Heartless Whitehouse Separates Children from their Families

Brianna Button, LA TIMES Gainer Correspondent.        7th July 2052

 

In scenes reminiscent of the internment of citizens of Japanese origin during World War Two, today saw the forced removal of hundreds of innocent American children here in our own city. On a normal suburban street, deep in the Inland Empire, parents wept openly as their cradles of joy were taken from them.

 

Rounded up by Public Health Officers (PHOs) these oversized but harmless little cows were herded onto buses under the orders of a ‘caring’ government. The administration says that the ‘summer camps’ are for their own good, but that is hard to believe when you see the terror in the faces of so many chubby but normal 10 to 17 year olds as they are dragged away kicking and screaming.

 

Forcibly removed from their comfortable suburban lives these shrieking little balls of fat openly begged to be allowed to stay. Tears rolled down their bloated terror ridden faces as the reality of two months of exercise and healthy eating routines dawned on their selfish young minds.

 

The head of the Department of Health, Dr Steve Stringer, says that they will return fitter, healthier, and happier people. Despite all of the science that he likes to cite it is hard to see how that could possibly be true when some of them are literally begging to be killed rather than separated from their gaming stations, snacks, and fast food deliveries.

 

The Surplus movement, far from strangers to controversy, now find themselves on the moral side of the argument due to the heavy-handed and potentially unconstitutional actions of the President. Legal challenges to Democratic public health initiatives have grown in number over the last few years and the amount of wealthy outraged parents and fat rights organisations prepared to step up and take on the public health lobby is now bound to increase.

 

Former Surplus presidential candidate, Tom Stanton, 813 lbs, said; “The evil intentions behind the actions of so-called ‘Dr’ Steve Stringer and his so-called ‘health’ department, have now been laid bare for all to see. Not content with depriving millions of American children the right of what to chose to eat at school, not content with spreading lies about obesity and health through the curriculum, not content with mandatory ‘gym’ classes, he has now taken the ultimate step of removing your children from your care and placing them in re-education camps. This self-proclaimed Stalinist and the ‘President’ that he represents want to turn this country into communist China. First they came for the fat kids; who will they come for next? This chaos and cruelty has to stop.”

 

Where it will stop is hard to see. Who they will come for next is easier to answer. Over the next few weeks hundreds of thousands of America’s youth, who have identified themselves as either gainers or just fat welcoming, will be rounded up and shipped to public health camps in order to lose weight and be re-educated in the importance of living a healthy lifestyle. The argument over who gets to choose what lifestyle they want to lead is going to go on for now, but at some point something will have to break.

1.

“Where’s Jason?”

 

“Not here, he’s at one of those other camps.”

 

“What? Why? Why would he choose a different camp?”

 

“He didn’t choose.”

 

“Oh fuck!”

 

“Oh, yeah!”

 

“Poor Jason! How the hell did that happen?”

 

“He was visiting his aunt in Delaware and they got him.”

 

“Oh man, that’s awful!”

 

“I think she handed him in.”

 

“What a cunt!”

 

“The worst cunt. His parents are furious.”

 

“No wonder, my Dad would kill anyone who even tried to do that to me!”

 

“I think she’s his Mom’s sister.”

 

“She’s his Mom’s cunt! Those places are like torture chambers!”

 

“Apparently you’re only allowed three meals a day!”

 

“What the fuck is wrong with these people?”

 

“And they make you drink water!!”

 

“Wait! If Jason’s not coming, does that mean that there’s an extra feeding tube?” Ben’s eyes lit up with delight at this thought.

 

“Oh, yeah!” Clive said with a wicked smile.

 

“I’ll eat you for it?”

 

“OK”

 

“First to empty their vat wins?”

 

“You’re on!”

2.

Shawn hated maths, he always had. Addition he was fine with, but subtraction and even worse, division, had always hurt his brain. For some reason he had never been able to grasp the concept. Fortunately for him the numbers that Henry and Steve were running him through were fairly simple.

 

“We estimate that by the end of the month they will have taken in 325,000,” Henry said.

 

“And how many of those do you predict will buy into their bullshit?” Shawn asked.

 

“About 30% based on your Dad’s own estimates. He believes that most of them will have to attend for several summers before they are converted.”

 

“So that’s like what about 50,000?”

 

“More like a hundred, babe,” Henry said.

 

“Fuck! We have to ensure that every poor soul put through this hell leaves angrier and hungrier than before.”

 

“We are working on that,” Steve said.

 

“And how are our numbers looking?”

 

“Well, overall they are clearly down as your fucking cunt of a father has literally kidnapped half of our customer base, however, we have seen a bunce back in the last few days as people see sending their kids to us as an act of defiance,” Steve explained.

 

“Some parents see our camps as being the safest place for their kids. We should push that angle,” Henry added.

 

“So what’s our free capacity right now?”

 

“20% of bed’s are empty, but like I said if we push the safety angle then I’m sure we can sell…”

Shawn interrupted his lover; “No. We won’t sell another bed. Give them away.”

 

“What?” Steve said, “Do you have any idea how much that will cost us?”

 

“It will cost us more if we don’t. Give them away to any boy who wants them, fat or thin. Announce it tomorrow and give them away. First come, first served.”

 

“Like any good buffet,” Henry added, to Shawn’s pleasure.

 

“Also, the other camps, Berlin them. No fatty left behind.”

 

“Morally Shawn, I agree with you, but that’ll also cost a fortune, and the Florida case starts in the Supreme Court soon. If this doesn’t work we could be in real trouble,” Steve said.

 

“Oh stop your damn worrying and have another calf,” Shawn said. He knew it would work out fine.

3.

Axel was dead. He couldn’t remember how or why, but he knew he was dead. Satan was, for some strange reason, wearing one of those sexy devil halloween costumes. A costume which exposed his pear shaped ass and soft chubby feminine thighs.

 

“Why am I here?” Axel asked.

 

“You shot someone.”

 

“Who did I shoot?”

 

“Shawn.”

 

“Is he dead?”

 

“No.”

 

“Oh,” Axel said, looking bewildered.

 

“Why did I shoot him?”

 

“Because I wanted you to.”

 

“Then why isn’t he dead?”

 

“Because you missed.”

 

“I missed?”

 

“Well, you hit him in the shoulder, but I count that as a miss. Ya know, when the target is over 800 lbs that’s a pretty bad miss.”

 

Axel blinked as the cogs in his brain started to stir.

 

“You didn’t want him to die?” He asked.

 

“Of course not, he has work to do.”

 

Axel paused again for a moment before speaking.

 

“How did I die?”

 

“Do you really want to know?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You were farted to death by eight immensely fat flatulent teenagers.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“They were quite angry at you for shooting their God.”

 

“What happens now?”

 

“You’ll be hooked up to one of my feeding machines and fed for eternity, or until you're bigger than the universe. Whichever comes sooner.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because this is hell!”

 

Axel remained amazingly calm given the apparent seriousness of his situation.

 

“But why am I in hell if I didn’t kill anybody?”

 

Danni’s chubby face filled with the rage of a billion butchered souls. Her dimpled cheeks scrunched up so tight that the sparks from hell’s fires seemed to appear from within them. In the deep booming voice of a 1000 lb man from Rhode Island, he screamed so loud that Axel actually felt like his head was going to be blown off;

 

“BECAUSE YOU’RE A LYING CUNTING SCUMBAG TURNCOAT PIECE OF SNIVELLING DOG FELCH WHO WOULD FUCK HIS OWN GRANNY IN THE FACE IF HE THOUGHT IT WOULD BENEFIT HIM!!!”

 

“Fuck you, Shawn!” Axel screamed back at him.

4.

The two senior boys in cabin six were the fattest of the fat. They had to be. For starters, only the offspring of the inner circle or children of previous camp attendees were allowed anywhere near Camp Shawn. For years the original fat camp had been the sole privilege of the privileged. To be allowed to stay in the sacred cabin six you had to be really special.

 

Ben Stranger was the son of a previous attendee, one who had been present when Shawn was crowned. This gave Ben an almost God-like status amongst the other campers.

 

Clive English was the son of an Oxford professor and leader of the Surplus movement in Europe. He would have been afforded a similar level of status and respect to Ben, but he wasn’t American.

