1.

Mr Nimby’s palms were itching. He scratched and scratched at them until they were sore with red marks running down the middle. He held his left hand up to his nose and his right nostril flared as he took a big sniff. He grimaced and pulled his face away from his hand.

 

“What on Earth are you doing?” Mrs Catinhellschance asked him.

 

Being rather a short man he looked up at the old woman, and frowned. He had never liked the crazy old bat but this damn new settlement had made allies of them. After all, who in their right mind would want a fat cult moving in down the road? Those people were crazier than she was, and she stunk of urine and screamed at passing cars.

 

“I’m preparing for my speech. What do you think I’m doing?”

 

“Well, it better be a good one. They got that famous lawyer man coming. Ya know, the old Swedish one from the TV news.”

 

Who the fuck still watches the TV news, he thought. “Yes, I’m well aware of that, Irene, thank you.”

 

“He’s very good, ya know.”

 

“I know, Irene. He’s also very old. Quite frankly it’s amazing that he’s still alive given the damn size of him!”

 

“Human rights lawyer, he is.”

 

“Yes, Irene, I know!” He was on the verge of losing his temper.

 

“No need to shout at me, Mr Nimby, I’m only trying to help.”

 

“I know that as well, Mrs Catinahellschance. None of us want this. These people are batshit crazy.”

 

“Who’s batshit crazy?”

 

They both turned round to see Mr Bunterson, famed human rights lawyer from the TV news slowly making his way towards them. He was at least eighty years old, had a full head of wild, curly, grey hair, and a walking stick in each hand to help him keep his balance and take the stress off his spine, caused by the planet sized belly that he was rocking up front.

 

Mr Nimby and his neighbour tried their best not to stare at the old man’s waistline but it was very hard not to. How often does one see a 500 lb plus octogenarian? 

 

“I can only assume that you are referring to myself or my clients?” Steve said.

 

“Too right!” Mr Nimby said. “We don’t want your kind here. You’re a disgrace to this country!”

 

Steve Bunterson instinctively let out a massive burp that he had been saving up, “Buuuurrrrrppppppp!” He blew it in Mrs Catinahellschance’s direction.

 

“Sorry,” he said, “Too much Dr Pepper in the car.”

 

“Vile man,” she spat at him, “Puerile, like a spoiled child!”

 

“And what is wrong with spoiling children Mam? Aren’t children meant to be doted on? The twinkle in our eyes? Do you not believe that the children of America should have everything that they want?”

 

“No, we do not! Isn’t that right, Mr Nimby?”

 

“Yes, that’s right! You people represent everything that is wrong with this country!”

 

What a fucking idiot, Steve thought. He was about to speak when a fourth person entered the hallway. It was the chairman of the town council, Chief Likestotalkandtakespaybacks.

 

“Ah hello Mr Bunterson, so pleased to see you! It’s a real honour to have you here in our town. You must be looking forward to putting your plans forward” He reached out a large Indian hand and shook Steve’s soft wrinkled palm with genuine warmth.

 

“It’s very nice to be here. And yes I’m really excited about the Abundance proposal. I think that it will bring a lot of growth to the region.”

 

“Bollocks!” said Mr Nimby abruptly.

 

Steve Bunterson turned and looked down at the small man over the rim of his round glasses, individually designed at great expense to match his round face.

 

“Very strange turn of phrase for an Okie?” He said, “Have you spent a lot of time in the UK? Mr er..”

 

“Nimby! The names Nimby. And no I’ve not. Though I do like to watch a lot of their comedies online.”

 

“Hmmm, not surprising for a man who hates America. Did you know that Mr Nimby was a red coat-wearing self-hater?” He aimed the question at Chief Likestotalkandtakespaybacks.

 

“No I did not, but I can’t say that I’m at all surprised.”

 

Mr Nimby tried to protest this childish name-calling but he was spoken down by the much larger chairman.

 

“You must be very hungry Mr Bunterson. You’ve come a long way today. We have prepared a special buffet meal before the meeting.”

 

“I thought you’d never ask!” Steve smiled widely at Mrs Catinahellschance, purposefully pushed his belly out and made a loud noise out of not saying goodbye to either her or Mr Nimby.

