those, at least, not yet. Onto the next slice, and the next slice, and the next slice...Matt was working on his own side of the initial pie, as the feeling of fullness finally came to. Were you falling for the feeble feeling of fullness? No! That was a reality you couldn't accept, but in times of weakness, you felt that it was increasingly filling and noticeable. Your belly was now uncomfortable in the t-shirt you were wearing, but you weren't so sure that it was either its size or its fullness.

	You weren't so sure of Matt's condition, but he moved on from the pizza, after having four slices, and crumbs left where he snagged them from the board, and headed onto the wings. Their aroma overwhelmed that of the pizzas, prominent barbecue taste in the air. At the moment, one of the pizzas was nearly gone, only one more slice remaining. Unfortunately, there was much more to consume, and the fullness between both of you would eventually have your bodies succumb to it. Your paces slowed, but the quiet cheers from Lindsey and the other folks staring at you and Matt's stuffing only added little to your hunger. Briefly, you stare under the table at Matt's lower body - a hand was clutched onto it, his stomach stuffed but not much visible, at your view.

	 Was it...time to give up? No, no, no. Just a little more. But, the thing was, it wasn't a little - over two thirds of the meal still remained. It seemed so overwhelming. This feast couldn't be shared between just two people, and there was a limit of two people...you couldn't take any more. You moaned in discomfort, and wondered if Matt felt the same. His pace came to a halt, as he let his meal digest while he sat idly. "Matt..." was your first word after 25 some minutes. "...have you had enough?"

	He nodded. That was time, then. You and Matt failed. You called over the waiter, and alerted him that you wanted two pizzas boxed along with 45 wings and a two liter bottle with one liter of soda. You failed. He took your meal, and apologized. "I'm so sorry, ma'am and sir. But, it seems like your stomachs can't handle the Three Fifty Two. That'll be $50, please." You hand over three twenties to the waiter, as he takes the money in dismay. Later, while moping around in your defeat, he comes back with two pizzas boxes, a large plastic container, and a bag containing the liter. "Have a nice day, you two." Lindsey waves you off with a frown on her face as you and Matt depart from Pasqual's Pizzeria.

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	You return home as you and Matt both transport the meal onto the kitchen table. "Look, Maddie," he says. "I know you're disappointed, but we're no match to Lindsey's or a competitive eater's ability. We never practiced or trained for the occasion. Let this failure be a message." Matt left the kitchen, as you still stood disgruntled behind the door. You couldn't let this food challenge defeat you. Nothing defeated the great Maddie. If you wanted to succeed, you were going to train, practice, and heed under Lindsey's advice, and Matt was going to help too. You were going to finish that Three Fifty Two...maybe even a second along with it. Yeah, that sounds nice. You and Matt will come back to Pasqual's and come back victorious. The question was, how so..?

>You can have a timeskip here. How long do you want it? Don't exceed a month, and tell me what you'd like to do during the timeskip and after.