 

The two blimped out boys were so ridiculously fat for their ages that it was almost unbelievable. The idea that any human would be able to consume the sheer amount of food required to become that obese, in such a short lifetime, stretched the limits of possibility.

 

They sat in matching, heavily padded, steel framed, wing back chairs looking at a painting of Shawn’s coronation. In the picture Shawn’s face was beaming like the sun. His huge belly, bloated like a hot air balloon spilled so far out into his lap that it reached his knees. It hung over the sides of his thick tree-trunk thighs, where it climbed up and around his sides to join his thick fat love handles that rode up against the sides of the extra-wide throne.

 

Neither of the boys would ever have dared say it outloud, but the king’s belly looked tiny compared to their own.

 

They suckled contentedly on three feeding tubes; two in Ben’s mouth and one in Clive’s. As they basked in the glow of the king’s grin their ginormous bellies filled and swelled on an endless supply of pulverised pig fat. The gelatinous goop slopped down their gullets in 20 oz blobs. Every globule of fat tasted of smoked bacon and settled seductively into their massively oversized and straining stomachs. Every thick drop felt glorious as they felt their heaving lower torsos grow heavier and heavier. Yet, somehow, after three hours of feeding they still felt ravishingly hungry. Hungrier than before they had started. Especially Ben, who had consumed twice as much as his friend. Their giant bodies, craving solid food, slowly made their way to the dining hall for the opening night’s twenty two course feast.

5.

Jason felt awful. The gnawing pain in his howlingly empty stomach had kept him awake for the last three nights in a row. The first two days of camp had been bad but somehow bearable, now however, five days in, he knew his body was eating itself just to survive. The knowledge of this was causing his pig brain to spin around and around in circles like the rotating blades of a helicopter. Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh, it went. Over and over again. How had it come to this? How was this even possible? He grabbed onto the soft loose skin that was once his magnificently tight belly and pushed his fingers deep into the sagging layers of fat in a futile attempt to relieve the hunger cramps that were gripping him. Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh. It became so loud that it sounded like the noises in his head were outside. He heard yelling and commotion.

 

“They’re here! They’re here! They’ve come to save us!”

 

“Food, food!” Another voice yelled, “So much wonderful food!”

 

Jason jumped out of bed and out of the cabin in spite of his nakedness.

 

To his amazement it was raining meatballs. Thick, succulent juicy meatballs fell from the sky like hailstones sent from the Gods. Jason stuck out his cupped hands and caught five. He rammed them into his mouth, closed his eyes, and thanked Shawn as he bit down. The juice from the meatball covered his greedy tongue, he sighed with heavenly pleasure before swallowing, leaning his head back and opening his mouth to the sky. As meatball after meatball rolled down his throat he felt the pain in his hollow stomach begin to ease and reopened his eyes.

 

Once more amazed, he saw a hundred fat boys running around in delight, catching and eating the heavenly bounty. Most of them semi or completely naked, wearing ill-fitting night clothes or nothing at all. Their recently aching bellies once more starting to bounce with youthful pride. He continued to catch and consume as many as humanly possible when his attention was drawn to a wonderfully rotund blonde boy with the biggest beach ball belly that he had ever seen. The boy was fully erect and eating a pork pie. It was only then that Jason realised that other foodstuffs were also falling from the sky.

 

Still munching on handfuls of meatballs he made his way over to the mesmerizing boy.

 

“Hi, I’m Jason,” he said. The ball bellied boy smiled.

 

“Hi, I’m Billy, Billy Buntersson. Isn’t this just wonderful?”

 

“It sure is!”

 

“Come sit with me and eat”

 

The two boys sat down and started to scoop up mountains of meatballs and pies that had settled on the dewy grass. They ate as quickly as they could, concerned, despite the bounty, that they wouldn’t get their fair share. Other boys started to do the same, their fat legs quickly tiring as their bellies once more started to swell. With a sudden plop Jason felt something warm and wet land on his head. Billy broke out into hysterical laughter. A string of thick warm spaghetti fell across Jason’s face. He pursed his lips and sucked it in. Billy thought him the cutest boy ever as he watched him eat all two kilos off his head, gulping it down, as if he was consuming his own hair.

 

David Dolittle came bounding across the grass; “Boys! Boys! Stop! You were all doing so well!”

 

They paid him no heed and he soon gave up and trudged dejectedly back to the main house.

 

The food kept raining down for the next twenty minutes or so. The spaghetti, meatballs, and pies were followed by hot dogs, burgers, and tacos. It was all low quality but magnificently calorific. For dessert it rained donuts and cupcakes. Five thousand of them for one hundred very hungry boys.

 

As the sun began to rise, a hundred ripe young swollen bellies lay splayed out on the grass. As the morning chorus of burps and farts rang out to greet the dawn, the boys refuelled and full of vigour, began to pleasure themselves and each other. They tore at each other’s pyjamas with their teeth, being sure to expose any still hidden layers of fat to the glorious sun. Those who were like that pawed and kissed over their newfound lover’s bloated bellies and love handles. They suckled each other and those that were old enough did dirtier deeds. Those of a different persuasion either pleasured themselves or allowed their thick sausages to be taken in the mouth of a still hungry boy. Billy, down on all fours, presented himself to Jason, and farted loudly, causing his huge moon shaped buttocks to quiver. Jason hoovered up the stink with his tongue before sinking his gigantic belly into the small of Billy’s back. Like that they pounded until the groans of others became too much for them to bear and they joined in with the orgy of thick young cum that rained down over the ‘Public Health Camp’. Praise Shawn.

6.

“You were right, it was worth the expense.” Steve said.

 

“Have you seen the news this morning?” Henry asked.

 

“No, but I know what it fucking says. I’m a fucking hero.”

 

Steve handed Shawn his tablet anyway. The LA Times homepage was open on the screen, the headline read; Surplus come to the rescue of detained American teens. 

 

Shawn casually threw the tablet down into the hot tub water and scooped a handful of shrimp into his mouth. Followed by another. BUURRRPPP.

 

“That was a big one,” Henry said, “like a horny elephant.”

 

Shawn picked up the floating bucket and began to empty the remaining shrimp into his throat. He slapped the bottom of the container in order to emancipate the last shrimp stuck to the bottom and burped again, BUUUURRRRPPPPP!

 

“It’s this new stomach,” he said, “I’m still breaking it in.”

 

“Would you like some help with that?” Henry asked.

 

Shawn just smiled. Such stupid questions didn’t require answering. As Steve called for more food two 100 lb toddlers wobbled in through the door.

 

“Why hello Luke and Liam, how are you today?”

 

“Great fanks Uncle Henry!” Luke replied.

 

“We had shocolate ice cream for breakfast!” Liam beamed.

 

“That sounds great,” Henry said, “did you save me any?”

 

“No,” Liam scowled with bemusement.

 

“Good boys,” Henry said.

 

Shawn was irritated; “Get this damn kids out of here! I thought we were about to fuck?”

7.

David Dolittle was in his element. Despite the Surplus incursions he truly believed that the camp was working well. He felt happy for the first time in many years. This was where he was supposed to be, this is what he was supposed to be doing; publicly weighing overweight teenagers at a fat camp. He felt young. The first boy was called up.

 

“Tommy Tubbyson, 329 lbs, a loss of 3 lbs. That’s 6 lbs below target but not to worry Tommy, it’s a decent start.”

 

Tommy spat at his feet but David was nimble enough to take a step back so as to avoid the spiteful saliva sticking to his shoes. “Ok, next,” he said.

 

“Bertrand Burgerburper, 412 lbs, a loss of er.. nothing. “Oh dear Bertrand, you will have to try harder. Bertrand just sniggered at him.

 

“Gordon Gutfiller, ... is that your real name Gordon?”

 

“Is your name really Mr Cuntfucker?”

 

“John, John! I think someones been fucking about with the names on my list!”

 

“Do you think? Cuntfucker!” Gordon said to the amusement of every detainee present.

 

“You’ll just have to go with it,” a voice from the back of the room shouted.

 

David pretended to shuffle his paper list and continued.

 

“Gordon Gutfiller, 356 lbs, a loss of 1 lb.”

 

“Fuck you!” Gordon shouted as he left the stage and showed David his podgy middle finger.

 

“Peter Pizzabelly, erm..” David was starting to lose his composure. He wiped the sweat from his brow.

