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(Note; This story in heavy sci-fi, slight mythology, in the genre of light romance/tragedy. I've posted it elsewhere, but you'd have a hard time finding it. Still, I like it, so I hope you will too.) A Gift from Grandpa ----- Chapter 1: A Surprise Gift Alan Michaels was trying his hardest to keep from sweating bullets as he finally decided to just go for it, pulling the chair out, before moving to take his own. Fortunately, Elsie didn't seem offended. If anything, she looked pleased as she grabbed the back of the chair in one of her own hands, before moving it out another six inches, and slowly lowering herself into it. Alan was already seated by that point, but he could see that even from where she was sitting, Elsie's stomach had pushed outward, against the edge of the table, and spilled over, to cover a little bit of the table in front of her. She pushed herself back a little more, her whole body seeming to tremble in a single, wave-like motion, before Alan could even think about what to say or do next, so it was fortunate that Elsie spoke first. "Did you work things out with your dad?" The question snapped Alan back out of his daze, and for a moment, he glanced away, but it didn't take him long to reply. "Sort of. We talked about it, but I just don't think he'll ever understand. He's kind of old-fashioned, you know... Came from another country when he was a young man and all that." "Really?" Elsie asked, "Which country?" "Huh?" Alan asked, feeling a little taken aback by that question. The truth was that he didn't think his father had ever told him directly, and he'd never been all that interested in knowing. Still, after living with the man for years, he had enough data to offer an educated guess. "Poland, I think. Like I said, he..." "Oh, yeah." Elsie replied, though at that point, their conversation was interrupted by the waiter, and after taking some drink orders, he vanished into the kitchen, and the two were left alone again. "See, it's just that you always seemed kind of traditional yourself." Elsie admitted, "I was a little surprised to see you and your dad fighting like that." "He never should have said those things." Alan replied, however, starting to feel his anger returning, even as he discussed the topic with Elsie, "Can we talk about something else? How did that paper go, that you were working on?" "I finished it yesterday morning." Elsie just said with something that could almost be called a shrug, though it was really more of a slight shake of her impressive shoulders, "Tell me something, Alan. I've been talking to Jane in accounting, and she says she actually approached you with an extra movie ticket last month, and you didn't even seem interested." Alan decided to return Elsie's gesture, and merely shrugged. "I guess I wasn't." "The thing is; from what I understand, half the men in the middle three floors have crushes on Jane. You don't?" "I don't." "I see." For a moment, Elsie looked a little uncomfortable, but in a couple more seconds, Alan asked, "Is that what you needed to know?" "No." Elsie quickly replied, raising both of her big, thick arms just a bit, "Alan, why did you come here?" Alan blinked a couple times before replying, "Because I asked you to come here with me. It would have been really scummy to do that, then stand you up." "I... I know that. But what I mean is; why are you here... with me?" "Because you said yes." "Alan! Stop dodging the question!" "What? What's the question?" Elsie stopped talking for a moment, and rubbed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger before she made any attempt to continue. "Alan..." she said at last, almost moaning over having to put it so overtly, "What is it... about me in particular... that makes you think it's a good idea to approach me, and ask me out to eat?" Alan had been dreading the approach of that question, but since it had been asked, he did have an answer ready, as he once again braced himself for what was coming. "That's pretty much what you do, right? I mean, you meet a pretty girl, talk to her, get to know her, and eventually you realize that you have enough in common, that... What? What's with that face?" The truth was that Alan knew exactly why Elsie Hill's mouth and eyes had opened all the way just then, but feigned ignorance, and/or foolish optimism was one of the few things he'd never tried, when dealing with someone like Elsie. "Did... Did you just say..." Elsie almost muttered, looking flabbergasted as she spoke, "Did you just call me pretty?" "Yeah." Alan replied, "What's wrong?" "Oh, I should have known. I don't believe this." Elsie almost gasped, staring down at the glass of soda water that the waiter had just delivered, "You're one of those sickos, aren't you?" "Excuse me?" Alan asked, immediately feeling irritable, "What did you just call me?" However, just like that, Elsie had leaned forward, pushing against