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AUTHOR'S NOTE (UPDATED JULY '16): I based this story on an animated TV commercial that a few of you might remember in its original incarnation. It was broadcast on ABC (for those of you not in the States, one of the original “Big Three” broadcast networks) on Saturday mornings beginning in the early 1980s as part of that network's “Bod Squad” series of public service messages. The commercial was basically a warning against the consequences of oversnacking. Fortunately, it lives on in various uploadings on YouTube, where it probably has gotten far more views than it ever did in its initial run. And I’m glad that I could do my part to help the meme live on. This story was originally posted in the Weight Room at Dimensions Online and more recently on DeviantArt and Fantasy Feeder (don’t even get me started on the latter). I have recently modified this story...no real substantive changes, but I did replace a few dated references. Please feel free to comment here or message me to let me know what you think! -- TJ (a/k/a Augmentor) Part One Feeling bored and blue, Sarah Weller plunked down in the futon in her studio apartment. Just a few months prior, she had had a great job, a serious boyfriend, and the promise of a wonderful two-week summer road trip with her two best friends. But that was all gone now. Now she was unemployed; the formerly prosperous Internet company for which she had worked had since gone under. Her boyfriend of three years, Paul, had dumped her, offering her only some lame, vague explanation about "needing his space." And Amy and Diana had both cancelled their plans for the long-awaited road trip...which may have been the most bitter disappointment in this series of misfortunes—the anticipation of the trip was one of the few things that helped keep Sarah's mind off of her recent bad luck streak. Sarah still had not found steady work and held out little hope for finding another job that would be anywhere near as good as the one from which she had been laid off. But she had managed to save enough money to tide her over for a while, supplemented by her modest unemployment checks. With no back-up plans, Sarah had nothing but empty hours ahead of her. For the past month, she hadn't done much of anything except putter around her apartment. Mostly she watched TV, as she was doing now. With the remote control in one hand and the other hand twirling a strand of her layered, chin-length, almond-colored hair, Sarah aimlessly flipped through the channels. (She used to chide Paul for doing the same thing; she wondered what he would think if he could see her now.) Sarah sighed dejectedly and restlessly switched positions on the futon. She surfed through old sitcom reruns, talk shows, and nature documentaries, and finally let the channel rest on an informercial for some kitchen gizmo. Her turquoise eyes, usually bright and shiny, were glazed and dull from countless hours of staring at the TV screen. Sarah began to zone out as the host enthusiastically demonstrated the grating, chopping, and blending capabilities of the wonder product. Sarah's drowsy TV haze was interrupted as several shapes appeared in her line of vision. Sarah gasped. Alarmed, she sat up and found herself surrounded by six or seven squat, blobbish clay-colored humanoids. They looked rather harmless—comical, even—and they seemed oddly familiar somehow. She wondered, was it possible for someone to be so depressed that she started hallucinating? Or had she finally gone completely insane? She blinked, rubbed her eyes, and did a triple take...the creatures were still there. But Sarah was neither crazy nor imagining things. The creatures were in fact Munchies, mischievous imps who delighted in making people fat. Sarah was the perfect target. With her boredom and blueness, she was susceptible to overeating, a weakness that the Munchies exploited to the hilt. The Munchies had been doing their work on Sarah for months now. Using their special powers to make her munch when she wasn't even hungry, they had taken full advantage of Sarah's vulnerability. Now Sarah would mindlessly reach for snacks to fill herself up. At first, it was a piece of pie here, a candy bar there. But as Sarah became sadder and lonelier, the Munchies had more frequent opportunities to pile the pounds on her. They were only too happy to accommodate her new gluttony. On trips to the grocery store, Sarah would stock her cart with fattening goodies, scarcely realizing what she was doing. To top it off, Sarah's lifestyle had become almost completely sedentary. She used to work out conscientiously, but her motivation had dwindled, and she had gotten lazy. Her once-toned body had quickly gone soft and flabby. But Sarah barely seemed to notice the change that had come over herself. If Sarah had a job, she would no doubt realize that her work clothes no longer fit her, but she preferred to wear baggy casual clothes for lounging around. Today she was wearing khaki cotton shorts—once several sizes large, now almost snug—and a once-oversized white t-shirt emblazoned with the logo of the gym where she used to work out. The Munchies' modus operandi was always the same. They would appear whenever Sarah was sufficiently bored or feeling down; then they would proceed to