 

“Peter Pizzabelly, 392 lbs, an erm… gain of 3 lbs.”

 

“BOOM!!” the 13 year old boy shouted as he bashed his fist into the side of his giant round gut, causing it to release a sloshing sound as it shook and wobbled.

 

“But, how… , how have you…”

 

“Praise Shawn!” he replied and left the stage.

 

The weigh-in continued in much the same vein as boy after boy was paraded out and declared to have lost nothing to very little. Finally it was time for Jason and Billy.

 

“Jason Juggernaut, 512 lbs, a loss of nothing.” David sighed, all of his enthusiasm long since drained out of him by the rude behaviour of every obnoxious fat boy thrilled by their lack of improvement. Jason was no different. Almost as tall as David, he faced up to him, stared straight into his eyes and whispered;

 

“I know who you are. Shawn should have killed you when he had the chance.”

 

“Fuck you,” David retorted.

 

“What do you think all these kids are going to do when they find out the truth?”

 

David attempted to push him away, but Jason was too heavy, so he just shouted “Next!” and Jason left the stage.

 

Watching the huge boy go, David didn’t see Billy Buntersson enter the stage, so when he turned around and saw the blonde butterball standing right next to him he shrieked in fright.

 

It can’t be? He thought. It’s not possible. This boy was identical to Steve and Henry at that age. Maybe a bit bigger? But otherwise identical. How? What? He asked himself. It’s not possible, he thought. How can gay twins produce a child? Was he a clone or something?

 

When he read the name on the sheet he almost fainted. It must have been part of the wind up? Whichever camper had accessed the names on the list must have known how to really get to him.

 

“Are we ever going to fucking do this?” Billy asked him.

 

The voice was so familiar in sound that David trembled. Who was this impossible incest child? And if he was who he seemed to be then why was he here?

 

“Er… yes, of course. Billy er … Buntersson, 642 lbs, a gain of er … 15 lbs.”

 

The room erupted in cheers as Billy proudly attempted to lift his huge heavy belly in celebration. David said nothing. He made a quick exit to talk to John, leaving Billy and his belly alone on stage to enjoy the moment.

 

“We’ve got a real problem,” he told John, as the sound of helicopters could be heard overhead.

8.

The professor wore a custom made tweed jacket with elbow patches that perfectly fitted his globular body shape. At only five feet two inches tall, English Johnny was as wide as he was high. Now slightly balding, he burped and scratched at the crown of his belly before opening his speech with his standard ten minute section about how sphere’s were the most commonly occurring shape in the universe and that there was hence nothing more natural than being spherical.

 

The two hundred students in attendance at the Oxford Union had heard it all before but lapped it up anyway. They listened to the portly professor while they munched on their popcorn and crisps. They laughed and clapped in all the right places but it was the guest speaker who they had queued up to see. Johnny introduced the main attraction:

 

“Now boys, I’m very glad to be able to introduce to you one of my oldest and dearest friends. I first met him and his brother many years ago at a little summer camp in Indiana. You may have heard of it? Despite the fact that I was just a wee little chubby bumpkin, this man and his friends took me in. They were the oldest, coolest, and fattest kids at the camp and I was honoured that they considered me a friend and let me eat with them. Since those early days we have worked hard together to grow the Surplus movement into what it is today; the most successful civil rights campaign in human history! So, it is with great pride that I welcome to the stage my dear friend and honoured Surplus, Dr Steve Buntersson, Attorney of Law!”

 

Steve strode powerfully onto the small stage and looked up at the stained glass windows behind him. He made no effort to address or thank Professor English. Clothed in full evening dress, the same as the students were required to wear for such important events, he pushed his huge hand through his wild blonde locks and turned quickly to face his audience who went wild. They would have given him a standing ovation but that would have meant standing up and most of them had come straight from dinner.

 

He spoke with amazing energy and force for a man who weighed over 850 pounds. His gigantically fat arms moving with real pace as he visually demonstrated his points. His elephantine belly bulged and shook as he boomed out his words:

 

“Hedonistic eating is a human right!” He began. 

 

“Nothing is more natural to the innate behaviour of human beings. Not reproduction, not sex, not even breathing! I am going to explain this evening how the fake news and pseudo-science propagated by the propagandists who shamefully claim to be, and portray themselves, as scientists are wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong!

 

My home country, the USA, is currently run by fat-shaming, hate filled sceptics who in spite of overwhelming public opposition cling to their false narratives of public health policies. After decades of research and public opinion that confounds their messaging at every step, they continue to bang on about the fictitious dangers of the fictitious obesity epidemic! They look at strong, healthy, intelligent, young men like yourselves and instead of seeing the future, the next great leaders of the free world, what do they see? They see disease!! What could be more demeaning? More dehumanising?!

 

As far back as 2012, when I was still just a plush teenager with a little bit of remaining puppy fat, a study led by Dr Monteleone, a then leading endocrinologist, published a paper at this University called, ‘Hedonic eating is associated with increased peripheral levels of ghrelin and the endocannabinoid 2-arachidonoyl-glycerol in healthy humans.’ I know that might be a bit of a mouthful but let me repeat; in healthy humans!!

 

For at least forty years it has been known that the pleasures associated with hedonic eating habits are natural and healthy! Digestive hedonism releases serotonin and endorphins that make us feel good! What on Earth is wrong with that? What sort of evil bastards don’t want people to be happy?!

 

In his study, Dr Monteleone and his colleagues purposefully overfed subjects with highly fatty and sugar filled foods. This experimental group were found to be much more satisfied and jovial after eating than the poor unlucky fools who found themselves in the control group. They were basically fed a diet of leaves and other rabbit food and became clinically depressed by comparison. A more obvious finding could not have been found! If you deny human beings access to fundamental life giving functions like sugar, meat, and gravy then what do you expect to happen?

 

This study and many more like it since, funded by the Surplus, have shown time and time again that people are healthier and happier when they are fat! When given access to unlimited amounts of highly calorific foodstuffs, a human right according to the UN by the way, people live fuller, more satiated, and satisfied lives.

 

We all know this to be a fundamental truth. All who commit to eating as much as they want, whenever they want, know from the bottom of their guts, that what they are doing is both wonderful and natural. Nothing in the world beats the feeling of a powerful ejaculation up against the heaving underside of a massively bloated belly straight after a twenty or thirty thousand calorie feast. We all know this to be self-evident!

 

When the current detainment system of public health re-education camps fails, and it surely will, we, the Surplus, the fat loving, good people of the world, need to be ready to help our tortured brothers. That is why I am so thankful for all the love, support, and donations that we have received from the great people of the United Kingdom. Every pound sterling that you raise or donate helps add a pound to the waistline of a starving concentration camp victim.

 

The UK is a great country, a free country, where fat people have long been free to eat and grow as big as they want and still receive free health care. The national socialist, I mean democratic party could learn a lot from you guys.

 

Thank you for listening and if anyone has any questions I’ll be happy to take them at the Nando’s across the street.”

9.

Jason wiped the remainder of the cum from his lips. He had just finished sucking Billy Buntersson off against the perimeter fence after a particularly satisfying post-weigh-in airdrop. The two giant fat boys lay on the woodland floor, bellies pressed up against each other, basking in the warmth of their embrace, their oversized underwear still around their ankles.

 

“What are you thinking about, babe?” Billy asked.

 

“Honestly?” Jason prodded a thick finger into Billy’s deep stretched navel. “How have you been able to gain so much? The airdrops have been a lifesaver but almost everyone else only managed to maintain or even still lost a few pounds. Have you got a secret stash or something?”

 

“Have you ever seen me go to a secret stash or snack on the side?”

 

“No. We’ve been together pretty much 90% of the time since we met and I’ve never seen you eat any more than anyone else. That’s why I’m confused.”

 

“That’s because the extra food is already inside me.”

 

Jason furrowed his brow with confusion, “What? How can you gain from food you already ate?”

 

“The Surplus fixed it for me. I have a bag stitched in below the skin of both love handles.”

 

Billy grabbed hold of his fat sides and produced a quiet yet distinct sloshing sound by shaking them gently.

 

“A few of us have them, across several different camps,” he said.

 

“Bags of what? You are big babe but there can’t possibly be room in there to store all the food required.”