the table, and slowly lifting herself up off her chair, causing her torso, which had previously seemed to be scrunched up into a thick oblong, to smooth itself out into a large, roundish, coffee-bean-like shape, with occasional rolls all over. Elsie Hill was one of, if not the fattest person working at the office where Alan worked, and it was going to end the same way as always. "I keep thinking to myself, 'this guy must be interested in what I'm doing,' or 'this guy really wants to help me out,' like some child, and I keep ending up in these situations!" Elsie almost shouted, bracing both hands against the table, and almost spilling the drinks, "You're just another one of those weird fetishists, lusting after this lump of a body I have!" Immediately, Alan was on his feet, slamming a few dollars down on the table. He hadn't meant to be so forceful, and he hadn't thought he'd need the cash so soon, but Elsie had reacted much faster than most of the girls he'd tried dating in the past, and much more forcefully. Many girls at least had the courtesy to wait until they were in a less public place, before telling him what they thought of him. He was mortified and furious with her. "That's enough!" Alan actually shouted, "If you didn't want to come here with me, you should have just said no, Elsie!" Then, seething with rage, Alan had dislodged himself from the table, stormed right past Elsie and left by the front door, and he never so much as looked at her, or that restaurant again. ----- Susan Chalmers was furiously typing out the final closing statement of the script she'd been working on, when she heard a knock on her apartment door. Dreading yet another reminder about the rent, she rolled her chair back away from her computer desk and hopped to her feet, strolling slowly to the door, before looking out the peep-hole. Fortunately, it wasn't her landlord, but the person on the other side didn't make her feel much better. It was Alan Michaels, and he was once again alone. Swallowing hard, Susan opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, inviting Alan inside. He looked like the dark clouds over his head were big enough to cause citywide flooding, and he definitely needed some support. "Messy one tonight, huh?" Susan asked, seating Alan down on the left side of her couch. "It always gets messy when they start asking me about my feelings," Alan confessed, "but yeah. Tonight was especially bad." Susan had walked over to her kitchen counter while they'd been talking, and turned her kettle back on. The water was lukewarm at best, but it wouldn't take it long to heat up, and she had a feeling it would be finished before Alan was. "It's like almost all of them have some kind of illness, that makes them act self-destructively." Alan complained desperately, as Susan listened, "If somebody says they hate the way fat women look, they'll get sad, and maybe even angry, but pleasure, joy and delight over their beauty is even worse to them. It's like Stockholm Syndrome or something. They want to defend their tormentors, because they've gotten used to being tormented, so they hate people who only want to do right by them." Susan waited for a couple of seconds before asking, "Did she say that?" "She said I was a sicko for thinking she was pretty." "Ah. Well, it sounds more like self-loathing to me, but self-loathing that's projected outward. I don't know. I'm no psychologist. Man, Alan. You sure know how to pick the weird ones." By that point, steam had started rising from Susan's kettle, so she turned it off and started pouring it into a couple of her cups, as Alan replied from behind her, seeming a little defensive at first. "Wait. Are you saying this is my fault? I'm just trying to find somebody I can actually feel something for. It's not my fault they all turn out to be weird." "Relax, Alan." Susan said, sitting down on the couch next to him, and handing him one of her cups of tea, "You're my best friend. I think I've got more in common with you than with my last boyfriend. If anything, I feel sorry for you. I mean, I've never been married, but I've at least had some long-lasting dating relationships." "No girl's ever dated me for more than a week." Alan reminded her miserably. "It's the weight thing." Susan confirmed, sipping from her tea briefly; a useful technique for keeping her cool, when dealing with emotionally-loaded topics, "I know it, you know it. It's stupid, but it's way more taboo to be fat if you're a girl." "I know *why* it's a problem." Alan replied bitterly, then changed gears entirely as he inhaled the steam from the tea, "What happened to Harold, anyway?" In response, Susan put down her tea, and leaned back against the couch cushions with a deep, audible sigh. "He was something, wasn't he? Like the ultimate dream; tall, strong and round as a pumpkin. Oh, I could have lost my arms in his rolls forever. We dated for a while, but he eventually decided he