stuff her silly. (Lately, that was every day.) She never remembered these incidents. After she had gorged herself into a stupor, Sarah would drift off to sleep. She would wake up flabbergasted by the empty containers and wrappers strewn around her, but she would dismiss her vague recollections of being fed by globular midgets as fragments from some ridiculous dream. At this moment, the Munchies appeared very real to Sarah. She was now staring wordlessly at her unexpected visitors. They wasted no time on niceties. "It's time for you to start munchin'!" said one of the little creatures. "But I'm not even hungry!" Sarah argued. "Here, munch this!" said one of the blobby little creatures, thrusting a large bag of potato chips at Sarah. "B-But I don't want these!" she said. Sarah feebly tried to resist but found her willpower too fragile. No sooner had she spoken than then she found her hand reaching into the bag. She began stuffing chips into her mouth, crunching greedily. "And there, munch that!" said another Munchie, handing her a can of cheddar cheese dip to go with her chips. Sarah popped open the can and scooped up heaping amounts of cheese on each chip. Within minutes, she had polished off the entire bag and was licking the very last dollop of cheddar cheese dip from her finger. "More! More!" said another one of Munchies. He handed Sarah the phone. Before she knew what she was doing, she had placed an order for a large cheese pizza. The Munchie whispered something in her ear. "Better make that two. Extra large. With the works," Sarah told the order taker. "Oh, and can I get a side of bread sticks to go with that? And a two-liter of Pepsi, please." An hour and a half later, Sarah lay on the futon, the empty pizza boxes on the floor beside the half-full Pepsi bottle. She rested her hands on her distended belly, moaning deliriously. The Munchies had watched the entire spectacle with delight, egging Sarah on and applauding with each slice she had devoured. "Dessert?" said one of the little creatures. "Noooooo..." groaned Sarah. "Please...I've had enough...I feel like...like I'm gonna explode..." Her shorts were tight and cutting into her waist. Just as she reached down to unbutton them, one of the Munchies grabbed her hand and began to pull her out of the futon. Then the others quickly gathered around, giggling and chattering, and lifted her up. "Hey! What are you doing?!" Sarah protested. "Where are you taking me?! Put me down!" She struggled briefly, but she felt her body go slack and realized that she was powerless. They carried her to the kitchen, and set her down in front of the refrigerator. Immediately, the little creatures opened the fridge door and began to grab food off of the shelves. One Munchie handed her a piece of chocolate cheesecake, a leftover from an earlier binge a couple of days before. "Too much," mumbled Sarah. "Too..mmmmmmmmmm," she trailed off, her cheeks bulging with cheesecake. "Atta girl!" said the Munchies. "Here, have some of this!" said another Munchie, handing Sarah a spoon and pint of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. "No no no no no no no!" protested Sarah, as she tried to wave them away. But the creature insistently held out the container to her and Sarah relented. "Noooooo...I can't...I can't..." said Sarah, even as she opened the container. "Shhhhhhhhhhh," coaxed the Munchie. "A little ice cream will make everything all better." Sarah helplessly began shoveling spoonfuls of the ice cream into her mouth, despite her overwhelming fullness. But her belly was nearing full capacity, and as Sarah neared the bottom of the container, she swallowed each successive spoonful more slowly and with increasing difficulty. At last, she choked down the last remaining spoonful, and set the empty container and the spoon down on the counter with finality. A little rivulet of melted ice cream dribbled from her lips.

Hey all, Seeing how my last thread seems to have done well, I thought I'd start another in the same vain. This time I want to see stories (or images since this is the general arts broad) of Jocks becoming, well, ex-jocks. Also, this time it doesn't have to be strictly females. You can post dudes too if you want (and if the mods allow). Personally dudes aren't my cup of tea, but you do you, boo. So, with out Further ado, lets get started: The Slowest Champion by riptoryx: http://riptoryx.deviantart.com/art/The-Slowest-Champion-Revisited-COVER-649231801 Rounder and Rounder We Go by snr6424 (special shout out to @jojoabc123 for point this one out thus spurring this idea) : http://snr6424.deviantart.com/art/Rounder-and-Rounder-We-Go-636276780 The Robert F. Kennedy High series by The-Id (pretty sure all the girls in this series were on the water polo team): http://the-id.deviantart.com/gallery/304206/Tara http://the-id.deviantart.com/gallery/304209/Jenna http://the-id.deviantart.com/gallery/4461601/Tina http://the-id.deviantart.com/gallery/304210/Lynn http://the-id.deviantart.com/art/Christy-89194980 http://the-id.deviantart.com/art/Kristin-1-63933925 http://the-id.deviantart.com/art/Nina-64605447 http://the-id.deviantart.com/art/Chelsea-43643583 and, obviously, My Athletic Friend by WeightWatcher/the Observer: http://www.dimensionsmagazine.com/forums/showthread.php?t=33825&highlight=athlete Cheers.