 

Stupid people like that clearly weren’t worth bothering with. The two of them obviously thought that their protests might actually work. They were both far too stupid to know that they hadn’t just already lost but had in fact lost ten times over.

2.

Steve was sat at a large round table with Chief Likestotalkandtakespaybacks, four young members of the Surplus and three rotund local supporters. Eight of the party glutted themselves to the limits of human endurance while one of them spoke at great length.

 

Considering his advanced years, Steve still knew how to eat. He was now more than 200 lbs lighter than his heaviest ever weight, a consequence of the limited medical technology available to him, but he still more than enjoyed his food.

 

One day the youth of America would no longer need to be restricted by such basic things as the limits of evolution, but that day had not come yet. Steve filled his face with oysters, shrimp, crab legs, and lobster. He quaffed down the quail, and chugged down the champagne. He had developed a real taste for expensive cuisine in his older years. The younger Surplus stuck to pizza, fries, and burgers.

 

Plate after plate was delivered to the table in order to save the guest of honour from having to fetch his own food, and the empties started to pile up as the serving staff struggled to clear the table quickly enough. One Surplus boy, Kaden, 22 years old and just over 300 lbs, was keen to show his abilities off to his elder. He ate so many burgers and cocked back so much Coke that he burst the buttons off his best shirt as his belly bulged. To his delight Steve raised a toast to his achievement and demanded that they all have another round of three more plate fulls in celebration.

 

Chief Likestotalkandtakespaybacks didn’t care one way or the other about the behaviour of his gluttonous guests, he was already dreaming about his upcoming trip to Rio. As far as he was concerned if the white man wanted to eat himself to death then he was more than welcome to do so. He didn’t even raise a note of concern or dismay when the young Surplus and rotund locals started farting wildly at the table. He had done his homework and knew that this was an old Surplus tradition dating back to the camp, so didn’t want to offend his paying guests by commenting on it.

 

After two hours of eating it was time for the meeting to begin. Himself, Steve Bunterson, and Mr Nimby moved to a long table at the front of the room so that they could take it in turns to address the attendees.

 

Steve was very slow to stand and even slower to walk. His replacement knees were suffering from the strain of having to hold up his bulk. His 500 lb frame was now swollen to the max and his huge round low-hanging gut swayed as he shuffled forwards with small heavy steps. Two thousand miles away his twin brother, Henry, was sitting on his sofa eating four whole pavlovas while a servant boy tried to massage the pain away from his fat swollen legs.

 

Chief Likestotalkandtakespaybacks spoke first and at great length. He took ten minutes to go through the attendees, twenty minutes to go over the minutes of the last meeting and half an hour to introduce Steve and the topic of the night. Fortunately for the young Surplus and their local rotund friends there was still plenty of food left on offer to keep them entertained. Poor old Steve just had to sit and listen to it, wishing that he was younger and still sat at the table with the other fat boys.

 

Second to speak was Mr Nimby. This in itself irritated him and he spent fifteen minutes complaining about the fact that the anti-proposal speaker should really get to speak after the proposal in order to be able to rebut it. Chief Likestotalkandtakespaybacks interrupted him three times to state that the order of the speakers had been chosen at random. Mr Nimby finally got to his point.

 

“The Surplus are an unethical, immoral cult that threatens the basis of our country. This obsession with growing as fat as possible may now be very popular but that doesn’t make it right. As decent law-abiding people we should reject them and their principles. Allowing them to build a whole town dedicated to making its citizenry as obese as possible in our county would be not only an acceptance of their way of life but an approval of it…”

 

His speech was interrupted by a slice of strawberry cheesecake hitting him straight in the face. A loud cheer erupted from the table of fat boys.

 

He wiped the sweet sticky dessert from his cheeks and continued. 

 

“That, ladies and gentleman, that is the level of people that we are dealing with! These disgusting gluttonous pigs have no conscience! If we allow them to build on Peterson’s Farm then that is what we are welcoming into our community. And I for one want nothing to do with it!”

 

Mrs Catinhellschance, sat at the back of the room, attempted to applaud him but she was easily drowned out by the boo’s of seven severely obese young men, who jeered and pelted him with after dinner mints. He sat back down.