wasn't happy with a computer geek. I accept fat guys, and they've got to be able to accept me. That's how it works, if it works at all. It's too bad. He was so... so... much." Again, Susan sighed and leaned forward, resting one hand on her best friend's shoulder. "It's too bad neither of us is fat." Susan noted as Alan dared his first sip of the hot liquid, which already seemed to be calming him down, "That soft, overwhelming sensation... Oh! If I had that, even if it was me who was the fat one, I'd never need to go looking for it in anybody else." "Yeah." Alan said as he finished his sip and spent a couple seconds staring at the liquid in his cup, "I guess it's the same for me, but I always fantasized about finding that dream girl, you know..." "Maybe you'll still find her." Susan replied with a slight shrug, "There's girls who can appreciate fatness. I mean, look at me." For some reason, that almost made Alan laugh. He'd never met anyone as obsessed with softness or warmth as Susan Chalmers, and she enjoyed a good meal more than almost anyone he'd ever met, so they'd really hit it off after a while. Still, the fact that both of them needed something that neither one could provide, meant that their friendship could only go so far. "The worst part is having to face dad." Alan admitted at last, after several moments of silence, "He told me I'd regret it if I went out with her, and I got angry at him for it. It was a pretty nasty fight too." Susan seemed to have been just about to say something, but stopped herself after only a moment, and at last, she remarked, "Look, Alan. I don't think your father merits an apology. If you've disrespected him in some way, you can still try to patch things up, but I really have a hard time dealing with that man. He's just so closed-minded, it's infuriating. How did you ever put up with him for twenty years?" For some reason, those remarks had made Alan feel a little better, and although he didn't want any rift between himself and his father to be his fault, and he probably would eventually apologize for his part in their fight, it was equally clear what he needed to do next. ----- "Dad." It took a few seconds before Hugo Michaels seemed to realize that someone was talking to him, but once he recognized that fact, it was only a second before he'd turned to face his son, who was standing nearby, with his phone in one hand. Quickly, Hugo set a bookmark in the magazine he'd been reading, and put it off to one side, looking up at his son, who, he was a bit gratified to see, had a slightly sheepish expression on his face. "Yes?" Hugo asked, "You wanted to talk about something?" "I've made a decision." Alan said a bit shyly as he held up the phone, revealing the information displayed across its surface, "This is where I'm going to live. Starting tomorrow." For a moment, Hugo just blinked, not sure of how to respond, or what to say. He looked over the little, one-bedroom apartment that Hugo was pointing to, and the statistics on the page, and it did look functional for just one person; even cheap compared to the going rate for apartments. Still, Hugo was concerned. "Of course, if you start living there, you'll be paying them a lot more than you pay us. You won't be able to save up as much money." "I got a raise a few days ago," Alan replied with a shrug, "I can afford it, and I can do extra work on the side. Cathy gave me forty bucks for fixing her computer, and another five for getting her son's toy working again. It's not much, but it all adds up." "But what's the advantage?" Hugo asked, starting to feel genuinely worried, "Do you really think this is a good idea in the long term?" Alan had known that question was coming, but he'd still hoped not to have to answer it, because the only answer he could give would be easy to misinterpret. "Dad..." He said, "I want to do something to fix our relationship, and I think this might be the only way." Hugo looked bewildered for a moment, but his only response was "Oh." "We get into a lot of arguments when we're too close to one another for too long." Alan explained, "I notice, whenever I'm busy with work, and we only see each other for a few minutes a day, we usually don't... you know... bicker." "There's no need for bickering at all, or even arguing." Hugo said, starting to feel very tense, "I just want what's best for you, Alan. You're my son, and I don't want us to drift apart." For the first time since the discussion had begun, Alan actually smiled just a little, but he couldn't back down anymore. "You're my dad, and I don't want that to happen either," he said, "but the truth is, I just don't want the same things for my life that you want for yours. Now that I'm an adult, I have to be free to make my own choices, and... That means that if this is going to work, there needs to be some distance." For a moment, it actually looked as though Hugo would let it go at that, but then he turned, to see his wife