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(NOTICE: Contains male weight gain, mildly mature content.)

Anthony walked into his house and shut the front door.

“Anyone home?” He called out from force of habit. There was no reply, nor would there be as his parents were both out of town for the week on business trips. Still, the silence was reassuring considering the nefarious nature of the plot he was going to engineer later in the day.

Dropping his backpack off by the stairs he strolled into the kitchen and poured himself a drink of water. He was grateful for the cool January weather and that his house was only a leisurely 7 minute walk from the school, but he was still a little worn out. Scratch that, while his house was only a 7-minute walk for an average individual, it took him about 20 to get there at his massive weight of 445 pounds. As much as he was loving being huge, he had to admit that there were some drawbacks and mobility was definitely one of them.

Having regained his composure, Anthony set the empty glass down and thought of his next move. Ricky and Joe would pay for harassing his friend Mike, and for being obnoxious assholes in general, and the instrument of their righteous comeuppance would be the very same article that led Mike and Anthony to be transformed from average American adolescents to heavyweight high school seniors. There was a poetic justice to it, he thought.

Anthony lumbered upstairs to his room. He walked over to his computer table and retrieved a key from underneath the desk pad. Next, he walked into his closet and from it’s hiding place in the back shelf behind his clothes, Anthony retrieved his miniature safe box. He opened the lock to reveal the contents: his passport, a couple of rare, first edition comics he’d acquired, a few other important items, and, most importantly, the book.

Returning to the kitchen, book in hand, he thumbed through the first several pages and found the Protection Charm. He read the summary listed below the title in small font and confirmed that this indeed would protect the holder from becoming a victim of the book’s enchantment. He recited the nonsensical, long-forgotten words and then was overcome by a warm feeling followed by sense of peace and refreshment.

“That must’ve done it.” He said.

He then turned his attention to the clock; Mike, Ricky, and Joe would be here in little more than an hour. That was nowhere near enough time to bake the amount of food that had caused Mike, Peter, and himself to grow. The Ars Gastronomé spell in chapter 4 would cause food to become radically more tasty, nourishing, and fattening than normal, but it only worked item by item. This called for the spell Anthony had read about in chapter 7, the Armāta Culinarāta spell.

Standing before the cooking area, Anthony spoke the words in the book phonetically while waving his arms the way the drawings in the corner of the page illustrated. For a moment, nothing happened and Anthony was about to try again when the refrigerator, cabinet, oven, and other appliances glowed green for a moment.

Then everything began to move; bowls, measuring cups, spoons, and other cooking paraphernalia came flying out of the cabinets and drawers while ingredients drifted out of the refrigerator and pantry as the oven turned itself on. Like a scene out of a Disney movie, all of the objects danced around the kitchen: eggs cracked themselves against the rim of a mixing bowl as flour, sugar, and baking powder sifted in from their containers. A bag of chocolate chips opened themselves and dove in succession into the mixture with the choreography of a Busby Berkeley synchronized swimming number followed by a somersaulting stick of butter.

As the other foodstuffs were added, a whisk mixed the concoction together until it was fluffy and even, then the bowl emptied out perfectly round dollops onto a pair of cookie trays that flew into the awaiting oven. While the chocolate chip cookies baked, the utensils passed through an assembly line at the sink being scrubbed, washed, and dried in rapid succession.

Then the process repeated itself. The fridge and pantry opened, both looking just as stocked as before, and this time other ingredients came out. Something new was being made. While this happened, the oven dinged and the cookies came out and landed on a large platter from the cupboard. They had only been in the oven for about 3 minutes, yet they were cooked through to a perfect golden brown. Anthony tried one of them and sure enough, it was a delicious, evenly-prepared cookie, but he new how to make them even better.

Setting two other cookies on a separate plate aside in the living room, Anthony returned to the magic cooking brigade going on in the kitchen and recited the Ars Gastronomé spell.

* * * *

“Speed it up Tubs, I’m getting hungry.” Ricky barked.

Mike was only two steps behind him and keeping pace, but it made no difference. Ricky and Joe weren’t known for the logic or cleverness of their insults, with them it was quantity over quality.

“Go easy Ricky.” Joe chimed in. “This trip from the bus stop has to be like a long-distance walk a for a guy his size. Must be a real strain.”

The three of them had walked 20 of the 30 yards from the bus stop to Anthony’s house. Mike wasn’t even breathing heavy. He was slightly red in the face, not from the cold, but from the rage he was feeling at these two braying jackasses.

“Speaking of strain, you see how the bus rose up after he stepped off?” Ricky and Joe laughed out loud together.

That was it, any regrets or second thoughts Mike might have had long since gone. It had been like this the ENTIRE ride.

“And here we are!” Mike said with a smile and chipper voice masking any hint of his deep annoyance. The three of them walked in though the unlocked door. The house was warm and smelled sweetly of baked goods. Anthony must be ready, Mike thought to himself. He set his backpack down near Anthony’s at the foot of the stairs. Ricky and Joe followed suit.

“Smells good in here.”

That was probably the only nice thing Mike had ever heard him say.

“Yeah, it’s like a bakery in here,” said Joe. Ricky took off his jacket and Joe dropped his hoody by his backpack. Ricky was wearing his letterman jacket over a wifebeater and jeans while Joe had on a striped polo and khaki shorts. Both of them already had tans despite the fact it was late January. God these guys are tools. They headed into the living room

“Who’s backpack was that by the stairs?” Ricky asked.

“Oh that was Anthony’s, this is his place.”

“That you, Mike?” Anthony called as he lumbered into the living room.

Ricky and Joe’s eyes went wide, not from being startled, but clearly by Anthony’s physique.

“Jeez, he’s even bigger than you. I guess all you fatties know each other.” Ricky said taking in Anthony’s size.

“Yep, sure do.” Anthony said jovially, thumping his big belly for emphasis,” After all, we know where the best food is.”

He went over to a side table and picked up a small plate of cookies.

“Speaking of, y’all must be hungry,” he picked one off the plate. “Here you go Mike.”

Mike briefly glanced down at the cookie, then back at Anthony, who nodded once, almost imperceptibly.

“Okay sure.” Mike said accepting the chocolate chip treat. Mike then grabbed one off the plate and quickly put it in his mouth.

“You guys want one?” he asked while chewing. Mike began to eat his cookie too. It was good, but tasted perfectly ordinary.

Ricky and then Joe stepped forward and grabbed the remaining two cookies off the plate. They took their first bites and their eyes went wide. Mike realized immediately what Anthony had done.

“This is good.” Ricky said between mouthfuls.

“Yeah, really good,” Joe said scarfing his cookie down. They all finished their snack quickly.

“Delicious,” Ricky said, ”you got more, right?”

“Unless they finished them off already” Joe joked.

“Nope, not yet,” Anthony smiled, “there’s plenty more in the kitchen if you’d like.”

He gestured to the doorway he’d entered from and the jocks walked on following the rich scent of food. Mike noticed they seemed slightly annoyed that Anthony was staying so cool and taking the insults they kept hurling in stride. Mike and Anthony lingered for a moment.

