29-year-old Charlotte T. Harolds stifled a loud yawn as she parked her black Mercedes-Benz into the garage of her small suburban home late that evening. Barking orders and firing incompetent employees all day was a very tiring job, but it was to be expected when you were the CEO of one of the most predominant financial companies in the state. She ran one hand through her long, silky blonde locks as she pulled out the car key with the other. Upon climbing out of the car, Charlotte was able to be seen at her full height of a total 6 feet. She had always been mocked for her tall height back in high school, but now she was able to intimidate nearly every man that worked under her by towering over them.
"Ahh, man..." she mumbled aloud to no one in particular, "Today was rough...Howard better have moved his stuff out of his cubicle by tomorrow, the sniveling little twit...he almost forced me to skip lunch. If I had messed out on my chocolate devil's food cake and fried chicken, I would have rung his little neck!"
She arched her back over as she stretched her arms high, giving emphasis to her fluffy, round E-cup breasts. Suddenly, her slightly puffy belly let out a loud growl. Although Charlotte already had a big dinner (boiled lobster, clam chowder, and a baked potato seeped in gravy sauce) before coming home, she was still feeling rather peckish. Her long, slender legs made great strides across the wide, dusty garage as she headed for the staircase. Five heavy-duty trash bags were propped up against the eastern wall of the garage, all of them stuffed to the brim with empty boxes and food wrappers; Charlotte made sure to put only one bag out for garbage day on every second or third week, so as to keep anyone from getting suspicious regarding her eating habits.
'Hmm...maybe I should finish off that bucket of chocolate-chip ice cream I bought yesterday,' Charlotte pondered as she meticulously climbed the rusty stairs, her stomach gurgling, 'I'll drench the stuff in melted caramel and whip cream, plop down on the couch, put on my favorite DVD of Desperate Housewives, and then just eat and eat until I either throw up or pass out! Yeah...that sounds like a good way to end such a stressful day!'
However, the moment she stepped into the kitchen of her humble little home, she let out a terrific scream. The island table, which sat in the very center of the kitchen, had piles upon piles of dirty dishes and empty containers strewn about its marble surface. The wooden floor was covered with crumbs, wrappers, plastic boxes, large uneaten chunks of food and even the occasional gooey splotch. The wide glass window that overlooked the entire room had been smashed to pieces, and shards of glass had been carelessly tossed into the sink. Never before had Charlotte seen her kitchen in such a horrendous state.
The culprit? A short black-haired girl in a kimono, who was currently digging through Charlotte's gigantic refrigerator in hopes of finding some more goodies. Charlotte could feel tears swelling up in her emerald-green eyes; it was not the fact that a stranger was in her house that upset her, but because all of her delicious, savory food had just been eaten without her even knowing. The very thought of it made her want to weep. It took her a few moments before she could regain her usual stone-cold composure, the sort of composure she always presented at work.
"Who...who the hell are you?!!" she shouted at the top of her lungs.
The girl let out a ridiculously loud gasp, and the half-eaten apple she held in her hands dropped to the floor. She quickly spun around on her feet, her arms pinned to her sides. Her pale-white cheeks were bulging outwards with food, and her midsection was shaped like a basketball, pushing tightly against the confines of her bizarre Eastern-based attire. She looked totally stuffed, and yet still so famished at the same time. Strands of her hair clung to her sweaty, grease-covered face, giving her a wild, almost untamed look. The two women stared at one another in silence for about two minutes.
"Uh...my name is Bushido, and I'm 18 years old! It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," the girl attempted to bow, but her swollen gut made it difficult. Groaning in pain, the girl pressed her back up against the refrigerator to keep her balance. She swallowed whatever food was still left in her mouth, and then groaned again. She gingerly ran her fingers over her taut stomach before letting out a powerful belch. Charlotte was utterly speechless.
"Ugh..." the intruder named Bushido moaned, "Do you - BUUUUURP - do you have any Gas-X or something...?"
Charlotte shoved her hand into the opening of her beige leather purse, and pulled out her cellphone. "I'm calling the cops," she replied coolly. Despite her straight face, she was positively burning up with fury on the inside. She wanted nothing more than to strangle the kimono-wearing girl right then and there for eating all of her food. However, it was a personal policy of hers to never hit a bloated girl.