and Alan's mother, standing in the bedroom doorway, looking worried, and mouthing a word that reminded him of exactly what would happen if Alan moved away. Yet, how could he prevent it? Hugo knew he couldn't keep his son prisoner. It was unthinkable, but the only things he still hadn't tried, apart from that were intimidation and mockery. He didn't want to resort to those if it could be helped, because they could only damage his relationship with his son, and yet, if there was even a chance of keeping his son from leaving... "Heaven help me." Hugo thought to himself silently as he gathered his courage. "She dumped you, didn't she?" At that moment, the color drained from Alan's face. "Wh-What?" "I told you she wasn't right for you, and I was expecting this to happen. You've never noticed the warning signs. You always wait for them to dump you first, Alan. Quite frankly, I don't think you should leave, because I don't think you know how to make those kinds of decisions responsibly yet." However, the speech was empty, and Hugo knew it, as soon as he saw the look on his son's face. Once the initial shock had faded, his look hadn't been one of anger or disgust, but a sort of passive look, tinged with something more like sadness. Without another word to either of his parents, Alan had turned and left the living room, and when he left their house on the following day, a brief "goodbye" was all he said then. ----- After the move, it had taken Alan a couple of days to get everything ironed out and set all of his things up in his new apartment, but his first objective had been his laptop, and the tools that he used for fixing things. Alan had always been the sort of person who took the time to plan out what he was going to do next, which was just as well. None of his relationships would have lasted as long as they had, if not for that aspect of his personality. In fact, Alan had been so busy setting things up, that he didn't even bother trying to check his mail until it was dusk on his second day in the apartment. Not many people had sent letters, of course, though there was an advertisement for a credit card, and some gym membership flier with those horrible "before" and "after" pictures that always made him nauseous. "I know people are losing weight." Alan thought silently, as he threw the flier in the garbage, "Don't remind me." However, there was one curious thing in Alan's mail; a small package, which had a local restaurant called "Pearl's Sweet Bites," as its return address. It wasn't too uncommon for restaurants to send out fliers or even coupons, but that was the first time that Alan had ever heard of them sending out boxes of goods before; much less in the mail. Alan went and got his knife to cut open the box and look at what had been sent to him, but as he pulled open the cardboard edges, the contents of the box merely filled him with confusion and curiosity. He'd been expecting the box to contain some explanation of why it had been sent to him, but instead, all it had left him with was another, deeper mystery. The box contained no receipt, no letter, no fliers, or papers of any kind to provide information. The only thing in the box was a single, transparent globe, about the size of a baseball. It was perfectly-round and smooth all across its surface, like an orb of colored glass, because although he could see directly through it, the orb was tinted blue. For a few moments, Alan just looked at the little ball with boundless confusion, but at last, with a smile, he picked it up and held it in his left hand, feeling its smooth surface; very much like glass or crystal. However, it was so smooth, that for a moment, he lost his grip on the ball, and it fell to the floor. Alan had expected the ball to shatter the moment it hit the ground, but, in fact, when it collided with the hardwood of his apartment's floor, not much seemed to have happened to it. Quickly, he picked it up, and on impulse. decided to try dropping it again. Sure enough, there was no damage to the globe. Feeling even more curious, Alan decided to try testing the strength of the little globe, throwing it hard at the floor, and once again, there wasn't even a single crack when he picked it up again. Finally, he set the globe on a pillow, and put the pillow on the floor, then grabbed the largest and heaviest of his hammers and swung with all his might. Alan felt the hammer make contact, but only just barely. It almost felt as if his attack had lost all of its force, a split-second before hitting the orb. However it had happened, Alan soon found himself laying the hammer down, right next to the blue orb of some crystal-like substance, which it had utterly failed to harm. It was certainly enough to make him even more curious, but sadly, the imperviousness of his gift didn't provide him with any more clues, or tips on how to solve the new mystery that he'd been presented with. In fact, there was only one clue, which