“No going back now,” Anthony said in a whisper.

“Time to enjoy the show,” Mike nodded.

Joe and Ricky turned the corner and found themselves in the kitchen and were taken aback by what they saw. The large table and all of the countertops and the center island were covered in serving plates, bowls, and casserole dishes all full of desserts; in fact, it was pretty much all of the crockery in Anthony’s house.

“W-what is this?” Ricky said as he and Joe looked out over the ridiculous spectacle before them.

“Just an afterschool snack.” Mike said as he and Anthony followed them in, “Big guys like us have big appetites.”

“Help yourselves to anything you’d like,” Anthony said joining in Mike’s confidence. “Just be careful or you’ll wind up fat as us.”

This got Ricky and Joe’s attention and they turned around.

“As fat as you?” Ricky balked.

“Fat chance,” Joe said clearly impressed with his own word play.

“Listen Pillsbury,” Ricky said poking Mike in the stomach, “There’s something different between guys like us and fatsos like you two.”

“Like how we can see our feet when we look down,” Joe added still grinning with his satisfaction from his previous contribution.

“That, and a little thing called ‘restraint.’ You see, I can actually eat one chip and be done, and even if I decide I want more, I’ve got the discipline to go work it off at the gym after.”

Mike and Anthony just smiled pleasantly throughout this. Ricky and Joe turned back towards the food.

“So we’ll take our fill and leave you to finish off the rest.”

Ricky went over to the counter and grabbed a small plate and started to fill it up buffet style. Joe meanwhile took a seat at the table, cut himself a piece of pie, and began to dig in. Ricky was still filling his plate with a small sample of everything (a cookie, a donut, a brownie) when the aroma of all food started to get to him. It smells so good, he thought. He picked up a chocolate peanut butter cup and instead of putting it on the tray he put it into his mouth. He almost moaned at how good it was, just as insanely delicious as the cookie he tried was. These fat guys sure could cook, he thought. He grabbed another item to put on the plate, but this too found its way straight into his mouth, so did the next one, and the next one…

Joe had finished his slice of pie and reached for a cookie from the nearby plate. Everything tasted even better than it smelled. As he munched away at the cookie, he cut himself a slice from the small cake in front of him, then pulled the bowl of pudding closer by so he could reach it easier. It was all so good. Somewhere back in his brain a thought rang out that he wasn’t feeling full, rather, he was feeling tingly… feeling warm. But none of that really registered, all he was focused on was the food in front of him and the rich, amazing taste of it all.

Ricky had long since stopped carrying the plate, although he had eaten everything off that plate before returning to graze from the dishes around the countertops moving around slightly as something new came into view. Lemon tarts, blondies, chocolate cupcakes, macarons, fudge squares! It was all so amazing, like his taste buds were awoken for the first time in his life! Ricky had just finished a sticky bun when suddenly he felt a rumbling in his stomach, then a surge of pressure.

*BRAAAAP* Ricky let out a tremendous belch. Was it getting warm in here, he thought? He pulled the zipper down more on his letterman jacket. As he separated the slider from the teeth at the bottom and fully opened his garment, he paused for a moment to look at his abdomen. It was looking kinda full, really full actually.

“I’m just a little bloated.” He thought uneasily. “I’ll take care of it at the gym.”

“Still,” he thought to himself, “maybe I should st- Oh my God, are those Nutella-stuffed churros?!”

* * * *

“Well that escalated quickly.”

“Yeah, so much for restraint.”

Mike and Anthony were speaking in hushed tones, although they didn’t really have to whisper. Not only were they several feet away as they stood by the doorway watching Ricky and Joe, the two diners were making entirely to much noise. The kitchen was full of the sound of chew, sip, munch, swallow, burp, gobble, slurp, belch, gurgle, rumble, and even if it wasn’t, even if Mike and Anthony were speaking right behind either of the busy eaters, it’s doubtful they would have noticed as their attention was diverted. In fact, Rick and Joey were so focused that they hadn’t even noticed the changes that were happening.

“It’s interesting,” Mike thought, “to be looking at the process as a spectator instead of as a participant.”

It had probably been about 10 minutes since the whole thing started, and while the cruel jocks had only just put a dent into the whole supply of food, what they had eaten was beginning to show on their frames. Slightly bloated bellies had expanded into actual rounding paunches, defined chins became less so as necks began to swell, perfect pecs started to soften and perk out, and, at least in the case of Ricky who currently had his back to the boys, butts began to billow slightly against pants fabric. They were both were well over the 200 pound mark by now.

While Mike was marveling at the process from a point of familiarity, Anthony was in quiet rapture. Seeing these guys inflate before him, it was once again like living a scene from one of the gainer fictions he read on DeviantArt or Writing.com. His soldier had snapped to full attention as the changes became noticeable. He was grateful his belly hid his groin from view. He silently wished he had set up his video camera and iPhone on the shelves on the walls to record this; imagine what gainers would pay to actually see this happen? Fortunately, he was able to maintain his composure.

* * * *

More time passed.

Ricky was munching on a donut. The sugary, cinnamony morsel caused his taste buds to somersault with delight. He took his second bite from it with a mighty chomp, but this caused the remainder to break off. Ricky’s eyes widened with concern as it fell, but it bounced off and landed safely on the granite countertop in front of him.

“That’s kind of weird.” Ricky thought internally. He was glad the delicious treat hadn’t landed on the floor and been spoiled, but the odd 90° angle trajectory caught him off guard. He looked downward. Why did it feel like something was in his way as he tilted his head lower?

There was something pink in front of him, no fleshy. It took him about 3 whole seconds to realize it was his belly. Scratch that, his gut. Muffin-topping over his jeans and shaping into a large sphere, his once washboard abdomen now resembled a large scoop of ice cream atop a cone. Ricky blinked repeatedly, staring down at the blob of fat he hadn't noticed before.

“How long had it been there?! Where did it come from?” He thought awestruck.

His wifebeater, covered in crumbs and streaks of chocolate, was pushed up high above his gut, he hesitantly reached down and gripped the squishy, globular mound, then froze to see that his fingers had become thick like sausages. He held his hands up and realized they too were padded and so were his arms. He felt a tingling sensation and for the first time noticed his body seemed to almost swell for a moment, inflating with something from the inside. He held his breath, wincing as his clothes suddenly seemed too painfully tight for him.

With an audible creak and then a mighty pop, his button flew off his pants and his zipper shot downward. Seeing the button land on the floor, Ricky backed up in panic until he retreated into the island cabinet. As he did, he felt the cushion of his expanded rear end. His hands shot back and he felt his previously narrow, taut buttocks had now become two massive melons. Both hands failed to fully grasp each cheek.

“J-Joe, I–” He didn’t finish his comment though, for as he turned around to see his right-hand man, he was shocked to see Joe was as fat and bloated as he was. At that moment, he was literally burying his face into a pie tin as using utensils or his hands was proving to inefficient a method to satisfy his greedy craving for more delicious food.