 

Steve Bunterson rose slowly to his feet. His distended belly bashed into the table in front of him as he stood, knocking over his drink and those of his fellow speakers. He waved a fat old hand up and down to beckon the boys to quieten. They did so immediately.

 

“Mr Nimby is a moron. He is an antiquated idiot. His outdated ideas of morality belong firmly in the last century. A century of untold wars and horrors. He dare not speak it but he clearly believes in the debunked ideals of public health. Of the type that have been rejected by the vast majority of Americans. He seeks only to curtail the liberty of us all. He wishes to deny all of us the right to enjoy our own bodies, to pursue happiness through eating. This is not only unconstitutional, it is downright un-American! This man hates America, he told me so himself earlier this evening. And beyond even this he is not only wrong in his beliefs but he is also wrong in his facts. We are no longer planning to build our new town on Peterson’s Farm but on the reservation. This sale of private land has been agreed with Chief Likestotalkandtakespaybacks and the rest of his tribe. A fair and legal agreement between the original inhabitants of this great land and a people who represent its great future.”

 

Fourteen young heavy hands banged on the large round table in pronounced agreement. Mr Nimby looked at the chairman next to him in total surprise.

 

“Is this true?” He asked him.

 

“Yes,” said Chief Likestotalkandtakespaybacks, “We signed the contract yesterday. The new town of Abundance will be built on twenty seven acres of reservation land. As such the consent of the town council is no longer required. I invited Mr Bunterson to tonight’s meeting as an act of courtesy to the town’s folk so that he himself could talk to you and explain the benefits.”

 

Mr Nimby slumped defeated in his chair. Steve Bunterson’s smile was as wide as his stomach. Fuck these ignorant inbred assholes, he thought. No one would stand in his way.

 

He rose once more to his feet, scratched at the top of his huge belly, straining under his designer 6XL shirt, and began to speak again.

 

“Every American youth has the option to choose our way of life. To choose a fulfilling life of abundance in Abundance. I want every boy in this great country to be able to grow into his full potential. To be the biggest and best that he can be. It is not only his right, it is his birthright! Gaining is the epitome of the American dream and I repudiate anyone who says otherwise. I was lucky as a child that my father cared deeply about me and my brother. He cared enough to not just let us be who we wanted to be but to help and encourage us every bite of the way. He understood human rights better than anyone. While so-called public health crusaders tried to deny us a right to life, liberty, and happiness, through intrusive social programmes that went against the spirit of the founding fathers, our father sent us to fat camp in order for us to indulge in our passion. Meanwhile the public health lunatics attempted to ban trans-fats, they attempted to limit the variety of food available in schools, attempted to limit portion sizes at fast food restaurants, attempted to limit the number of restaurants and food stalls through anti-business zoning laws, there was all sorts of government overreach going on, but we fought them all! And we were victorious! We grew as fat as we wanted in spite of them, and thanks to ever improving medical technology we will continue to grow to new unheard of sizes without any negative health effects! I was once over 700 lbs and lived a perfectly happy life. You my boys, you the future of the Surplus, the future of America, you will soon be able to grow to over 1000 lbs at least! That I have no doubt about. And you will be able to do it in a town called Abundance!”

 

There were loud cheers from the large round table as shouts of “Hip hip hooray” started up. Steve received a standing ovation from his corpulent young followers and a few more heavy set people in the room.

 

“And now my friends, we shall feast to celebrate!”

 

Steve sat back down at the large round table as Chief Likestotalkandtakespaybacks spoke again for another twenty five minutes in order to bring the meeting to an end. Mrs Catinhellschance and Mr Nimby tried to slink quietly out of the door but an extra-large apple pie hit him in the ass as he did so.

 

The elderly Steve Bunterson, attorney at law, four young Surplus, and three new recruits continued to stuff themselves stupid with desserts for the next three hours. They guzzled down gateaux, chomped their chubby chops on chocolate cheesecakes, and downed dozens of delicious dairy donuts each. They swallowed every item in sight until they all strained and heaved around the waist. Every one of them extended themselves to a delirious level. Eight tight stomach bags groaned with delight. More buttons popped and every one of them had to undo his belt and fly in order to let his delightfully overfull belly breath.

 

Steve was so impressed with his fat young charges that he let three of them come back to his hotel room so that they could fellate him and each other.