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"Okay, spill the beans." The driver said as the two obese men pulled into the driveway of the sumo training campus. He removed the shades and cap. It was Walter, the whole time. However, Keith's fatass was too distracted by the scent of pizza. "I know what you did. You stole from me!"

Keith ripped a careless fart. "And so what if i did? What are you gonna do about it? I'm clearly much bigger than you now." He grabbed one of his many slick rolls of fat and shook them, the belly in his lap quaking. He moaned before licking pizza sauce off his stubby fingers. "I'm a half ton. You're half me."

He slid off the truck bed, the doors and walls breaking as his mammoth belly pushed against them. He stomped across the ground, the road cracking underneath his feet and went inside the training centre, ripping massive farts carelessly as he walked over. The glass on the headlights of the truck cracked from the powerful wet farts Keith released as he walked into the building, getting lodged in the door.

Walter reached into his duffel bag, grabbing fifteen sachets and ran into the gym. He emptied them into a jug of milk, chugging it down as he slowly ballooned, gut spreading out and sticking out farther. His ass expanded outwards, his mawashi snapping and falling off. His arms became the size of large hams, and he ran up to Keith, thrusting himself into the 1,000-pound blob, who fell backwards, jiggly dough vigorously shaking, the floor cracking and walls rumbling.

Walter burped as he pinned Keith down, moobs still growing and spreading over his face. They were both slick with sweat by now, Walter laying down on Keith as the two large sumos jiggled and rippled. Keith fumbled for something in one of his cavernous rolls. In his meaty paw he held a large canteen and began to chug the contents, immediately growing wider, belly pushing Walter up, moobs slapping the floor on either side of his gargantuan body. Soon enough, both half-ton sumos laid on their backs wheezing from all the exertion, when the door opened. Keith and Walter locked eyes, both of them unable to see who was opening the door due to the huge mounds of flesh perched atop their midsections.

"Oh my God," two voices said in unison. The two blobs on the floor realised them. It was Tyler and Luca, two other sumo wrestlers. Then they began laughing in hushed tones.

- Epilogue -- XWG, slob and lactation ahead!

The two blobs stayed there in that gym for another two years. They would watch matches and groan in approval or disapproval, by now each boy weighing in at a little over ton and a half and squished each other's lard although they were twelve feet apart. They were fully immobile except for their heads, and even then could barely see much or turn their heads far.

The third year, cranes took the two sumos to a custom made facility for testing, the now three-ton blobs being pumped full of the same weight gain shake daily for weeks on end. They had literally become mountains of flesh, fingers poking out from immense slabs of fat. Because of all the shake being pumped into them, their gas production skyrocketed, the two unrecognisable heaps of ever-growing fat farting up to three hundred times a day each. Soon enough, the sweat and gas made the area toxic, forcing the scientists working on them to come into the facility wearing hazmat suits.

Another year passed, and by now, the boys were both over seven tons. Their heads were cushioned by their neck fat, and each of their ass cheeks were miles wide. The facility had to be upgraded to contain them. Although the two blobs were in opposite corners, their bellies fought for space in the centre. The scientists had injected both men with testosterone and hunger formula, making them want to eat more. By now, the fat cells had accumulated to a point where the estrogen in the body caused their giant nipples to leak a milky substance that was thick, sweet and weight gain inducing.

Another year passed and by now, the boys were each over ten tons. The facility cost too much to maintain and upgrade, so the scientists were recalled and the project was abandoned. The boys were unable to move any part of them now, arms swallowed by their fatty arms. Their moobs were still leaking milk that dripped down their bodies, and they were still expelling rancid gases from their asses.

The following year, a 670-pound wrestler at the blobs' old gym collapsed on the floor after being beaten by the same guy again. As he waddled to the kitchen to stuff himself and ignore his anger, he found a mysterious jar with a few sachets of bulking powder.