“JOE!” Ricky cried out. This got Joe’s attention and he turned to see his fattened friend, his chubby, frosting-stained cheeks and chins jiggling slightly in the process. His eyes went wide upon seeing the former jock.

“Ricky… what the hell happened!? You look so fat!”

Ricky was incredulous for a moment, “Look at yourself, shit-for-brains!”

“Whaddya—?” He looked down and let out a low cry of horror, gaping at his enlarged belly that was pinned between the seat of his lap and the table and the budding pair of moobs that were barely contained by his pushed up polo, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!”

With a mighty shove, he pushed himself away from the table, his chair falling backwards. He stumbled awkwardly into a standing position as his belt snapped and broke free along with his shorts button as a result of the pressure from the sudden action as well as his expanding waistline. He glanced all around at his butterball physique.

“Wh… How the hell did this happen…?” he gaped. He looked down and pawed at his blimped-out figure, feeling how huge and warm and soft it was. “What’s happing to us!?”

“I don’t know, man, I don’t know!” Ricky replied, “but they made us fat!” He then pointed a pudgy finger at Anthony and Mike.

“Us?” Anthony asked with an innocent expression on his face, “All we’ve done is stand here.”

“What’ve we been eating!?”

“Just desserts.” Anthony replied, stifling a laugh.

“Then how did we get this fat!?” Joe shouted.

“My guess,” Mike, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, joined in, “is all the food. I mean you did say you were hungry, and I guess it must be hard for fatsos like you two to exercise restraint.”

Ricky and Joe simply stared, mouth agape, shocked at the situation and at having their own words used against them. But the brief period without food was suddenly too much, and Ricky’s stomach let out a mighty GURGLE begging for more. Joe’s gut seemed to growl in concurrence and both boys turned red from embarrassment. Anthony and Mike shared a glance and a grin, and slowly meandered over to the dumbfounded diners.

“Sounds like these guys are still hungry, Anthony.”

“Well, they are growing boys, Mike.”

“How big do you think they’ve grown?”

“Well, just from a glance, they both look like they’re in the 260 range, maybe more.”

“Wow, now they’re real heavyweights.”

“I think they could be heavier.” Anthony said, picking up a cake and holding it tantalizingly in front of Joe.

“Yeah, with a little discipline, they could really put themselves in the big leagues.” Mike responded holding out a tray of cupcakes in front of Ricky.

“No. No more, I don’t want anymore.” Ricky said weakly while trying to resist, “I don’t want to be a fatso.”

“You’re a ways past that, tubs.” Mike said, poking him in his wide, distended belly.

“And besides, doesn’t this stuff just smell so good?” Anthony added using one hand to waft the scent of the cake towards Joe who by now was salivating.

“So go on,” Mike said, picking up a cupcake from the tray and waving it temptingly in front of Ricky, “you know you want it.”

Ricky was trembling. He was doing everything to resist the call of those amazing, overwhelming treats. But it was a futile endeavor. He snatched the cupcake out of Mike’s hand and shoved it into his mouth, frosting and bits of crumbs smearing the sides of his face. Then with both hands he tore into the rest of the small delights on the tray. Joe meanwhile took large handfuls out of the cake, shoved them in his face, and began devouring at full speed.

The two proceeded to scarf down the remaining desserts in the kitchen with reckless abandon, pausing only to belch out or come up for air. With each swallow, both boys bloated a little more. Ricky’s love handles stretched outwards and his gut inched forward, now sagging far over his waistband. Joe’s neck fully disappeared leaving an egg-shaped head perched atop a padded set of shoulders. A loud rip rang out as Ricky leaned low over the table to reach more food; it was the sound of his jeans splitting across his expanding ass exposing his strained underpants beneath the tear. Joe’s own hefty thighs and doughy derriere labored hard against the fabric of his shorts causing seams to separate in spots, but both were eclipsed by his pillowing belly and bosom. Upon licking clean a bowl of pudding, Ricky’s torso surged forward and his bunched up wifebeater, now stretched taut like a rubber band as it struggled to contain his chubby chest, ripped apart allowing a perky pair of moobs to flop forth atop his swollen stomach. If either noticed that their chins, cheeks, arms, legs, and torso were bulging larger with every bite, they gave no indication; instead they were intensely focused on stuffing every serving in front of them into their greedy mouths. And so they continued until the last cookie crumbled as it dissolved down their throats and reformed on their fattened figures. Ricky and Joe breathed heavily as they leaned back in the kitchen chairs overcome from the meal, the experience, and the effort of holding up their now 330-ish pound bodies.
“Congratulations guys, you’re sumo-sized.” Anthony said giving Ricky and slap on the back.

“I don’t know how you did it,” Ricky weakly groaned, his voice muffled slightly by food and fat, “but you two are going to pay for what you’ve done to us.”

“You’ve done this to yourself,” Mike replied even-toned and determined, “from the first cookie you shoved in your mouth to the last insult you hurled at us and every overweight person at the school. And now you’re going to pay by walking a mile in our shoes. Now go hit the gym, wide load.”

Ricky and Joe glanced at each other. Defeated in every sense of the word, they sighed and with effort got back onto their feet to leave.

“And be nicer to people,” Anthony smiled, “or I’ll make you even bigger than me.”

He put his hands on his hips and pushed out his gut to emphasize his point. Their eyes went wide and the quickly, awkwardly waddled out towards the front hall and the front door. The seams on both of their pants were split open in various places. The sleeves on Joe’s polo had ripped while the rest of the garment bunched up high on his small but pudgy pectorals and exposed his bulbous belly. The tatters of Ricky’s torn wifebeater hung pathetically around his armpits while his more solidly built letterman jacket, now a stinging reminder of his once lean figure, still hung open around his obese body never to be zipped up again. Even their sock and shoes were slightly ill-fitting as they struggled to contain fattened feet and pudgier toes.

Reaching the stairs in the front hallway, they braced themselves (Joe against the wall and Ricky the railing) and slowly, carefully bent down to grip their backpacks and outerwear from the bottom step. But in completing the action, there rang out a loud RIIIPPPP.

Ricky and Joe shot up like a flash of lightning, their faces red as cherries. After enduring the terrific strain of the afternoon expansion, their underwear had finally given way and exposed their roly-poly behinds through the now larger tears in the back of their pants. Anthony and Mike barreled over laughing at the sight. Thoroughly embarrassed, Ricky and Joe ran for the door, briefly getting wedged in the frame as they tried to maneuver out though it at the same time, before wiggling free, and then running as fast as their stubby legs could carry them.

* * * *

Hours later, having cleaned and put away the dishes and swept the floor, Anthony and Mike relaxed in the living room.

From a large armchair, Anthony raised his soda, “To sweet revenge.”

At the couch, Mike sipped silently from his can.

“What’s wrong, buddy? Everything went exactly like we planned, didn’t it?”

Mike sighed, “I was just thinking about revenge. Like dessert on its own, it's sweet but neither substantial nor very satisfying."