A soft, airy fart passed out from the crack between Bushido's bubbling butt cheeks. "Oh...oh, no...please don't call the police...please...I'm begging you...please don't...they'll just deport me back to my home country of Northern Japan!! I can't go back there! Not yet...!!" she cried, several more tiny farts rising in the air.
Charlotte paused, her index finger hovering over the button '9'. "...Deport you?" she asked in confusion. This Bushido girl certainly didn't look Asian at all, but Charlotte was never one to be quick to judge. Groaning in pain for a third time, Bushido waddled over to the kitchen table, and took a seat on one of the incredibly large ivory-wood chairs. Charlotte remained standing, as she was still keeping her guard up.
"You see...I am the first female descendant in a long line of powerful, famous samurai warriors who had kept peace and prosperity in the land of the rising sun for many centuries. On the day I was born, I was taken from my parents by the elders of my village, and was forced to train in the ways of the sword. My lifelong master and dear friend, Ojo-sama, ordered me to travel to the United States of America to gain new personal experiences, earn at least 1000 dollars in American money, and to obtain a katana blade of my very own. That is my reason for being here, and I cannot return to my home until I fulfill my master's orders, lest I dishonor my family name and be banished into the freezing mountains for all of eternity..."
True to her precautious nature, Charlotte was not so easily convinced by Bushido's long-winded speech. "Oh, yeah? What kind of 'honorable samurai' goes and breaks into someone else's home and eat all of their food?!"
Bushido pondered on an adequate response while drumming her fingers along the side of her rock-hard belly. "Uh...well...you see, I was dying from starvation when I stumbled upon your home. I saw through the window that you possessed quite a large refrigerator for someone living all alone. I took advantage of this and helped myself to some of your food so that I may continue to live...I am very sorry for such unscrupulous behavior on my part. I will work my hardest to pay you back for everything I have devoured if you would be so kind as to allow me to stay in your guest room for a little while,"
"...Are you daft?! There is no reason whatsoever that I should be willing to allow you to stay here!!" Charlotte bellowed. This entire conversation was taking a turn for the bizarre, although the situation itself had been quite bizarre in the first place. Bushido's eyelids were slowly growing heavier; all of that eating had really worn her out. At the same time, Charlotte was steadily becoming less and less patient with the younger woman. She wasn't even sure why she was wasting her time, listening to this girl's ridiculous life story.
"If you do not allow me to take up residence here, then I may..." Bushido physically winced in pain as her stomach churned its weighty contents around, "I may be forced to reveal to the world your deepest, darkest secret!!"
"I'll tell everyone...that your secret dream is to become morbidly obese!" Bushido threatened, jabbing an accusing finger at Charlotte. The blonde could only gape like a fish in response, a mixture of both horror and surprise plastered on her pale-white face. For a moment, she felt as if the air had been knocked out of her lungs.
"How...how did you find that out?!"
Bushido pulled out a small, black notebook from her pocket. Charlotte gasped; it was her private journal!
"I found this while scrounging about in your desk for some reading material," Bushido continued, "It seems that you have always wished to gain weight since early childhood, but you could not bring yourself to do so because of society's negative view towards the overweight! You constantly eat large amounts of food so your belly can adapt to being able to carry more weight, but you always work off any fat you put on through exercise; you're afraid of losing all of the respect you had worked so hard to earn! That's the truth, isn't it?"
It did not take long for Charlotte to fall to her knees, bursting out into heavy streams of tears. All of her life she had worked so hard to keep her twisted, outrageous dream hidden from the public, but now it was going to be all for naught. She pressed her sweaty palms against the sides of her face; she couldn't handle listening to this any longer.
"Like I said before, I'll tell everyone your secret if you turn me in!" the teenage girl bellowed loudly over the blonde's pitiful sobbing. The intense look in her eyes proved that she was serious. She really was going to do it.
Sighing in defeat, Charlotte pushed herself back to her feet. "...Fine, you little bitch," she spat venomously, "There is no way in hell I could ever let this secret of mine get out, or else I'll die of shame! So...so I guess...I'll allow you to live here for now. With me. Is that what you want...?!!"
Bushido leaned back in her chair, smirking with self-satisfaction.
It would be only a short week later that the 'odd couple' would learn that they had been chosen as contestants for some sort of new reality TV show...