Alan felt that he could follow. Once again, Alan picked up the box that the globe had come in, and looked at the return address, pulling out his phone to look it up. ----- Alan had been to Pearl's Sweet Bites once before on one of his earliest and shortest dates, and it didn't seem to have changed much since then, except, of course, that the customers were different. The waiters and waitresses still wore bright colors as they served tables, though there was a bit of a morose air about the whole place, as if it had just suffered the death of a beloved leader. However, as Alan scanned the visible sections of the restaurant, he promised himself that he would have to return some other time. While most of the people eating and waiting tables weren't surprising, there was one older man, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket, and sitting at one of the middle tables. He had pure white hair with no gray at all, and a long beard, and he had to weigh at least four hundred pounds. For some reason, Alan found him comforting to be around. However, the middle-aged woman behind the front counter was no less impressive. Though her hair was beginning to gray a bit, and she had a wrinkle or two, she was easily as wide standing up, as the older man was sitting down. She also smiled in a very determined way as Alan entered, as if forcing herself to, which only made him more curious about her, so pretty soon, he'd approached the front counter, watching in amazement as she leaned over it to face him, making her look even wider. "Good evening." the very wide lady said in a very good approximation of a chipper tone of voice, "What can I get you tonight?" However, her smile instantly faltered, when Alan held up the globe that he'd gotten in the mail, and said, "Miss... Lilly?" Her first name was, of course, on her name tag, so Alan continued, "I actually just got this globe in the mail, and it apparently came from here." However, it had soon become apparent that Lilly's features hadn't fallen because of disappointment or sadness, but only in surprise, because suddenly, her smile had returned; more genuine-looking that time, before she mellowed out a bit, her expression changing to a slight grin. "Um... It's Mrs., actually." Lilly said, holding up one hand to show Alan her wedding ring, and briefly causing his heart to sink, "Man, I'm happy for you, though. Peter must have sent that. Hey, Peter!" At once, Alan turned around, to see the fat, older man in the leather jacket raise one hand with a friendly smile. Thanking Lilly for her help, Alan moved over to where the old man was sitting and sat at the same table, opposite him. Fortunately, he looked pleased by that, though his expression started turning a little grim as he leaned on the table with both elbows and spoke to Alan directly for the first time. His voice was deep and strong. "It's good to meet you, Alan. I was starting to worry that you might never come." However, Alan was already feeling very confused, and in a moment, he'd started asking questions. "Alright." he said, "First of all, I only got your package today." "Well, yes. The most recent one." Peter replied, but at once, Alan shook his head and Peter's mouth began to hang open, stretching out his thick and pleasant cheeks. "Wait." Peter said, starting to look very grave, "Are you telling me that until today, you never received any other packages from me?" "Never. Not one." At once, Alan almost jumped in alarm, because a look of fiery anger had spread across Peter's face, and he'd brought his right fist down on the table with a crash. The anger had soon faded from his expression, and he became a great deal calmer after that, but a lasting change had definitely come over him, because he wasn't smiling anymore. At last, with a heavy sigh, he leaned back in his seat and turned to look out the window. "I can barely even tell you how furious I am," Peter muttered at last, "but not with you. Of course not. None of this is your fault. The problem, Alan, is that I'm not sure who to be furious with. Perhaps Claire, perhaps Hugo... Maybe just myself, for not checking up on you in person, when I noticed that you never replied to my messages." "Um... I'm still a little lost here." Alan admitted, "Should I know you?" "Yes!" Peter almost roared for a moment, though he calmed down quickly, "Yes, you should. That was taken from you, and now all I can do is try to make up for lost time. You see, Alan... Just a moment. This is a very public venue for discussing matters of a personal nature." "No, it's alright." Alan replied, just feeling more and more curious, "Go ahead." "I'm your grandfather, Alan." Peter replied at last, "I was the father of that poor man Hugo Michaels; your dad."