 

“Pure liquid calories. It’s a new Surplus invention. Something about fatty pig liver and E-numbers. I never understood the science. I’m carrying over half a million calories. Small amounts are released into my stomach at regular twenty minute intervals. More than enough to keep me growing all summer, even without the airdrops.”

 

“That’s amazing babe! So you and these other guys are like what? Spies?”

 

“Not spies, disrupters. We’ve been selected by the inner circle. The aim is to undermine the camps. Prove that gaining is a natural state. That the public health drive doesn’t work and never will.”

 

“The inner circle, wow! About that, I’ve been meaning to ask…”

 

“About my name?”

 

“Yes, babe.”

 

“They are my Dad. Steve and Henry are my parents.”

 

“I assumed that. I just didn’t want to pry.”

 

“It’s fine, babe. I love you. You can ask.”

 

“This may be a stupid question but how are they both your Dad?”

 

“They gave birth to me. As twins they are genetically identical, so they both jacked off into the same petri dish. That way there would be no way to know who the winning sperm came from and it wouldn’t matter.”

 

“That’s amazing, babe.”

 

“Awww, thank you.”

 

“Honestly, that’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard.”

 

“Can I trust you, Jason?”

 

“With all of your belly, babe.”

 

“They’ve cracked it.”

 

“You don’t mean?”

 

“Yes. The operation. It’s been performed successfully many times. Twice on Shawn, himself.”

 

“So we can really…”

 

“We can grow as fat as we want. Fatter than anyone ever thought possible.”

 

“And twice on Shawn?”

 

“That’s why he’s so much bigger than the rest of us.”

 

“That’s wonderful!”

 

“My Dad said that I could also get two. So long as I break 800 at camp. Which with these bags will be easy as.”

 

“Oh, babe!” Jason gave Billy a short but passionate kiss on the lips.

 

“I will do everything possible to make that happen!” He declared.

 

“If I manage it babe, then I could also ask for you too. If you would like that?”

 

“That would be beyond my wildest dreams!!” Jason once more kissed Billy, this time tongue deep and opened mouthed.

 

“We will be the fattest cutest couple ever!” Billy cried.

 

“I think your Dads might have something to say about that!”

 

“They will welcome the challenge.” Billy smiled, heaved his heavy body up off the floor and squatted his enormously fleshy ass over Jason’s face and let rip the longest, stinkiest, and most obnoxious fart ever blown.

 

“Dad taught me everything I know,” he giggled.

10.

Former Surplus presidential candidate Tom Stanton, 836 lbs, felt the precum stain his boxer shorts. There was something about being in Shawn’s presence that made him feel like he was seventeen again. They were meeting in the private room at the back of Comet Ping Pong.

 

“How are you doing Shawn?” Tom asked.

 

“1256 lbs and hoping that these pizzas are as good as you say they are.”

 

“I assure you they’re the best in the world.”

 

“I fucking hope so, I’ve come a long way for this.”

 

“How is it having your mobility back? It must feel wonderful to know that you will never again be limited due to size?”

 

“It’s obviously awesome, though I do kinda miss the hot tub, it was very relaxing in there.”

 

“Dude, you can still use the hot tub!”

 

“Not at the moment. It’s being extended and fitted with larger seating areas and stronger jets.”

 

“Can’t wait to try it! Do we have a schedule for going public?”

 

“Can’t we fucking eat before we talk work? I’ve been in this restaurant five minutes already and there’s no fucking food in sight!”

 

The waiter hiding behind the door to the kitchen heard his cue and entered carrying a 50 inch meat feast pizza. He laid it in front of Shawn and said; “Your appetizer, Sir. Sorry about the wait.”

 

“You will be sorry about my weight if you ever keep me waiting again!” Shawn snarled at him.

 

The waiter retreated to the kitchen to fetch Tom’s equally large pizza. Shawn insisted on eating all 42 slices before the conversation could continue.

 

“We will go public with the bariatric surgery at the Guinness ceremony.”

 

“Oh yes, you are finally being declared the world’s fattest man. Why is that only happening now? You’ve clearly been the fattest ever for ages!”

 

“Honestly? Because I didn’t feel big enough. I still don’t. And anyway timing is everything. I had to be mobile, otherwise it would’ve undermined our argument.”

 

“True. There is no such thing as big enough.” Tom sucked down his 42nd slice of pizza and beckoned the waiter to fetch their mains. He soon returned with two 76 inch pizzas and two bowls of 160 chicken wings. Shawn added five loaves of garlic bread to his order and the old friends once more resumed eating, a few minutes later, between mouthfuls and burps, they picked up their conversation.

 

“Are you sure that bariatric is the right word to describe the surgery?” Tom asked.

 

“Yeah, it refers to surgery that helps people with obesity. That’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

 

“So, it’s safe?”

 

“Perfectly. I know that it took a bit of time to get right, but we haven’t had any ‘incidents’ for the last two years. All of the inner circle, apart from your good self, have had it done, and we’ve rolled it out successfully to the kids. You should see the size of some of the little fuckers! I have to admit that even I get slightly jealous when I see how big some of them are.”

 

“How is Billy?”

 

“At camp, having the time of his life. Even got a boyfriend apparently.”

 

Both giant men paused, lost in their own memories of camp.

 

Shawn finished off his meal and called for dessert, his elephant stomachs and dick hungering for more. Tom had promised him that dessert at Comic Ping Pong was the best in the world. And it proved to be.

 

A pot bellied teeganger, with cropped black hair, and a stomach so bloated that he looked like he was going to burst was placed in the centre of the table.

 

“Your ice cream, Sirs,” the waiter said.

 

“How much is in him?” Shawn asked.

 

“5 gallons, Sir. Free refills available of course.”

 

“Prepare at least four,” Shawn said.

 

“Very good, Sir.”

 

A pipe was placed deep in between the boy's beautiful balloon shaped ass cheeks. It split into two about two feet along so that both Tom and Shawn could drink. They stuck the ends of the pipe in their greedy mouths and began to suck the ice cream out of the moaning boy. They grazed on the smooth cooling fruity flavoured goop for hours while their already full stomachs swelled up and out. Important plans were made and the exhausted boy was drained of cream at least six times over.

 

It was wonderful to be up and about again.

11.

Ben and Clive were grazing on venison steaks at the lakeside buffet. The thick juicy rare cut slices were the perfect aperitif to their post-dinner binge. The 24 hour outdoor buffet had been installed eight years earlier when the children of the inner circle had first reached camping age. It was important to Shawn that his closest allies felt appreciated. The huge circular buffet had been built on the exact site where exactly thirty years earlier he had tried to burn David Dolittle alive at the steak. To commemorate this historical event a giant kebab rotated on a seven foot tall vertical rotisserie in the centre of the buffet. Six chefs worked constantly to keep the cow sized hunk of reconstituted unknown meat at the correct temperature, slicing huge chunks off for every self-satisfied over demanding rich boy who commanded it in order to strain his perfect belly further.

 

Ben and Clive, who had already had their share of kebab, suckled down the venison while their immense bellies tanned in the afternoon sunshine. Ben took a gulp of his 60 oz Mountain Dew and turned to his posh English friend;

 

“Did you hear that Shawn is in Washington?”

 

“Yeah, I did.”

 

“My Dad thinks he is going to run for president.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yep, apparently he is there to finalise the details. An announcement is expected soon.”

 

“Do you think that he might win?”

 

“Absolutely! These public health camps have been a nightmare for the democrats. They’re down twenty six percentage points.”

 

“I don’t really follow American politics.”

 

“What? Politics affects all of our waistlines!”

 

“I guess so. I guess I believe more in personal responsibility. You know, like my waist is my business. It’s up to me to keep it expanding.” Clive explained as he swallowed his 23rd cut of fresh venison paid for by his Dad.

 

“But, that’s the whole point. The democrats are trying to deprive us of that choice.”

 

“What do you think Shawn will do if he wins?”

 

“The first thing, I hope, is that he’ll make gym lessons illegal, then ban vegetables.”

 

Ben’s phone buzzed.

 

“Look here!” he shouted and threw the phone at Clive. It landed in one of the folds between Clive's rolling upper belly and breasts. He fished it out and looked at the screen.”

 

“I don’t understand,” he said.