"You're getting awfully contemplative aren't you? We should be celebrating after giving those douchebags a taste of their own medicine."

"They may have learned a lesson, but we’re all still in the same boat as before. We grew huge, they grew huge, the book mucks up another pair of lives. Even if they may have deserved it, maybe we shouldn’t have lashed out. Are we any better than they were now?”

Anthony sighed and smiled. Mike couldn’t stand for other people to suffer. He was glad he had a friend with such a firmly decent set of principles. He thought for a moment and then let out an even deeper sigh.

“Before you get too deep in moral philosophy, I have something I want to show you.” Anthony set his drink down, heaved himself up, and grabbed the spell book off the coffee table.

“You're going to perform the reality-altering spell for Ricky and Joe? I’ve already seen that, remember?”

“I was going to do that, but not until after I do this one on you.” Anthony replied flipping towards a page in the back and walking over to Mike.

“Reductìo adipo Åbsurdüm...” Mike read quizzically, “What’s it do?”

“Well, to put it bluntly,” Anthony said taking the book back, “it returns you back to your previous weight.”

Overwhelmed by the words that emerged from Anthony’s mouth, Mike proceeded to do a spit take.

“You’re lucky Sprite is colorless or you’d be paying to clean the carpet.” Anthony laughed.

“ARE YOU SERIOUS!” Mike gasped for air.

“Yes, it says right here. The spell is to be used in case of emergencies or discomfort. The person who came up with this book really thought of everything.”

“Wait a minute,” Mike said, “Why didn’t you tell me about this before now?”

“I only found out about it last night. I’ve been going through this thing page by page so as not to miss anything, and I only finished the other night. I didn’t want to get your hopes up in case there was some bizarre curse or monkey’s paw-type consequences attached.”

This was a mixture of white lies and half-truths: while Anthony had known about the reverse spell since day one, he did only finish reading the book cover to cover a few days ago, and was genuinely concerned about dangerous side effects.

“I had intended on telling you at the end of school today so that you wouldn’t be agonizing over it until final bell. But then you told me about Ricky and Joe.”

“Then why didn’t you just suggest this instead of tricking them? That would’ve solved the whole problem!”

“Not the whole problem. They did need to learn a lesson, and it was fun to see them get their comeuppance. Wasn’t it?”

Mike smiled,“ Yeah, I guess it was. But you are going to put them back, right?”

“I’ll turn you back to normal, you deserve it. And Peter Moore as well, his only crime was an uncontrollable sweet tooth. But this spell gives the user the option to slim a person affected by the book back to their original weight or a lesser weight than their current. I’ll slim Ricky and Joe back to 215, 225, something like that. They could still benefit from being a little humble. If they want to work the rest of it off, then that’s their business. Then I’ll do the reality spell so they and everyone else think everything is normal.”

“Wait a minute… what about you? Aren’t you going to go back to normal?”

Anthony sighed heavily, paused for a moment, and then said, “No. No I’m not.”

“What? Why not? Are you not allowed to perform the spell on yourself? If that’s it, then I’ll just do it for you after you change me back. I’m not afraid of the book anymore. Let me do this for you, I’m not going to leave you stuck like that.”

Anthony shook his head, “Buddy, that’s the whole thing, I...I want to be stuck like this.”

Mike was confused and silent. Anthony was nervous about his silence but pushed through.

“After I slim you and them back down, I’m going to use the reality spell to wipe everyone’s memories so they never remember that you were anything but your original weight. You’re my best friend, so before you forget, I want to be honest with you when I say I’ve never been more comfortable with myself since that day at Peter’s house. I—I LIKE being fat, Mike. I like how I look, how I feel. I like my size, my limitations, the attention, all of it. I can’t fully explain it, but I’ve never felt whole until now, and now I can’t bare to give it up.”

Mike was silent as he took all of this in. He thought back to how long he’d known Anthony. He hadn’t really connected it, but upon looking back, in these past few weeks Anthony seemed more confident and at ease with himself than he’d ever seen him before. It was all in the way that he carried himself. He never complained about the weight; if anything, he seemed chipper.

Anthony meanwhile, was certain he could hear every word buzzing through Mike's head: "Psychopath. Disgusting. Animal. Degenerate. Freak." Mike didn't need to say anything out loud, the silence said it all. This was good practice, Anthony concluded. He'd finish saying what he needed to say, perform the spell, and everything would be back to normal; he was right to keep this a secret, he'd never bring it up with anyone again. He just needed to get through to the end, then he'd have this off his chest and still have his friend in his life.

“I think I might deflate to 300 or so.” Anthony continued nervously, “That seems like a nice even number. Then I could move around a little easier. But if I’m being honest, I think I’d try to gain back the weight naturally on my own, because… because this is how I'm meant to be, I think. And I know it’s weird and illogical and may even seem a little repellant, but this is me.”

Mike was silent for a long time as he considered what his best friend had said to him. The palpable tension was suffocating.

“You always have been an oddball, Anthony.” Mike smiled.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” Anthony laughed grateful for the break in the silence.

“But I’d rather know the true you, the real you than have a comfortable lie between us.”

Anthony froze, he was unsure he'd actually heard Mike correctly. There was more silence.

“Y-You mean it?”

“You’re right, I don’t get it... but everyone’s different. That’s okay." Mike rubbed the back of his head thoughtfully, "Plus I guess it is kind of cool, at times, to be massive.”

Anthony was practically near tears. He felt so happy and lucky.

“…but still, I’d still prefer muscle and the ability to see my toes easily.”

They both laughed out loud at that. Anthony couldn't quite hold back and felt a tear run down his face. He lumbered forward to Mike and the two shared a bear hug.

Eventually the two of them got to work. Anthony first performed Reductìo adipo Åbsurdüm by speaking the strange, foreign sounding words while waving his arm. Mike felt a cold sensation and started to shiver. As he vibrated, the weight just seemed to shake off of him. He soon found himself swimming in a vastly oversized shirt and gripping his pants before they slid off and he flashed his friend. He rubbed his hand against the smooth abdominals he’d worked so hard for.

“Good to be back.” He laughed.

Next Anthony performed it on himself. While standing in front of a mirror, he repeated the process while thinking of the number 300. He too shrunk down, but only for a short while. He took a moment to appreciate his new normal. It was a different feeling to be sure, but he still felt right being big.

Anthony performed the spell for the others before finally reciting the reality charm. Mike stood close by so as to not be effected by the reset. When the flash had dissipated, the two of them still remembered everything from today, the day at the Moore household, and everything before. In the front hall, a photo of the two of them depicted a younger, thin Mike standing beside a younger, heavyset Anthony. Their clothes had reset to match this reality and fit them perfectly. All was right with the world.

Mike glanced at the book for a moment.

“Hey Anthony, are there any limitations to how many times you can use the reduction spell?”

“Nope. It’s actually pretty clear about that. You can use it as often as need be.”

“Well… If there’s a sure-fire way to undo it, then maybe sometime, if you want an eating partner, we can have another pig-out session.”

