The King's invite

Now fully washed and dressed you feel your stomach grumble for food. You make your way over to the small kitchen openly connected to the living room and stoke the stove to start fixing yourself some breakfast. You slice up some thick cuts of the bacon you got from the butcher and place them into the heated skillet and admire the satisfying sizzle and delicious smell as it hits the hot iron. Into the bacon fat you crack in some eggs from the market and cook them along side the meat. Once those are all done cooking and transferred to a plate you slice up a loaf of bread you baked yourself just yesterday and cut up a wedge of cheese from the wheel generously gifted to you by your dairy farmer friend, and why not a bunch of the sweet grapes you parted with some of your pumpkins for from the local vineyard to go with it. Finally, to top your breakfast off, a bottle of spiced mead courtesy of your apiarist neighbor. You admire the luxurious, at least by your standards, meal in front of you. Hopefully if you keep eating like this you'll be twice your current size come spring and all your friends will gawk at your big round belly. Maybe you'd even attract that one hunk you've had your eye on for a while now.

Soon your hunger overpowers your rampant fantasies of being much bigger than you are and you decide to dig into the delicious spread before you and before you know it you've devoured it all. Admittedly you're eyes were as bit bigger than your stomach and you're left feeling so bloated you can barely do anything other than lay back in your chair and rub your swollen belly, now taught with food. You stay like that for a while, just idly massaging your overstuffed gut, until suddenly there's a knock at the door which causes you to nearly fall out of your chair. Who could it be? You almost never get visitors. You sluggishly pull yourself out of your chair and lumber over to the door, your body feeling like a lead weight. You pull it open and are shocked by the person behind it or, more specifically, the sheer size of the person behind it. Behind the door is a massive wolf dressed in fine silks of red and gold, his obese frame filling up the entire doorframe. He's no doubt a member of nobility given his clothes and immense girth. Sure, the people of the land were fat, but very few had the means to grow to the titanic size of nobles who could afford all the food in the world and the servants to let them sit on their ever expanding asses all day.

The colossal wolf looks down at you, his triple chin bunching up beneath his pudgy muzzle, almost as if he's sizing up if he has the space right now to fit you into his gargantuan stomach right now. You try to move your mouth to speak but before you can make a sound he clears his throat and begins to speak.

"Good day, sir ______, I've come bearing a message from King Porter."

The King!? You nearly leap out of your skin when you hear his name. The wolf unfurls a scroll of parchment from his coat in front of his face and begins to read.

"Dear sir ______, The shipment of pumpkins you delivered to our castle were most excellent and made an exquisite feast of desserts that were enjoyed heavily by ourself and the Royal Guard, who sung high praise of it all night. We'd like to formally invite you to Castle Tallowford so that we may thank you in person and give you a more fitting reward. Signed, King Geraint Porter II."

The wolf lowered the letter and stared back down at you. You're completely stunned by this news. Sure, with how much the King enjoys food, it's not unheard of that he people to the castle that have made him food that he enjoys but you never thought in a thousand ages your humble crops would be good enough to garner praise from the King himself. You have no clue how to respond. feel either you're about to faint or your heart is about to explode out of your chest. All you can manage to get out of your mouth are a few fumbling stutters the don't amount to anything. The wolf nods as he returns the parchment to his pocket, pivots to the side and gestures to the opulent stagecoach waiting on the side of the dirt road that was previously obscured by all his flab flooding the doorway.

"If you would be so kind, please seat yourself in the carriage and we will escort you to the castle."

"Y...Y-Yes!" You blurt out as you quickly bow before you totally forget your manners.

"Excellent, please come along."

You rush over to the fireplace to shutter it so it doesn't burn down your home while you're gone and rush out back to the door where the wolf escorts you to the massive carriage and helps you inside. The inside is beautiful, made of expertly carved mahogany panels, luxurious velvet padding, and gorgeous gold accents all around. It's the largest carriage you've ever seen, no doubt to accommodate its extremely huge and heavy passengers. You feel so tiny sitting in the extra wide seat. The cabin rocks violently as the wolf somehow manages to heave himself up through the door and squeeze into the seat opposite of yours, his flab filling it completely from wall to wall. He shuts the door and pulls a chord to signal the coachman to go and within seconds you feel the cabin lurch as the carriage starts to move forward. Once in motion, the noblewolf pulls open a panel from the wall which served as a miniature table for the vices kept inside.

"Could I offer you some food? A drink? Perhaps a cigar?" He asks as he pulls out a bottle of champagne and pours himself a glass which looks comically small compared to his immense girth.