 

“It’s the Supreme Court, they’ve made their decision on the State of Florida vs the Surplus.”

 

“Is that the thing about all the free burgers?”

 

“Yes, we won!” Ben beamed from flushed fat cheek to flushed fat cheek. He tossed two venison steaks into his mouth in celebration and took another huge gulp of his Mountain Dew.

 

“This means that we can legally eat as much as we want!!” he said, waving his hands at one of the chefs to insinuate that he wanted more kebab.

 

“Surely, we could do that already?” Clive asked.

 

“Well we could, but not everybody. You have to think of the poor. They also need access to unlimited food.”

 

“Sounds like communism,” Clive said, before releasing a giant burp.

 

“Yeah, but the good kind,” Ben responded.

 

“Is Shawn a communist?” Clive asked, adding, “that doesn’t sound very American.”

 

“You really don’t know very much considering your Dad is a professor at Oxford, do you?! Ben said with some irritation.

 

“I never really cared for education and all that stuff. I just want to get fatter.”

 

“That’s all anybody wants. And when Shawn wins that’s what everybody will do!!”

 

“Will there be enough food left for us? I mean if everyone has access to unlimited food, then where is our food going to come from?” Clive looked genuinely worried. He stroked his giant protruding love handles as if to comfort himself.

 

“That’s a good question,” Ben said. “I hope they don’t give it all to the poor.” And with that both boys ordered quadruple portions from the buffet. If Shawn was going to be the great generous leader that they believed him to be then they best eat as much as possible, while they still could.

12.

“Then we are finally in agreement?” Shawn asked.

 

“Yes, and good riddance to you,” the President said.

13.

“Luke! Liam! Get back here! They’re Daddy’s baguettes!” Tim cried.

 

He had been living at the farm for almost four years, but now it was finally time to move out. Luke and Liam waddled slowly through the door and approached their 932 lb father who was resting on a reinforced three seater sofa. He was really hoping, hope against hope, that they would still have the two footlong meatball and beetroot baguettes. They obviously didn’t.

Liam looked coyly at his father and licked the red stains from his lips. The more intelligent of the two, he looked at his brother and noticed his pudgy stained fingers.

 

“It’s your fault,” he whispered to him.

 

“Boys, what have I told you about stealing food?” Tim said.

 

“I don’t know,” Liam said.

 

“I don’t remember, Daddy,” Luke mumbled, eyes looking straight down at his soft expansive ball belly.

 

“When stealing other people’s food it’s important not to get caught,” Tim reminded them calmly.

 

“Sorry Daddy,” Luke said.

 

“We’ll do better next time Dad,” Liam said.

 

“I know you will,” Tim said with pride. “Now boys, you know that we are moving out today. Now that we have all recovered from our operations there’s no need for us to stay here anymore.”

 

“Where are we going to live?” Luke asked.

 

“With Uncle Shawn and Uncle Steve and Henry!” Liam said with excitement. He had forgotten until that moment.

 

“That’s right,” Tim said. “We’re going to Santa Monica for a new adventure.”

 

“But, I like it here,” Luke groaned, disappointment etched all over his fat young face.

 

“I know boys, but we have lived here ever since you were born. It’s time for us to move on. Do you remember what I said about Santa Monica?”

 

Liam thought for a minute before answering, “That there will be more than enough food to fill our new stomachs, and that we’ll be so full that we will look like hot air balloons!!”

 

“YES!!” Luke screamed with joy. “I can’t wait to get to Santa Monica!”

 

“Daddy?” Liam asked with pleading puppy dog eyes. “Can we get ice cream?”

 

“Luke!” Tim said in an admonishing tone. “How many times have I told you not to ask such stupid questions?!”

14.

David Dolittle paced up and down his office. He had just got off a call with Dr Steve Stringer and was not happy. Not only had the Supreme Court found against them but apparently Shawn had been called to the Oval Office. Shawn fucking Stringer in the White House! He couldn’t believe that the president could be so stupid as to give him the platform and credibility! Why the fuck would he do that? After all the interference in the camps with the now near constant food drops, he goes and grants Shawn fucking Stringer a personal meeting! He knew who was going to get the blame for this. He knew he would be blamed for failing to prevent these greedy fat selfish little fucks from gaining. Steve Stringer hadn’t said it directly but it was clear what he was thinking. ‘I’m not taking the fall for this fuck up’. David was the one in charge of the flagship camp. He was the one who had been tasked with designing the camp routines and systems. Afterall he had begged for the responsibility. He had expounded his own virtues and experience in camp management! And they had agreed that he was the best man for the job. He had been set up to fail! They knew full well what had happened at camp all those years ago. How he had barely been in charge for a week before being violently overthrown! And they still made him national manager of the health camp system! What a fool he was! If this had worked out then Steve fucking Stringer would be being given the Presidential Medal of Honor. Now that it was failing, Steve Stringer was running to the hills and throwing him to the fat wolves! “Fucking cunts!” he repeated over and over out loud until his receptionist entered.

 

“Sorry to interrupt you Mr Dolittle, but I have some bad news. Your friend Axel is dead.”

15.

The young orderly sucked his stomach in and held his breath in order to squeeze through the door. He looked around the dark hospital room and waited for his eyes to adjust. Putting a light on was too risky. He plodded up to the bed and looked down at the frail bag of bones. This guys been on a feeding tube for over three years and he’s still fucking emaciated! What is wrong with these fucking people!?

 

With real effort he reached in the back of his gown and produced a quadruple triple whopper with cheese; seemingly out of his ass. He felt his dick twitch as he munched it down. The measly burger barely touched the sides. It was the symbolic significance of eating in this moment that turned him on. He came closer to the bed and blew a strong meaty, pickled breath into the skeleton's face. It didn’t move. “After this I’m going straight back to Burger King,” he whispered, as he hooked his hefty left foot under the cable and tugged the socket out of the wall. “Fuck you, you skinny turncoat piece of shit,” he said, and left.

16.

“You’ve done it again Simpson. You really are a genius!” Steve meant the high acclaim.

 

“The new formula is working a treat,” Henry said. “The gains at Camp Shawn are out of this world!”

 

“Thank you guys, that’s very generous of you, but the solution was actually much simpler than we could have imagined.”

 

“Can you explain it so that I’ll understand?” Henry asked.

 

“Without a doubt. We injected 500mg of ghrelin into every kilogram of food and drink available at the camp. The more they eat the hungrier and hungrier they get. Not a single one of those boys will ever feel satiated so long as they remain there.”

 

“Amazing,” Henry said. “This and the male birth thing. You just keep eating it out of the park!”

 

“So is it ready to be distributed to the general public? Tom and the guys at the National Restaurant Association have been nagging me about this for ages.”

 

Simpson pulled a puzzled look at Steve. He had always thought him to be so intelligent.

 

“Erm, we can’t do that yet. People need to have the operation first. This hormone causes people to literally eat forever. As much as we may want it to, and believe me I do, the human stomach just can’t process that. That’s why we gave the order to ensure that every attendee at Camp Shawn was already fitted with at least one elephant stomach.”

 

Henry and Steve just looked at each other. “Yeah, that’s why we were so careful to do that,” they said in unison.

17.

Ben and Clive were beyond thrilled. It was only the second weigh in of the summer and they had gained over 200 lbs each.

 

“Clive English age 17, starting weight 687 lbs, current weight 899 lbs, a gain of 212 lbs!”

 

“Ben Stranger age 18, starting weight 715 lbs, current weight 932 lbs, a gain of 217 lbs!”

 

Bellies roaring with pride and hunger they retook their places and rehooked their feeding tubes while they watched the rest of the boys being weighed.

 

As proud as they were with their own gains, one boy blew them out of the park. They applauded him loudly without any feelings of bitterness - just increased hunger.

 

“Gavin Gutglut age 14, starting weight 513 lbs, current weight 845 lbs, a gain of 332 lbs, a new camp record!”

 

Wider all around than he was tall, young Gavin smiled widely. He so wanted to be as big as a planet and was well on his way. If only his tummy didn’t hurt so much then he would really have been able to enjoy this moment.

18.

“Oh,” Shawn said. “Is Billy there?”

 

“No,” Henry said. He’s undercover at Camp David.

 

“Well, that’s fine,” Shawn said. “Nothing for us to worry about then.”

19.