THE END

Description
(NOTICE: Contains male weight gain, mildly mature content.)

Anthony walked into his house and shut the front door.

“Anyone home?” He called out from force of habit. There was no reply, nor would there be as his parents were both out of town for the week on business trips. Still, the silence was reassuring considering the nefarious nature of the plot he was going to engineer later in the day.

Dropping his backpack off by the stairs he strolled into the kitchen and poured himself a drink of water. He was grateful for the cool January weather and that his house was only a leisurely 7 minute walk from the school, but he was still a little worn out. Scratch that, while his house was only a 7-minute walk for an average individual, it took him about 20 to get there at his massive weight of 445 pounds. As much as he was loving being huge, he had to admit that there were some drawbacks and mobility was definitely one of them.

Having regained his composure, Anthony set the empty glass down and thought of his next move. Ricky and Joe would pay for harassing his friend Mike, and for being obnoxious assholes in general, and the instrument of their righteous comeuppance would be the very same article that led Mike and Anthony to be transformed from average American adolescents to heavyweight high school seniors. There was a poetic justice to it, he thought.

Anthony lumbered upstairs to his room. He walked over to his computer table and retrieved a key from underneath the desk pad. Next, he walked into his closet and from it’s hiding place in the back shelf behind his clothes, Anthony retrieved his miniature safe box. He opened the lock to reveal the contents: his passport, a couple of rare, first edition comics he’d acquired, a few other important items, and, most importantly, the book.

Returning to the kitchen, book in hand, he thumbed through the first several pages and found the Protection Charm. He read the summary listed below the title in small font and confirmed that this indeed would protect the holder from becoming a victim of the book’s enchantment. He recited the nonsensical, long-forgotten words and then was overcome by a warm feeling followed by sense of peace and refreshment.

“That must’ve done it.” He said.

He then turned his attention to the clock; Mike, Ricky, and Joe would be here in little more than an hour. That was nowhere near enough time to bake the amount of food that had caused Mike, Peter, and himself to grow. The Ars Gastronomé spell in chapter 4 would cause food to become radically more tasty, nourishing, and fattening than normal, but it only worked item by item. This called for the spell Anthony had read about in chapter 7, the Armāta Culinarāta spell.

Standing before the cooking area, Anthony spoke the words in the book phonetically while waving his arms the way the drawings in the corner of the page illustrated. For a moment, nothing happened and Anthony was about to try again when the refrigerator, cabinet, oven, and other appliances glowed green for a moment.

Then everything began to move; bowls, measuring cups, spoons, and other cooking paraphernalia came flying out of the cabinets and drawers while ingredients drifted out of the refrigerator and pantry as the oven turned itself on. Like a scene out of a Disney movie, all of the objects danced around the kitchen: eggs cracked themselves against the rim of a mixing bowl as flour, sugar, and baking powder sifted in from their containers. A bag of chocolate chips opened themselves and dove in succession into the mixture with the choreography of a Busby Berkeley synchronized swimming number followed by a somersaulting stick of butter.

As the other foodstuffs were added, a whisk mixed the concoction together until it was fluffy and even, then the bowl emptied out perfectly round dollops onto a pair of cookie trays that flew into the awaiting oven. While the chocolate chip cookies baked, the utensils passed through an assembly line at the sink being scrubbed, washed, and dried in rapid succession.

Then the process repeated itself. The fridge and pantry opened, both looking just as stocked as before, and this time other ingredients came out. Something new was being made. While this happened, the oven dinged and the cookies came out and landed on a large platter from the cupboard. They had only been in the oven for about 3 minutes, yet they were cooked through to a perfect golden brown. Anthony tried one of them and sure enough, it was a delicious, evenly-prepared cookie, but he new how to make them even better.

Setting two other cookies on a separate plate aside in the living room, Anthony returned to the magic cooking brigade going on in the kitchen and recited the Ars Gastronomé spell.

* * * *

“Speed it up Tubs, I’m getting hungry.” Ricky barked.

Mike was only two steps behind him and keeping pace, but it made no difference. Ricky and Joe weren’t known for the logic or cleverness of their insults, with them it was quantity over quality.

“Go easy Ricky.” Joe chimed in. “This trip from the bus stop has to be like a long-distance walk a for a guy his size. Must be a real strain.”

The three of them had walked 20 of the 30 yards from the bus stop to Anthony’s house. Mike wasn’t even breathing heavy. He was slightly red in the face, not from the cold, but from the rage he was feeling at these two braying jackasses.

“Speaking of strain, you see how the bus rose up after he stepped off?” Ricky and Joe laughed out loud together.

That was it, any regrets or second thoughts Mike might have had long since gone. It had been like this the ENTIRE ride.

“And here we are!” Mike said with a smile and chipper voice masking any hint of his deep annoyance. The three of them walked in though the unlocked door. The house was warm and smelled sweetly of baked goods. Anthony must be ready, Mike thought to himself. He set his backpack down near Anthony’s at the foot of the stairs. Ricky and Joe followed suit.

“Smells good in here.”

That was probably the only nice thing Mike had ever heard him say.

“Yeah, it’s like a bakery in here,” said Joe. Ricky took off his jacket and Joe dropped his hoody by his backpack. Ricky was wearing his letterman jacket over a wifebeater and jeans while Joe had on a striped polo and khaki shorts. Both of them already had tans despite the fact it was late January. God these guys are tools. They headed into the living room

“Who’s backpack was that by the stairs?” Ricky asked.

“Oh that was Anthony’s, this is his place.”

“That you, Mike?” Anthony called as he lumbered into the living room.

Ricky and Joe’s eyes went wide, not from being startled, but clearly by Anthony’s physique.

“Jeez, he’s even bigger than you. I guess all you fatties know each other.” Ricky said taking in Anthony’s size.

“Yep, sure do.” Anthony said jovially, thumping his big belly for emphasis,” After all, we know where the best food is.”

He went over to a side table and picked up a small plate of cookies.

“Speaking of, y’all must be hungry,” he picked one off the plate. “Here you go Mike.”

Mike briefly glanced down at the cookie, then back at Anthony, who nodded once, almost imperceptibly.

“Okay sure.” Mike said accepting the chocolate chip treat. Mike then grabbed one off the plate and quickly put it in his mouth.

“You guys want one?” he asked while chewing. Mike began to eat his cookie too. It was good, but tasted perfectly ordinary.

Ricky and then Joe stepped forward and grabbed the remaining two cookies off the plate. They took their first bites and their eyes went wide. Mike realized immediately what Anthony had done.

“This is good.” Ricky said between mouthfuls.

“Yeah, really good,” Joe said scarfing his cookie down. They all finished their snack quickly.

“Delicious,” Ricky said, ”you got more, right?”

“Unless they finished them off already” Joe joked.

“Nope, not yet,” Anthony smiled, “there’s plenty more in the kitchen if you’d like.”

He gestured to the doorway he’d entered from and the jocks walked on following the rich scent of food. Mike noticed they seemed slightly annoyed that Anthony was staying so cool and taking the insults they kept hurling in stride. Mike and Anthony lingered for a moment.

