The Child

In an unknown setting, there was a a well built house, a mix of a mansion, and a colonial home. In it was a small family of 3--a woman named Felicia, her husband Marty, and their adorable 19-year old daughter, Louise.

Louise and her mother were the only ones who resembled each other--that is except for the age gap. Felicia was 31 years old, but she was quite uncouth. She was 5'9", and 998 lbs. Why, you may ask? Marty didn't have a preference for the larger woman--he had a fetish for gargantuan women. You could imagine what this hobo-esque man did to keep her fat, fed, and hot: he ordered monstrous amounts of food, and fed her around 100 dishes a day, plus her 3 square meals. Basically, Felica ate all day. Because of this, she had to dwell in the kitchen, meaning, if Louise wanted to eat any red licorice, she had to fid a way around her mother--while it found a way into Felicia's mouth.

Louise often wore a white knit cap, with a blue sweater and white dress, but she looked horrid. Her face looked like that of a middle class worker and she was nearly 100 lbs, but "5'8."

"Louise!" Bellowed the monstroush matriarch, "Bring me my donuts, now!"

Louise had never gone to school, but she used to have friends. These friends caught a glimpse of her life once and tried to do everything they could to pull her out, but Marty was nearly on the notion to kill them all. One of them was so determined to set Louise free that he managed to poison him.

Now, Marty would have helped feed the wife, but he was ill. Louise, therefore was running ragged.

"Louise! Don't make me punish you!" Bellowed her mother again.

"Coming, mother!" Louise chirped, as she hurried to lug the 40 dozen donuts. After that she wasn't done. Her mother loathed eating a meal without a drink, and she loathed drinking without eating. In only 6 wee hours, Louise stuffed the kitchen with an unhealthy fort of cake, monster donuts, milkshakes, soda, juice, and cheesecake.

"Thanks, doll." Feelicia said as she began to eat.

Louise was called to bring her another set of donuts in a half hour, and to rid her of empty donut boxes.

It was at this time the neighborhood bakery knew what to do.

It was run by Layla Tart, a 29-year old, 408 lb. woman, who was corful, and adorably sweet--she could have been Louise's sister.

"The usual, Louise?" Layla asked.

"Yes, please." Louise said, mournfully.

The order was enormous, so the baker helped Louise bring them to the house. Only then was she greeted by Felicia, who sat in the kitchen, barely clothed, and constantly in a mess aout herself and with food.

"Louise, get in here, and feed me!" Felicia roared with much intensity.

"You can go, Layla," Felicia said, caming down, "I feel I may need you later though."

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"That poor little girl," Layla would say to herself, each day this routine happened.

Layla was always tearful when sad, and this led her to clean out her display section, eating out all of her precious cakes. Of course, she needed to replace them, so as she was sniffling, she waved her finger the remaining crumbs, and magically made the food reappear.

Layla then closed her shop and went to sleep.

At the same time, a shady man, cloaked like an assassin, sped off her rooftop, and hid near a stil-lit house.

"What could anyone be doing at this hour?!" the man scowled.

He saw a young lady, matching the image of a miserable child, cooking, then cleaning the home, then cleaning her mother.

At that part, the man clenched his fists.

"I ought to cave that fat face of hers!" he said, unable to contain his rage. He then scaled the mansion, and spotted not one maid or butler. He proceeded to a window, where he saw Louise almost collapse.

He threw a Rolling Savate at the window and cleared the glass, so much as to not hurt Louise. But as she had a miserably small education, she didn't know what to do when an assassin came through he window into her room.

"Come with me!" he starkly commanded.

"Um...but mommy said,"

"I care nothing about your mother, as you should not either. I've seen you--you're a wreck, ain't you?"

"Um..."

"What's that? You'll call the police?"

Soon enough, Louise heard her mother bellow.

"Get me my Chinese! I can't reach it! Get down here!"

Louise was quick to do such, but the assassin gripped her arm, and showed no signs of letting go.

"H-help! Mommy!"

"Ha! She can't save you. She couldn't lift a dang finger if she tried...not that she would. Come on, now."

The assassin took Louise onto her back, via Irish Whip, and jumped right out. He leaped on cars that were passing nearby, and he reached the bakery.

"I've brought her, just like you asked, little sister!"

"Oh, Mike, thank you." Layla said while hugging Louise.

"Now, Louise, let's get you cleaned up. After that, we'll have to reacquaint you with joy."

Layla, being agile for such a broad woman, got Louise into a bath, and after cleaning her up, Louise almost didn't want to stop feeling her radiant skin. But, then Layla came in with a ham sandwich, on a side with cookies, an juice.

"Don't think about slinking away, because I know you're hungry."

It didn't take long to see Louise enjoying her meal. In fact, she made the food vanish almost immediately.

"Wow, she's hungry!" Mike said, sounding friendly.

"But you don't wanna keep her up all night. We gotta find a place for her to sleep."

"Well, she can live with us." Layla said.

"We don't have--"

"Mike, may I remind you that we have an unused room?"

"But we use that for storing our profit!"

"We can store it somewhere else. You can take of her for a while, I'll be right back."

Layla left the two, to make peace with each other, as she returned with luxorious bedsheets and comforters. She then spent considerable time in the extra room, until she announced she was finished.

"Okay, here you are, your very own room!"

Louise smiled, especially, since for her first time, she experienced happiness.

"Um, thank you..."

"You can thank me by staying here with us. And don't worry, we'll take care of you."

Layla and Mike helped Louise in her new ultracomfy bed, as louise quickly fell asleep.