Crushed Weasel

There was no telling what Georgia had planned. Being in her body, she could have rallied all the townsfolk, or at least a good portion of them, and even some dangerous allies as well. If she was going to get her body back, she'd need all the help she can get. And that meant... swallowing her pride and fears and going over to the one place she hated going to the most.

Texas stood outside of the Crushed Weasel, taking a deep breath. "It's fine. It's fine. These varmints think you're Georgia, so as long as they do, they won't hurt ya." She muttered that reminder to herself before mustering up the courage and going in.

The patrons already inside all glanced at her, and Texas was praying she doesn't get immediately ganged up on. To her surprise, everyone in here happily greets her.

"Hey, Georgia's here!" One shouts.

"Hey hey, Georgia! How's it going?" Another shouted.

Texas walked in, nodding at everyone. Was Georgia really this well liked. This was a surprise. She sat down at the front table, her ass requiring three whole chairs to sustain her weight. Annabelle comes out and greets her with a smirk.

"Well, if it ain't Georgia, my favorite customer." Annabelle greets with a smile. "What brings you on over? Morning chili?"

Texas shook her head. "No. I'm actually planning on finding Geo-I mean, Texas! Y-Yeah, and I need a crew to nab her. Y'know, just to be safe and all." She explained carefully.

"Uh-huh." Annabelle couldn't help but squint. "Say, why're you wearing a mini waistband? You know everyone's been staring at that ass of yours, right? More than usual. We can all agree it's your best feature, but..."

"O-Oh, that ol' thing? I wanted to try something new, y'know? And besides, my pants needed to get a good scrubbin' anyway!" Texas explained.

Annabelle tilted her head. "Why do you care about your pants being clean? It's even better to stink up that ugly pain in the neck weasel." She folded her arms. "You doing okay, girl? Y'ain't sounding like yourself."

Crap, they're catching on! Quick, say something, now!

"Not myself just for trying a new style? If I wasn't myself, would I order...13 bowls of chili?!" She asked in a panic. She knew Georgia loved this chili, for whatever reason. Hopefully this is a good way to hide her identity.

"No." Annabelle answers. "7 pots was your record, remember? You going for a higher one?"

"D-Damn straight!" Texas replied. This was now a high stakes battle. Georgia had a gut on her, but she didn't know it's limits!

Annabelle smirked. "Well, let's see if you can beat it. Hey, everyone! Georgia's going for a new record!" Annabelle shouted, some patrons bringing out ENORMOUS pots of chili. Texas gulped, feeling sweat on her brow.

"W-Well...time to dig in." She thought to herself nervously.