Billy and Jason were too exhausted to take part in David’s exercise regime so they just told him to fuck off. Bloated senseless from the third airdrop of the day; Danish fish and chips with remoulade sauce, feta linguine with giant shrimp, beef stroganoff, chicken cordon bleu, black forest gateau, apple pie, and double chocolate oreos, digested loudly in their expanding stomachs.

 

The young lovers had just finished fucking each other’s five foot wide asses. Splayed out on their backs, belly up, they burped and farted with gusto. Billy, still being fed from his secret internal supply, was looking particularly swollen. As another 20 oz of pure calories was automatically pumped into his already dangerously swollen gut he belched so loud that the whole camp heard it. Jason smiled when he heard a small group of fellow fatties cheer from beyond the other side of the woods.

 

“That was amazing, babe,” Jason said, “Look how red your belly is, it’s almost as if I can see it growing!”

 

Billy gazed over his immense boy breasts at the topside of his heaving round mountain of belly fat. A red patch was indeed clearly visible on the left hand side.

 

“Thanks, babe. Imagine what it will be like when we get out of this hell hole and get our new stomachs!”

 

“When do you think that will be?” Jason asked him.

 

“I don’t know for sure as I can’t contact anyone, but my Dad’s said that they thought the health camp system would crumble after only three weeks.”

 

“Then we only have a week left!” Jason said with excitement. “I can’t wait to get out of here so that we can really binge eat again!”

 

“Hopefully so, the plan seems to be going well!” Billy smirked, burped and farted, and patted the red patch on his bulging belly.

 

“If we do, do you think that we will still be able to go to regular camp? It would be great to introduce you to my friends.”

 

“That’s a great idea!” Billy said, “I bet they’re having a whale of a time at Camp Shawn!”

20.

“Dr Stringer! Dr Stringer, there you are! The president is on line one!”

 

“Hello, Mr President, Sir. How can I help you?”

 

“You can resign!”

 

“Erm and why would I do that, Sir?”

 

“Are you a fucking idiot? This whole camp system of yours is a fucking disaster! You told me that it would be the final solution to the youth obesity epidemic, and it’s only made things worse!”

 

“I know that we have had some teething problems, Sir, but ninety nine percent of that is down to Surplus sabotage. If we could just extend the budget a bit to prevent the airdrops then we could…”

 

“You’re not getting another fucking cent from me! I just received the numbers, out of 356,769 camp attendees 286,456 have gained weight! That’s 80%. 80 fucking percent of kids at your weight loss camps are already fucking fatter and it’s only been two weeks!”

 

“But, Sir, if we just…”

 

“Do you know how many have lost weight? Don’t answer that! None! Not a single fucking fat one, not a single fucking fat kid!! I expect your resignation letter on my desk first thing in the morning.”

 

“Yes, Sir.” Steve hung up the phone.

 

“Are you going to quit?” His secretary asked him.

 

“Am I fuck! Get Simon in here!”

21.

Gavin Gutglut, aged 14, 962 lbs, laid himself down on his bed and hooked himself up to his feeding tube. He had really gone to town in the dinner hall. Over 40,000 calories churned in his stomach. He had never felt such pain. At first he had enjoyed the experience, as usual, but now the cramps had gotten so bad and he was too fat to even rub his own stomach to try to ease them. He considered calling for the nurse but the shame of having to admit that he had eaten too much wouldn’t allow him to do it. He groaned loudly as his stomach started to throb and pulsate. Twenty six roast chickens and an equal amount of fillet steak floating in a throthing sea of ice cream, gainer shakes, and melted chocolate pushed out against his stomach lining in a desperate bid to be free. He coughed and sputtered as the reflux filled his feeding tube, but he refused to spit it out. Like a good gainer he did as he was taught and swallowed it back down despite the terrible burning pain from the acid. He took a deep breath of air in through his nose, clearing a path for the pulverised pig fat to once more start pumping down the pipe and into his overflowing stomach bag. It never occurred to him to stop. He needed to be fatter. It was what his father wanted. It was in his DNA. He gazed, teary eyed, as his gigantic belly swelled in front of him. He had never seen it expand so much, so quickly before. He was really killing it this time. As the stomach cramps worsened he attempted to shift his immense weight to try to find a more comfortable position, but he was too heavy to move. His lower intestine burst first and he screamed in agony as shit began to seep slowly out of his asshole. He felt the cold damp on his bedsheets but there was nothing he could do about it. The pulverised pig fat kept pulsating down the tube and into his now continuously expanding stomach. The swelling couldn’t stop. As the pressure built up and up, the chickens and fillet steaks were pushed deeper and deeper down into the pit of creamy acid sauce. The acid was fighting a losing battle. The amount of food inside him was inhuman and it was only increasing. Barely able to keep his eyes open due to the pain he felt his belly expand inch after inch. God, it hurt. But God it would be worth it when the other boys saw him. This happy thought was Gavin’s last. The pressure build up was too much. His anal passage blocked with shit, and his throat full of feeding tube, the gas had nowhere to go. Nowhere but out. His stomach bag ripped open with such force that it crushed his kidneys and ripped his liver out of place. Layers and layers of belly fat tore open in a split second as twenty six partly digested chickens, just as much fillet steak, and an immeasurable amount of ice cream, gainer shake, and melted chocolate coated the walls and ceiling of his cabin along with parts of his digestive tract, stomach lining, and half a ton of lush, smooth, young, brilliantly white adipose.

 

“What the fuck!” One of his hefty cabin mates said as he opened the door after returning from his own succulent dinner.

22.

Indiana Secedes from the Nation!

Brianna Button, LA TIMES Gainer Correspondent.        25th July 2052

 

Today is one of the most historical days in American history. For the first time since 1861 a state has formally left the Union. Secession comes after the Governor, State Legislature, and Surplus leadership signed an agreement with the President; making Indiana the first state ever to secede with the consent of the federal government.

 

According to Surplus sources that state will be self-governed and a new constitution will be signed into law and announced in the coming days. It is yet unknown who will lead Indiana going forward. Surplus leader Shawn Stringer is being touted as being in place to replace the current governor, however, this is uncertain as many in Washington believe that he is priming himself for a run at the presidency.

 

The news was met with wild applause and celebration outside the state legislature in Indianapolis with 85% of the state’s population in favour of the move. For the gainer community this is being seen as a day of freedom and independence, many of whom have fought ferociously against what they see as federal overreach in the battle against obesity.

 

Twenty two year old Bert Bingebaby was one of hundreds of Surplus members cheering on the news outside the courthouse. He said that he planned to celebrate his emancipation by, “consuming at least twenty thousand calories of sugar cream pie,” the state pie of Indiana. I am sure that he will be joined in such celebratory overconsumption by hundreds of thousands of fellow happy hoosiers.

 

For his part the president said that it was a sad day but that it was important to reach a peaceful solution with the Surplus. He stated that; “We have come to a point where our disagreements over public health and personal liberties have hit an impasse. Allowing the Surplus their own state will defend and improve the health of millions of Americans and allow our much divided nation to reunite under the banner of healthy eating.”

 

The question is has he given away too much? It seems that the president is hoping that this may quell the anger currently felt by large sections of the electorate who believe that the administration’s weight loss camp programme has gone too far.

 

And what about the millions of card carrying Surplus members in other states? Will they try to move to Indiana? If so we could witness a mass migration not seen on this continent since the great depression. Or will they, as many think, push for secession in their own states?

 

Florida is definitely one to watch. The Supreme Court recently found in the Surplus’s favour there. Many hungry Floridians will be watching events in Indiana with a keen interest that they only normally reserve for the diner table.

23.

The exploding boy had caused rather a ruckus at Camp Shawn. The dinner hall was full of almost a hundred quizzical and envious voices.

 

“If I die then I want to die like that.”

 

“I mean, I’d heard stories, but I never really thought that it was possible.”

 

“Can you imagine just how full he must have felt?”

 

Ben and Clive were sitting at the end of a busy table at the end of the hall. They too were consumed by the discussion surrounding Gavin Gutglut.

 

“How much do you think he ate?” Clive asked in between large bites of a thick greasy calzone.

 

“The rumour is that he had about 60,000 calories at dinner and then hooked up his feeding tube,” Ben replied through a mouthful of chipolatas.