Here is a link to the beginning of my additions to the Bearchive Addventure: http://bearchive.com/~addventure/game1/docs/1033/1033795.html My author name over there is Wolfie7828. I would appreciate any feedback. My entries contain BBWs, weight gain and some sexual content. I welcome anyone else continuing the story. I don't have the time or desire to feel in all the possible chains myself.

Intro This is another story with a basis in nostalgia. The central idea comes from an episode of the short-lived Sid & Marty Krofft TV series The Lost Saucer—not to be confused with another and far better-known Krofft show, Land of the Lost, which drew its thinly veiled inspiration from Jules Verne's Journey to the Centre of the Earth, and which was rebooted as a TV series in the early '90s, and later got the big-screen "reimagining" treatment as a Will Ferrell vehicle in 2009. But The Lost Saucer stayed...well, lost. As with all the Krofft series—and there were at least a couple dozen of 'em!—The Lost Saucer obviously was produced on a shoestring budget and probably was doomed to obscurity from the get-go. Would you expect anything less of a kids' show starring Ruth Buzzi and Jim Nabors (who was basically playing Gomer Pyle as an android)? The simple premise of the show (revealed in the opening credits) is that a kid named Jerry and his babysitter Alice make the fateful decision to investigate a U.F.O. that lands in the backyard. The U.F.O.—a time-traveling flying saucer, no less!—is piloted by two friendly androids, Fi and Fum (Buzzi and Nabors, respectively), who have an alien pet called the Dorse (because it's part dog and part horse). The androids usher the kids inside the craft, demonstrate some of their far-out futuristic technology, and whoops, go figure, there's some kind of malfunction. The saucer takes off with the kids on board, and they're all whisked off into outer space. The series follows the gang as they wander aimlessly from future year to future year while Fi and Fum try their best to return the kids to their proper time and place on Earth. Anyway, there was one episode called "Fat Is Beautiful," in which the saucer lands near a futuristic city called Fatropolis, where everyone is fat. In fact, being thin is illegal there. So the Mayor of Fatropolis tells the kids that they have to eat until they each weigh 500 pounds, but not to worry, a handy-dandy food-making computer will whip up whatever they desire. I distinctly remember the kids sitting at a table with sundaes (or something) in front of them. The younger kid Jerry says something like, "If he thinks we're going to eat all this food...he's dynamite right!" His babysitter Alice smiles and nods, and they dig in. I only saw that episode once, in re-runs. I think it's a relic that's well and truly lost forever. There was a reissue of a few episodes of the show on VHS years ago, but I don't think "Fat Is Beautiful" was included. The episode evidently was posted on YouTube a couple of years ago, but it was removed due to copyright infringement. I only found the dead-end video after it had been taken down, so I never actually got to see the episode again. In any case, I remember that the episode was pretty disappointing, to say the least. I'm not sure whether there even was any depiction of weight gain. The actor who played the Mayor was heavyset, but that's about it. I think the extras just had pillows stuffed underneath their costumes. And at the end of the episode, something happens to wreck the Mayor's plans. As I recall, the Mayor had been feuding with his polar-opposite brother (who was fit), but by the end of the episode, the two siblings finally resolve their differences. So the Mayor decrees "Stout is out, and thin is in!" And he's shown jogging around while holding a tennis racquet or something to that effect. I promise there will be none of that in my story! In fact, I'm going to jettison pretty much everything except for the core idea and the setting. And I'm giving it a bit of the Barbarella treatment, with dashes of Heavy Metal ambience (the illustrated magazine, that is—although this story isn't illustrated) and other retro-futuristic sci-fi touches. I don't consider this story pure science-fiction by any stretch of the imagination, and neither should you. It's WG fiction against a space backdrop. After I first started working on this story a few years ago, I discovered that an author named Tracey L. Thompson wrote a book called Fatropolis: A Novel, which I haven't read, except for snippets of whatever excerpts are available on Amazon, but I'm 90% sure her book also liberally borrowed from this episode of The Lost Saucer and was similarly re-purposed (although hers seems to be more of a BBW/FA storyline, while mine is decidedly WG-oriented). I find it endlessly fascinating, though, that what was obviously designed to be silly disposable entertainment managed to leave an unexpectedly huge and unintended impression on certain members of its target audience. As stated in the title, this story is currently in a rough-draft form, so please check back as I add new content and modify existing content.