“No going back now,” Anthony said in a whisper.

“Time to enjoy the show,” Mike nodded.

Joe and Ricky turned the corner and found themselves in the kitchen and were taken aback by what they saw. The large table and all of the countertops and the center island were covered in serving plates, bowls, and casserole dishes all full of desserts; in fact, it was pretty much all of the crockery in Anthony’s house.

“W-what is this?” Ricky said as he and Joe looked out over the ridiculous spectacle before them.

“Just an afterschool snack.” Mike said as he and Anthony followed them in, “Big guys like us have big appetites.”

“Help yourselves to anything you’d like,” Anthony said joining in Mike’s confidence. “Just be careful or you’ll wind up fat as us.”

This got Ricky and Joe’s attention and they turned around.

“As fat as you?” Ricky balked.

“Fat chance,” Joe said clearly impressed with his own word play.

“Listen Pillsbury,” Ricky said poking Mike in the stomach, “There’s something different between guys like us and fatsos like you two.”

“Like how we can see our feet when we look down,” Joe added still grinning with his satisfaction from his previous contribution.

“That, and a little thing called ‘restraint.’ You see, I can actually eat one chip and be done, and even if I decide I want more, I’ve got the discipline to go work it off at the gym after.”

Mike and Anthony just smiled pleasantly throughout this. Ricky and Joe turned back towards the food.

“So we’ll take our fill and leave you to finish off the rest.”

Ricky went over to the counter and grabbed a small plate and started to fill it up buffet style. Joe meanwhile took a seat at the table, cut himself a piece of pie, and began to dig in. Ricky was still filling his plate with a small sample of everything (a cookie, a donut, a brownie) when the aroma of all food started to get to him. It smells so good, he thought. He picked up a chocolate peanut butter cup and instead of putting it on the tray he put it into his mouth. He almost moaned at how good it was, just as insanely delicious as the cookie he tried was. These fat guys sure could cook, he thought. He grabbed another item to put on the plate, but this too found its way straight into his mouth, so did the next one, and the next one…

Joe had finished his slice of pie and reached for a cookie from the nearby plate. Everything tasted even better than it smelled. As he munched away at the cookie, he cut himself a slice from the small cake in front of him, then pulled the bowl of pudding closer by so he could reach it easier. It was all so good. Somewhere back in his brain a thought rang out that he wasn’t feeling full, rather, he was feeling tingly… feeling warm. But none of that really registered, all he was focused on was the food in front of him and the rich, amazing taste of it all.

Ricky had long since stopped carrying the plate, although he had eaten everything off that plate before returning to graze from the dishes around the countertops moving around slightly as something new came into view. Lemon tarts, blondies, chocolate cupcakes, macarons, fudge squares! It was all so amazing, like his taste buds were awoken for the first time in his life! Ricky had just finished a sticky bun when suddenly he felt a rumbling in his stomach, then a surge of pressure.

*BRAAAAP* Ricky let out a tremendous belch. Was it getting warm in here, he thought? He pulled the zipper down more on his letterman jacket. As he separated the slider from the teeth at the bottom and fully opened his garment, he paused for a moment to look at his abdomen. It was looking kinda full, really full actually.

“I’m just a little bloated.” He thought uneasily. “I’ll take care of it at the gym.”

“Still,” he thought to himself, “maybe I should st- Oh my God, are those Nutella-stuffed churros?!”

* * * *

“Well that escalated quickly.”

“Yeah, so much for restraint.”

Mike and Anthony were speaking in hushed tones, although they didn’t really have to whisper. Not only were they several feet away as they stood by the doorway watching Ricky and Joe, the two diners were making entirely to much noise. The kitchen was full of the sound of chew, sip, munch, swallow, burp, gobble, slurp, belch, gurgle, rumble, and even if it wasn’t, even if Mike and Anthony were speaking right behind either of the busy eaters, it’s doubtful they would have noticed as their attention was diverted. In fact, Rick and Joey were so focused that they hadn’t even noticed the changes that were happening.

“It’s interesting,” Mike thought, “to be looking at the process as a spectator instead of as a participant.”

It had probably been about 10 minutes since the whole thing started, and while the cruel jocks had only just put a dent into the whole supply of food, what they had eaten was beginning to show on their frames. Slightly bloated bellies had expanded into actual rounding paunches, defined chins became less so as necks began to swell, perfect pecs started to soften and perk out, and, at least in the case of Ricky who currently had his back to the boys, butts began to billow slightly against pants fabric. They were both were well over the 200 pound mark by now.

While Mike was marveling at the process from a point of familiarity, Anthony was in quiet rapture. Seeing these guys inflate before him, it was once again like living a scene from one of the gainer fictions he read on DeviantArt or Writing.com. His soldier had snapped to full attention as the changes became noticeable. He was grateful his belly hid his groin from view. He silently wished he had set up his video camera and iPhone on the shelves on the walls to record this; imagine what gainers would pay to actually see this happen? Fortunately, he was able to maintain his composure.

* * * *

More time passed.

Ricky was munching on a donut. The sugary, cinnamony morsel caused his taste buds to somersault with delight. He took his second bite from it with a mighty chomp, but this caused the remainder to break off. Ricky’s eyes widened with concern as it fell, but it bounced off and landed safely on the granite countertop in front of him.

“That’s kind of weird.” Ricky thought internally. He was glad the delicious treat hadn’t landed on the floor and been spoiled, but the odd 90° angle trajectory caught him off guard. He looked downward. Why did it feel like something was in his way as he tilted his head lower?

There was something pink in front of him, no fleshy. It took him about 3 whole seconds to realize it was his belly. Scratch that, his gut. Muffin-topping over his jeans and shaping into a large sphere, his once washboard abdomen now resembled a large scoop of ice cream atop a cone. Ricky blinked repeatedly, staring down at the blob of fat he hadn't noticed before.

“How long had it been there?! Where did it come from?” He thought awestruck.

His wifebeater, covered in crumbs and streaks of chocolate, was pushed up high above his gut, he hesitantly reached down and gripped the squishy, globular mound, then froze to see that his fingers had become thick like sausages. He held his hands up and realized they too were padded and so were his arms. He felt a tingling sensation and for the first time noticed his body seemed to almost swell for a moment, inflating with something from the inside. He held his breath, wincing as his clothes suddenly seemed too painfully tight for him.

With an audible creak and then a mighty pop, his button flew off his pants and his zipper shot downward. Seeing the button land on the floor, Ricky backed up in panic until he retreated into the island cabinet. As he did, he felt the cushion of his expanded rear end. His hands shot back and he felt his previously narrow, taut buttocks had now become two massive melons. Both hands failed to fully grasp each cheek.

“J-Joe, I–” He didn’t finish his comment though, for as he turned around to see his right-hand man, he was shocked to see Joe was as fat and bloated as he was. At that moment, he was literally burying his face into a pie tin as using utensils or his hands was proving to inefficient a method to satisfy his greedy craving for more delicious food.