 

“Do you think you’ve ever eaten that much?” Clive asked his best friend.

 

“Easily,” Ben scoffed.

 

“Then why have you not exploded?” Clive asked innocently.

“I guess I’m made of stronger stuff,” Ben said with pride, thumping his thunderously large belly.

 

“Well if you both can then I can!” Clive declared. “I’m gonna eat at least 60,000 calories this evening, if not 70,000!” He mushed the last of the calzone into his mouth and felt hungrier than ever as he struggled to reach past his belly to grab a second one from his plate.

 

“You don’t think you’re going to out eat me do you?” Ben asked aggressively. “If you’re going to eat 70,000 then I’m gonna do 80,000!”

 

Clive didn’t reply to this challenge due to his mouth being full of a whole calzone. Both boys ate with wild abandonment and an endless hunger. Just like all the other boys in the dinner hall.

 

Their feast was temporarily broken when the camp manager appeared on the stage at the front of the hall. He called for silence. A hundred greedy voices groaned in unison as they put down their forks. What did this dickhead want now?

 

His announcement was met with a wild trumpet of screams, farts, and burps. Two hundred fat fists banged the tables with celebration as they were informed of their emancipation from the United States of America. The camp manager announced that a further 15 courses would be added to the evening's dinner in celebration. Suddenly, Ben and Clive’s boasts about how much they were going to eat didn’t sound so ridiculous.

24.

“What? Where are my boys?” Tim was rightly flustered.

 

“They’ve been taken to Indiana.”

 

“Why? We were supposed to move to Santa Monica tomorrow, orders of Shawn.”

 

“The orders changed. They’re in Indiana and you will remain here at the farm.”

 

“Why?” Tears were running down Tim’s immense cheeks.

 

“You’re to be re-inseminated.”

 

“But I don't want to. I already have two kids. I’ve done my bit. I was promised!” The anger in Tim’s voice was annoying the young guard.

 

“Are you questioning Shawn?” he spat at the behemoth.

 

“No, of course not. It’s just…I want to know what’s going to happen to my boys.”

 

“They’ve been selected by Shawn. He will raise them himself. You should be very proud. It is the highest honor.”

Thick heavy tears flooded out of Tim’s tiny looking eyes. He wanted to die. He knew only too well and at what personal cost such an honor came with.

25.

Due to weight restrictions Shawn, Steve, and Henry were flying in separate private jets. They talked via video link as they made their way to Indiana for the coronation.

 

“When does that ban come into place?” Henry asked.

 

“The day after tomorrow. Once I’m king I will have to give up leadership of the Surplus in the USA. As a foreign national I will no longer be allowed to lead any organisation on American soil.”

 

“And you’re really going to accept that? We could challenge and hold it up in the courts for years?” Steve said.

“This is one agreement I’m going to stick to,” Shawn replied. “I never wanted to be President. The US will ban the Surplus and that’s just fine with me.”

 

“But what about all our members still in the US?” Henry asked.

 

“What about them?” Shawn asked.

 

“They will be granted citizenship of Indiana so long as they meet the requirements,” Steve said, in an effort to appease his brother.

 

“They might rise up?” Henry suggested.

 

“If they do then that will be very welcome, but they will receive no more assistance from me” Shawn said.

 

“And what about Tom?” Henry asked.

 

“He’s going to be arrested,” Shawn said.

 

“Don’t worry Henry,” Steve said, “It’s part of the plan.”

 

“Is Tom aware of this plan?” Henry asked.

 

Shawn and Steve laughed. Henry was so cute when he was being naive.

26.

It was the fifth time in two weeks that Simon had been in Steve Stringer’s office. Since he had been told to resign as head of the department of health Steve had become reclusive. His inaction in not resigning had so far gone unpunished and met with a wall of silence from the White House. Steve took this as a sign of weakness from the president so when the order had come only an hour earlier to release all camp attendees who resided in Indiana he felt equally overconfident in ignoring that. Simon studied him intently, trying desperately to judge his mood and hence the tone of his opening gambit.

 

“This is good news then. The Surplus have finally been banned,” Simon said.

 

“This is not at all good,” Steve Stringer stated.

 

“But Tom Stanton is in custody and the Surplus have given up all their seats in the senate. The health program is now free to continue.”

 

“This is exactly what Shawn wanted and Shawn getting what he wants is never good. His mother spoiled that boy from day one.”

 

“But Steve, we’ve saved millions from the tyranny of weight gain.”

 

“What about the millions in Indiana?” Steve snapped back.

 

“You can’t save everyone. Some people don’t want to be saved.”

 

“I have to stop him, by any means necessary!”

 

“We tried that! And it got Axel killed!” Simon was pleading now. He didn’t understand why Steve couldn’t just let this go and accept the victory that was theirs.

 

“I’m going to go to Indiana.”

 

“Are you insane? He’ll kill you!”

 

“No he won’t. He’s still my boy!”

27.

Ben and Clive were lying on their beds. Their insanely bloated balloon bellies rising up several feet above their heads. They were both sucking on their feeding tubes in spite of the hundred thousand calorie dinners digesting in their stomachs. Two greedy Surplus teenagers so insanely fat and hungry that they barely seemed human.

 

The argument about who would consume the most now irrelevant. Ben drummed his thick sausage fingers across the top of his humongous gut. Despite the layers and layers of soft fat he could feel just how tight and hard his stomach really was. He had never felt pleasure like it. He lay in an almost semi-conscious dreamlike state overcome with a million intoxicating endorphins. He loved how fat he was. He loved how much his stomach ached. He loved that over two hundred animals had been slaughtered in order to get him to this new level of gastronomic bliss. He moved his left hand to his right nipple and slowly started to tweak and massage it. His left breast the size of a basketball felt thick and firm, yet it was still dwarfed by the mountain of fat that was his belly laying just beyond it. He gulped down another mouthful of the ghrelin enriched pulverised pig liver and felt what seemed like someone kicking him from inside of his stomach. The pain pleased him and he took another huge gulp. He dropped his right arm down the side of the bed and adjusted the setting on the feeding machine to full speed. He needed so much more.

 

As his stomach bag continued to stretch and overfill way beyond its capacity he let out the longest and most comforting fart that he had ever done. His inner ass cheeks continued to vibrate for a good two minutes while his asshole let out so much trapped gas that he was transported into such a high state of bliss that he didn’t even notice the loud explosion in the next cabin over. Raised voices outside were very clearly stating that all the campers were to be taken to the ambulances for emergency surgery immediately. Ben didn’t hear them. All his attention was on his heaving gut. It was so much bigger, so much fuller, than he had ever known. He looked at the picture of Shawn on his throne, he looked like a midget. Ben’s belly was the biggest belly ever, it was the best belly ever. He was the fattest, greediest boy that humanity had ever known. He was going to be the one to conquer the world.

 

Simpson barged through the door of cabin six just as the stomach bag ripped itself out of its 800 lb casing. Blood and guts and fat and the half digested contents of a hundred thousand calorie dinner trickled down his fat face and belly. He wiped the human goo out of his eyes and looked down at the giant teenager still sucking happily on his feeding pipe. He walked over to him and placed a large bear-like hand on the top left hand side of the boy's immensely swollen gelatinous stomach.

 

“We need gas now!” he shouted at someone outside. “This one’s too big to move. We’re going to have to operate on him here.”

 

Simpson kicked at the safety switch on the feeding machine and removed the tube from the boy’s gaping mouth. The boy’s giant head slowly turned to look at him. It then cast its eyes over at the other bed and the bloody hollowed out open abdomen and cold grey eyes of its friend.

 

“Is Clive dead?” the boy asked.

28.

Independence Day had come to Indiana. Shawn sat aloft his throne outside the state legislature guarded by five semi-naked, 400 lb, 18 year old male valkyries, while the two men from the Guinness Book of Records weighed and measured him. At 1,200 lbs he was officially declared the fattest man ever and King of the Surplus. His smile beamed as bright as the sun itself over his adoring public.

 

At the feast of his honor he single handedly devoured the last white rhino alive and demanded to be weighed again.

 

He gave no speech and said nothing of his future plans for his kingdom. Not even to his closest advisors.

