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.
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>Talk to a couple people. Maybe one of them has tips for the Three Fifty Two.

	"The Three Fifty Two is going to be difficult to eat, anyway," you say. Even in text, it seemed like it would be a large hurdle to come over, requiring a tough and athletic leap to get over. Maybe that metaphor wasn't the one to use - rather, it would be as if the hurdle was made of a rich chocolate and your task was to eat it all. Was this feast bigger than that metaphorical hurdle? These thoughts racked your mind, as you stood idle with two folded hands pushing on your chin. "I think we should ask for some advice from some regulars. Perhaps they've spectated some challengers."

	Matt nods. "You're right, Maddie. Gotta get some help." Matt and you lean over the booth and see a young adult by a parallel booth. Sat down was a plush woman, thighs creating a comfortable cushion for her distended stomach, hidden underneath a black dress, enjoying two slices of pizza, a basket of french fries and a Diet Coke. You tap Matt on the shoulder. "You never see a thin person drinking Diet Coke." Finding this statement humorous, Matt giggles a hushed giggle. Raising your voice, you acknowledge the woman with a pardon. "Excuse me, ma'am, but may you have any tips on eating the Three Fifty Two?"

	The woman places down her pizza and loudly laughs. "Wow, the Three Fifty Two?! You two scrawny things are trying to achieve that kind of goal?" During the humorous occasion, her body erupts with her movement, her good-sized breasts jiggling with her weight, and her stomach replicated the energy. "I do like to see some determined young people. See, I come to Pasqual's at least once a week. It's my favorite pizzeria of all time. In my younger years, around your age, I tried to tackle the Three Fifty Two solo."

	"Please tell us more," you exclaimed. A veteran of this task would bring some aid in your eventual fate. "Oh, you kids nowadays are always so curious." She probably had no right to call you and Matt "kids," but it was probably satire to her. "This was around...five, six years ago? Back then, I came here twice a week, instead. This place does bring a lot of memories. Anyway, it was a dare from my classmates at high school, and they said they'd pay back twice the losing price if I finished it for free. I think the meal's around $50, and even though it may not be much to an adult woman with a job, $100 was something to shoot for. Besides, I think finishing a meal of that magnitude would be a goal in itself."

	The not-so-lithe woman continues. "I think I was a little obsessed about this challenge...so, I decided I'd pick a date and all the people who dared me to do so would spectate the battle in real time. It was around a month until the initial dare until the actual thing happened, so I made sure to 'train' my body beforehand." You were a bit engrossed in the story, but the woman swiveled a leg on top of her other, and raised it a bit higher. She seemed comfortable. "During this training, I had one month to try and change my skinny body to that of a competitive eater's, or, at the very least, trying to mend it towards that. So, I tried to follow some advice online. Drink a lot of water to expand your stomach. Eat a lot of food in general."

	She twists her hand, resting upon the table. She continued to ramble, but you wouldn't call it "rambling." You, and maybe Matt, were interested, as your eyes dazzled. "So, I did. During lunch hours, I doubled my meal intake and begged other people for the food that the didn't eat. Not the food that they partially ate, that's kinda gross. I bought a tumbler and used that to fill myself up with water. As the next couple of weeks passed, I did notice I was gaining a bit of weight whenever I went to the bathroom to check. But, it wasn't any matter. My mom poked fun at my softer midriff, but it's not like something you'd notice..." Oddly, she blushed.

	"...and so the time came. I was confident in myself that I could finish such a big thing of food. So, I came along to the pizzeria with chaperoning from a few groupies who endorsed my efforts. I approached the counter, and I said with a loud yet slow in paced voice." She breathed in a bit of air to mimic the voice she used. "Three. Forty. Two." Endearing, to the nth degree. She broke up the silence with a slight chuckle. "So, I sat eager and steadfast, comforting my pot belly to prepare for the meal ahead. Thus, it came. To be honest, I don't really remember the whole focus of eating the thing - the sounds of the crowd whenever I finished off a part of the meal, and the cheers of my fellow students making me a bit distracted. I don't think they impeded my progress, though."

	"I raised the two liter in the air, with audible swallows. The thing is, I had a whole pizza and ten other wings - did I have sauce on them? I forget. But, I finally succumbed to my fullness when there was around a quarter left of the soda. I gasped, and I fell back onto the booth behind me, stomach clutched. I never bothered to pull down my shirt while in the process of eating, so my stomach was visible to the ones who peered below the table. The people clapped, but they said that a 'deal was a deal.' So, I had to hand them $50 of my own money. In defeat, I had a waitress box my meal, as I carried them with shame all the way home."

	"Later that night, I wasn't letting myself go so easily. I pulled all the leftovers out of the fridge and went on a late-night binge of the rest of the food. I still felt remnants of the two pizzas, forty wings and the three quarters of the Diet Coke I drank down. Was it diet? Again, I forget. So, there I was, my greedy self at midnight eating all the rest. I ate everything. I felt some of my pride restored, but the shame that came with my failure still remained. I swore when I woke up the next day I gained a whole pound. It was probably my young feeble mind thinking these sorts of those things, but the whole thing is so fantastical. My name is Lindsey, and I'll be cheering you on."

	Such a nice story...you were pondering the whole thing before a voice called out. "Hey, you two! What sauce, drink, and topping do you want?"

>What do you suggest for the topping, the drink, and the sauce? Anything else to do?