“JOE!” Ricky cried out. This got Joe’s attention and he turned to see his fattened friend, his chubby, frosting-stained cheeks and chins jiggling slightly in the process. His eyes went wide upon seeing the former jock.

“Ricky… what the hell happened!? You look so fat!”

Ricky was incredulous for a moment, “Look at yourself, shit-for-brains!”

“Whaddya—?” He looked down and let out a low cry of horror, gaping at his enlarged belly that was pinned between the seat of his lap and the table and the budding pair of moobs that were barely contained by his pushed up polo, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!”

With a mighty shove, he pushed himself away from the table, his chair falling backwards. He stumbled awkwardly into a standing position as his belt snapped and broke free along with his shorts button as a result of the pressure from the sudden action as well as his expanding waistline. He glanced all around at his butterball physique.

“Wh… How the hell did this happen…?” he gaped. He looked down and pawed at his blimped-out figure, feeling how huge and warm and soft it was. “What’s happing to us!?”

“I don’t know, man, I don’t know!” Ricky replied, “but they made us fat!” He then pointed a pudgy finger at Anthony and Mike.

“Us?” Anthony asked with an innocent expression on his face, “All we’ve done is stand here.”

“What’ve we been eating!?”

“Just desserts.” Anthony replied, stifling a laugh.

“Then how did we get this fat!?” Joe shouted.

“My guess,” Mike, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, joined in, “is all the food. I mean you did say you were hungry, and I guess it must be hard for fatsos like you two to exercise restraint.”

Ricky and Joe simply stared, mouth agape, shocked at the situation and at having their own words used against them. But the brief period without food was suddenly too much, and Ricky’s stomach let out a mighty GURGLE begging for more. Joe’s gut seemed to growl in concurrence and both boys turned red from embarrassment. Anthony and Mike shared a glance and a grin, and slowly meandered over to the dumbfounded diners.

“Sounds like these guys are still hungry, Anthony.”

“Well, they are growing boys, Mike.”

“How big do you think they’ve grown?”

“Well, just from a glance, they both look like they’re in the 260 range, maybe more.”

“Wow, now they’re real heavyweights.”

“I think they could be heavier.” Anthony said, picking up a cake and holding it tantalizingly in front of Joe.

“Yeah, with a little discipline, they could really put themselves in the big leagues.” Mike responded holding out a tray of cupcakes in front of Ricky.

“No. No more, I don’t want anymore.” Ricky said weakly while trying to resist, “I don’t want to be a fatso.”

“You’re a ways past that, tubs.” Mike said, poking him in his wide, distended belly.

“And besides, doesn’t this stuff just smell so good?” Anthony added using one hand to waft the scent of the cake towards Joe who by now was salivating.

“So go on,” Mike said, picking up a cupcake from the tray and waving it temptingly in front of Ricky, “you know you want it.”

Ricky was trembling. He was doing everything to resist the call of those amazing, overwhelming treats. But it was a futile endeavor. He snatched the cupcake out of Mike’s hand and shoved it into his mouth, frosting and bits of crumbs smearing the sides of his face. Then with both hands he tore into the rest of the small delights on the tray. Joe meanwhile took large handfuls out of the cake, shoved them in his face, and began devouring at full speed.

The two proceeded to scarf down the remaining desserts in the kitchen with reckless abandon, pausing only to belch out or come up for air. With each swallow, both boys bloated a little more. Ricky’s love handles stretched outwards and his gut inched forward, now sagging far over his waistband. Joe’s neck fully disappeared leaving an egg-shaped head perched atop a padded set of shoulders. A loud rip rang out as Ricky leaned low over the table to reach more food; it was the sound of his jeans splitting across his expanding ass exposing his strained underpants beneath the tear. Joe’s own hefty thighs and doughy derriere labored hard against the fabric of his shorts causing seams to separate in spots, but both were eclipsed by his pillowing belly and bosom. Upon licking clean a bowl of pudding, Ricky’s torso surged forward and his bunched up wifebeater, now stretched taut like a rubber band as it struggled to contain his chubby chest, ripped apart allowing a perky pair of moobs to flop forth atop his swollen stomach. If either noticed that their chins, cheeks, arms, legs, and torso were bulging larger with every bite, they gave no indication; instead they were intensely focused on stuffing every serving in front of them into their greedy mouths. And so they continued until the last cookie crumbled as it dissolved down their throats and reformed on their fattened figures. Ricky and Joe breathed heavily as they leaned back in the kitchen chairs overcome from the meal, the experience, and the effort of holding up their now 330-ish pound bodies.
“Congratulations guys, you’re sumo-sized.” Anthony said giving Ricky and slap on the back.

“I don’t know how you did it,” Ricky weakly groaned, his voice muffled slightly by food and fat, “but you two are going to pay for what you’ve done to us.”

“You’ve done this to yourself,” Mike replied even-toned and determined, “from the first cookie you shoved in your mouth to the last insult you hurled at us and every overweight person at the school. And now you’re going to pay by walking a mile in our shoes. Now go hit the gym, wide load.”

Ricky and Joe glanced at each other. Defeated in every sense of the word, they sighed and with effort got back onto their feet to leave.

“And be nicer to people,” Anthony smiled, “or I’ll make you even bigger than me.”

He put his hands on his hips and pushed out his gut to emphasize his point. Their eyes went wide and the quickly, awkwardly waddled out towards the front hall and the front door. The seams on both of their pants were split open in various places. The sleeves on Joe’s polo had ripped while the rest of the garment bunched up high on his small but pudgy pectorals and exposed his bulbous belly. The tatters of Ricky’s torn wifebeater hung pathetically around his armpits while his more solidly built letterman jacket, now a stinging reminder of his once lean figure, still hung open around his obese body never to be zipped up again. Even their sock and shoes were slightly ill-fitting as they struggled to contain fattened feet and pudgier toes.

Reaching the stairs in the front hallway, they braced themselves (Joe against the wall and Ricky the railing) and slowly, carefully bent down to grip their backpacks and outerwear from the bottom step. But in completing the action, there rang out a loud RIIIPPPP.

Ricky and Joe shot up like a flash of lightning, their faces red as cherries. After enduring the terrific strain of the afternoon expansion, their underwear had finally given way and exposed their roly-poly behinds through the now larger tears in the back of their pants. Anthony and Mike barreled over laughing at the sight. Thoroughly embarrassed, Ricky and Joe ran for the door, briefly getting wedged in the frame as they tried to maneuver out though it at the same time, before wiggling free, and then running as fast as their stubby legs could carry them.

* * * *

Hours later, having cleaned and put away the dishes and swept the floor, Anthony and Mike relaxed in the living room.

From a large armchair, Anthony raised his soda, “To sweet revenge.”

At the couch, Mike sipped silently from his can.

“What’s wrong, buddy? Everything went exactly like we planned, didn’t it?”

Mike sighed, “I was just thinking about revenge. Like dessert on its own, it's sweet but neither substantial nor very satisfying."