 

Henry and Steve were with him for most of the day but were called away during the last hour of the party to deal with an uninvited guest. They couldn’t believe that he had the gall to turn up there. They had him arrested and decided not to tell Shawn until the morning. They had no intention of ruining his big day.

29.

Billy and Jason were fuming. As citizens of the new Indiana they had fully expected to be released from camp and rewarded with their new stomachs. Not only had this been denied them but they had also missed out on the Feast of Shawn. Now, to add insult to injury the Surplus air drops had suddenly ceased. Billy, with his internal feeding system had continued to grow but poor Jason had endured two whole days with only the three measly healthy meals provided by the camp. Billy was well aware that events had overtaken his mission to sabotage the camp and that his fathers, believing that he was well due to internal feeding, would make no effort to release him early. He could cope with this, but his love for Jason made it impossible to watch his lover wither away in pain. They would have to act.

 

The knights of the kitchen table: the next generation, gathered that evening. Billy and Jason were joined by four fat friends. There was Troy an ex-400 lb ex-football player, Rupert an ex-380 lb bear in dungarees, Tellison an ex-360 lb ex 13 year old (his birthday was two days earlier), and Tagoshi an ex-500 lb ex-sumo wrestler. Together they hatched a plan so outlandish that it was bound to work, and take down David Dolittle once and for all.

30.

“You tell him.”

 

“No, you tell him!”

 

Steve and Henry were fighting in that way that only brothers can. Neither wanted to be the bearer of bad news. Shawn was all powerful now and even they had learnt to beware his wrath. Neither of them hence had any interest in informing him that his Dad had managed to not only enter Indiana illegally but had also somehow gotten into the feast.

 

“What if we never tell him?” Henry ventured to say.

 

“Never tell him,” Steve echoed.

 

“If we don’t tell him, then what do we do with him?” Henry asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Steve said, “We will have to think of something.”

31.

27th July 2052. Oxford, England. An immensely fat, balding, middle aged professor sits at his desk sobbing loudly. He has just got off the phone.

32.

Stomach growling with hunger Tellison approaches David Dolittle.

 

“Excuse me Sir, but I heard that some of the other boys are planning to have a fight.” He makes for a good snitch.

 

“Which boys?” David asks him.

 

“The Japanese kid, Tagoshi, and the ex-jock Troy. Apparently they got into an argument over who was stronger; sumo wrestlers or football players, and now they’re planning to find out.

 

“And where is this fight supposed to take place?”

 

“Down by the lake, Sir.”

 

“Thank you for telling me, son. Although it sounds like good exercise, we can't have camp attendees fighting. I’ll head straight down there.”

 

David left for the lake and Tellison ran as fast as his chubby legs would carry him to tell the others that the mission was on.

 

Jason and Billy were in their cabin waiting tentatively for the word from Tellison. They sat at a table staring at a small vial of blue liquid.

 

“It can’t really do what you say it does, can it?” Jason asked.

 

“I don’t see why you don’t believe me,” Billy replied. “You accept that the Surplus have invented male pregnancy and that they can transplant elephant organs into humans yet you can’t accept this?”

 

“I know all of those other things to be true,” Jason said.

 

“Do you trust me babe?” Billy asked him.

 

“Of course I do,” Jason replied.

 

“Then believe me now when I tell you that this contains snake DNA.”

 

“Ok, but why would you bring it here with you?”

 

Billy didn’t get a chance to answer as Tellison came bursting through the door screaming that David was on his way to break up the fight. Billy picked up the vial, flipped off the lid, and drank the blue liquid.

 

“Five minutes,” he said.

 

“Five minutes,” Jason nodded back at him.

 

Troy and Tagoshi started fighting as soon as they saw David coming. Not wanting to really hurt each other they slapped and grappled in an effort to make the fight as real as possible.

 

“Oi, cut that out!” David yelled as he got nearer.

 

The boys kept fighting so that when David reached them he felt the need to insert himself into the middle in an effort to break them up. At this moment they both turned and lashed out at him. David was confused and tried to fight back but at only 126 lbs his lightweight frame struggled against the flabby little monsters. Troy hit him with a left hook, knocking him off balance. This allowed Tagoshi to charge in and throw David to the ground sumo style. They both started to kick and hiss at David who squirmed on the floor, lifting his hands to his face. All he could do to try to protect himself.

 

Billy, Jason, and Tellison came thundering over. Tellison and Jason joined in landing blow after blow on David while Billy prepared himself. His giant belly rumbling Billy Buntersson looked at his watch in order to check that five minutes had indeed passed. He looked down at the pathetic bag of bones of a man who had once been his fathers’ arch nemesis. He looked at Jason and smiled.

 

“All yours,” Jason said, as the four boys backed away from David.

 

Billy Bunterson’s ever hungry mouth opened wider than it ever had before as he heaved David’s battered and weary body over his bounding belly. David didn’t taste good but the sensation of swallowing a live animal was new to Billy and he revelled in it. As David’s feet disappeared he felt his belly start to expand as the still living David began to enter his stomach bag. Billy burped loudly and yelled;

 

“Punch me now! On both sides, and don’t let up!”

 

Jason couldn’t bring himself to hit his lover but Troy and Tagashi, both full of adrenaline, had no problem punching Billy as hard as they could. They landed blow after blow in both of his excessively large love handles causing him to wince and cry in pain.

 

“Stop!” Jason yelled, “You’re hurting him!”

 

The boys stopped the beating and Billy grinned. “It’s working,” he said.

 

Billy could feel that both feeding bags had burst open. The hypergloginated pigs liver and E-numbers, or whatever it was, flooded through all of the organs in his digestive system, including his stomach. David Dolittle, still alive but barely breathing, felt the liquid seep into his system. He screamed in pain as his body began to swell. The staple in his stomach burst open and despite the tear his dying body began to fill with fat.

 

Billy cried out orgasmicaly and fell to the floor as his own body began to swell with new fat. The weight of the quickly expanding David in his stomach felt wonderful as his belly swiftly grew to twice its original size. Nine weeks worth of calories, designed to keep an already 700 lb gainer boy growing, filled his and David’s bodies in a matter of seconds. Jason stared in amazement as every inch of his beautiful boyfriend’s body pumped itself full of yet more luscious fat. His feet swelled up with inches of extra padding, as did his ankles, and thighs. Billy’s clothes burst open as they could no longer contain the sheer volume of newly developing fat that engulfed all of him. David finally lost consciousness and died just as he returned to being a 500 lb plus behemoth. Billy felt all of that weight in his belly and threw his begging blue puppy dog eyes at Jason. He had never needed to cum more badly.

 

Jason pulled down his shorts and boxers and threw off his t-shirt. The other boys not wishing to watch left to round up the other detainees and raid the camp kitchens. Jason dug deep into Billy’s expanding fat to find his dick before inserting it as deep into his ass as it would go. He bounced wildly on Billy’s soft crotch, gleefully hanging onto Billy’s amazingly full and expanding blimp sized belly. Neither boy cared that they were murderers, the pleasure was too intense to worry about anything else. All that mattered was fat and sex. That was all that had ever mattered.

 

After several minutes Billy blew his load deep into Jason’s rotund ass. At the point of climax he had swollen into a 1,400 lb ball of teenage fat. Young Billy Buntersson was temporarily the fattest person in the world. Nobody told Shawn that.

33.

18th August 2052. Washington DC, USA. Dr Steve Stringer is immediately arrested by the FBI after disembarking a plane from the free state of Indiana. He is charged with child abuse, obstructing justice, and refusing to carry out the orders of the president.

 

Tom Stanton, 912 lbs, is released the same day in a prisoner exchange.

34.

19th August 2052. New York City, USA. Tom Stanton, 918 lbs, boards a flight to England. He is supposed to be returning to Indiana. He never does.

35.

18th February 2071. Surplus City, Indiana Free State. An extremely old and frail Dr Steve Stringer is thrown violently to the floor by two 450lb naked male valkyries. Every bone in his body aches. He has no strength, he is ready to go.

With the last of his energy he weakly bends his neck just enough to lift his head and catch a glimpse of an enormous underbelly hovering midair above him. It is Shawn Stringer, his one and only son.

 

“Why have you done this?” He splutters feebly.

 

Now well over 2000 lbs the floating underbelly’s voice booms like a god’s.

 

“Because the needs of the one outweigh the needs of the many.” It taunts him.