Lots of meat and a nasty surprise.

James tiptoed through the house, wary of alerting his sister. They weren't on bad terms or anything, but James could do without dumb questions about his suddenly much bigger bulge. In the kitchen, he opened the fridge and instantly began salivating at the sight of meat and sausages from their parents last cookout. Almost drooling onto his chest, James began ripping open packages of hot dogs and wolfed them down directly in front of the open fridge. Within minutes, no more sausages remained and James ripped open his mother's tupperwares, barely chewing meat cutlets and meatballs before swallowing. It didn't take long before no meat remained in the fridge, the packaging forming a small pile in front of it, and James finally returned to his senses.

He felt stuffed, stomach almost aching with the amount of leftovers he'd eaten. Groaning, he closed the fridge and trotted over to one of the seats around the kitchen island, plopping down heavily. What in the world had come--

"What the hell, Jamie? What's with this mess?!"

Slowly turning his head towards the entrance to the kitchen, James saw his sister standing there, hands on her hips and a deep scowl on her face. James groaned inwardly. Just what he needed, a lecture from his sister while his head felt... so sluggish... food coma setting in... and the itching on his torso was getting worse...

"Huh...?" was all that came out of James' throat, Lily's eyelid twitching in annoyance as her brother just stared at her, scratching his ribs and upper belly absentmindedly.

"Oh come ON! Did you smoke weed or something?! First the munchies, now you're high?"

"Uuuh... nooo?"

"Sure you didn't. Can you at least help me clean up?" Lily asked with her arms crossed, one finger tapping on her biceps.

"Uh-huh..." James groaned, slipping off the chair, and trotted over to the fridge. Sitting down on his haunches, he began gathering up plastic wrappers, his sister squatting down next to him to take care of the tupperwares. She gathered them into her arms and stepped to the dish washer. James kept picking up trash, the heavenly scent of meat tickling his nose, his head filled with a pleasant warmth and very few thoughts. His belly felt so stuffed... the fullness radiated through his whole lower body... particularly his hips and tailbone felt so tight against the fabric of his pants... no, wait. That wasn't right, was it? It shouldn't feel--

*SHRIIIIP*

With a loud ripping noise, his shorts burst at the seams, his hips pulling them apart while... something... flopped over the waistband just over his ass. Worry began to seep into the lazy haze in James' mind as he turned his head and twisted his body to look behind him.

(Author's comment: Anyone want to see a specific breed of dog morph James should turn into?)