"You're getting awfully contemplative aren't you? We should be celebrating after giving those douchebags a taste of their own medicine."

"They may have learned a lesson, but we’re all still in the same boat as before. We grew huge, they grew huge, the book mucks up another pair of lives. Even if they may have deserved it, maybe we shouldn’t have lashed out. Are we any better than they were now?”

Anthony sighed and smiled. Mike couldn’t stand for other people to suffer. He was glad he had a friend with such a firmly decent set of principles. He thought for a moment and then let out an even deeper sigh.

“Before you get too deep in moral philosophy, I have something I want to show you.” Anthony set his drink down, heaved himself up, and grabbed the spell book off the coffee table.

“You're going to perform the reality-altering spell for Ricky and Joe? I’ve already seen that, remember?”

“I was going to do that, but not until after I do this one on you.” Anthony replied flipping towards a page in the back and walking over to Mike.

“Reductìo adipo Åbsurdüm...” Mike read quizzically, “What’s it do?”

“Well, to put it bluntly,” Anthony said taking the book back, “it returns you back to your previous weight.”

Overwhelmed by the words that emerged from Anthony’s mouth, Mike proceeded to do a spit take.

“You’re lucky Sprite is colorless or you’d be paying to clean the carpet.” Anthony laughed.

“ARE YOU SERIOUS!” Mike gasped for air.

“Yes, it says right here. The spell is to be used in case of emergencies or discomfort. The person who came up with this book really thought of everything.”

“Wait a minute,” Mike said, “Why didn’t you tell me about this before now?”

“I only found out about it last night. I’ve been going through this thing page by page so as not to miss anything, and I only finished the other night. I didn’t want to get your hopes up in case there was some bizarre curse or monkey’s paw-type consequences attached.”

This was a mixture of white lies and half-truths: while Anthony had known about the reverse spell since day one, he did only finish reading the book cover to cover a few days ago, and was genuinely concerned about dangerous side effects.

“I had intended on telling you at the end of school today so that you wouldn’t be agonizing over it until final bell. But then you told me about Ricky and Joe.”

“Then why didn’t you just suggest this instead of tricking them? That would’ve solved the whole problem!”

“Not the whole problem. They did need to learn a lesson, and it was fun to see them get their comeuppance. Wasn’t it?”

Mike smiled,“ Yeah, I guess it was. But you are going to put them back, right?”

“I’ll turn you back to normal, you deserve it. And Peter Moore as well, his only crime was an uncontrollable sweet tooth. But this spell gives the user the option to slim a person affected by the book back to their original weight or a lesser weight than their current. I’ll slim Ricky and Joe back to 215, 225, something like that. They could still benefit from being a little humble. If they want to work the rest of it off, then that’s their business. Then I’ll do the reality spell so they and everyone else think everything is normal.”

“Wait a minute… what about you? Aren’t you going to go back to normal?”

Anthony sighed heavily, paused for a moment, and then said, “No. No I’m not.”

“What? Why not? Are you not allowed to perform the spell on yourself? If that’s it, then I’ll just do it for you after you change me back. I’m not afraid of the book anymore. Let me do this for you, I’m not going to leave you stuck like that.”

Anthony shook his head, “Buddy, that’s the whole thing, I...I want to be stuck like this.”

Mike was confused and silent. Anthony was nervous about his silence but pushed through.

“After I slim you and them back down, I’m going to use the reality spell to wipe everyone’s memories so they never remember that you were anything but your original weight. You’re my best friend, so before you forget, I want to be honest with you when I say I’ve never been more comfortable with myself since that day at Peter’s house. I—I LIKE being fat, Mike. I like how I look, how I feel. I like my size, my limitations, the attention, all of it. I can’t fully explain it, but I’ve never felt whole until now, and now I can’t bare to give it up.”

Mike was silent as he took all of this in. He thought back to how long he’d known Anthony. He hadn’t really connected it, but upon looking back, in these past few weeks Anthony seemed more confident and at ease with himself than he’d ever seen him before. It was all in the way that he carried himself. He never complained about the weight; if anything, he seemed chipper.

Anthony meanwhile, was certain he could hear every word buzzing through Mike's head: "Psychopath. Disgusting. Animal. Degenerate. Freak." Mike didn't need to say anything out loud, the silence said it all. This was good practice, Anthony concluded. He'd finish saying what he needed to say, perform the spell, and everything would be back to normal; he was right to keep this a secret, he'd never bring it up with anyone again. He just needed to get through to the end, then he'd have this off his chest and still have his friend in his life.

“I think I might deflate to 300 or so.” Anthony continued nervously, “That seems like a nice even number. Then I could move around a little easier. But if I’m being honest, I think I’d try to gain back the weight naturally on my own, because… because this is how I'm meant to be, I think. And I know it’s weird and illogical and may even seem a little repellant, but this is me.”

Mike was silent for a long time as he considered what his best friend had said to him. The palpable tension was suffocating.

“You always have been an oddball, Anthony.” Mike smiled.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” Anthony laughed grateful for the break in the silence.

“But I’d rather know the true you, the real you than have a comfortable lie between us.”

Anthony froze, he was unsure he'd actually heard Mike correctly. There was more silence.

“Y-You mean it?”

“You’re right, I don’t get it... but everyone’s different. That’s okay." Mike rubbed the back of his head thoughtfully, "Plus I guess it is kind of cool, at times, to be massive.”

Anthony was practically near tears. He felt so happy and lucky.

“…but still, I’d still prefer muscle and the ability to see my toes easily.”

They both laughed out loud at that. Anthony couldn't quite hold back and felt a tear run down his face. He lumbered forward to Mike and the two shared a bear hug.

Eventually the two of them got to work. Anthony first performed Reductìo adipo Åbsurdüm by speaking the strange, foreign sounding words while waving his arm. Mike felt a cold sensation and started to shiver. As he vibrated, the weight just seemed to shake off of him. He soon found himself swimming in a vastly oversized shirt and gripping his pants before they slid off and he flashed his friend. He rubbed his hand against the smooth abdominals he’d worked so hard for.

“Good to be back.” He laughed.

Next Anthony performed it on himself. While standing in front of a mirror, he repeated the process while thinking of the number 300. He too shrunk down, but only for a short while. He took a moment to appreciate his new normal. It was a different feeling to be sure, but he still felt right being big.

Anthony performed the spell for the others before finally reciting the reality charm. Mike stood close by so as to not be effected by the reset. When the flash had dissipated, the two of them still remembered everything from today, the day at the Moore household, and everything before. In the front hall, a photo of the two of them depicted a younger, thin Mike standing beside a younger, heavyset Anthony. Their clothes had reset to match this reality and fit them perfectly. All was right with the world.

Mike glanced at the book for a moment.

“Hey Anthony, are there any limitations to how many times you can use the reduction spell?”

“Nope. It’s actually pretty clear about that. You can use it as often as need be.”

“Well… If there’s a sure-fire way to undo it, then maybe sometime, if you want an eating partner, we can have another pig-out session.”

THE END