Weeping filled the halls of the penthouse, interrupted briefly by the sounds of ravenous consumption and the occasional rumble of gas. Night had drawn in but a few hours ago, the corridors cast a dull white from the city lights outside and the looming presence of the moon high in the sky. As one was to get closer, the sounds intensified, as did the smell, with the very air itself looking heavy and smoggy. Sprawled out upon a mattress of utter absurd proportion, Bowstring lay. Somehow, she’d managed to lay out on her belly, the mass of blubber it consisted of squashing out around her, creating an additional mattress of herself. Her belly rolls squashed outwards, the weight of body pressing the malleable lumps of adipose out like somepony squishing a blob of blu tac.
Her swollen arms reached out with the very last mobility they could manage, only just allowing her to grab another grease stained bag. Her messy hands fumbled with the packaging, tearing the paper asunder as she retrieved the prize within. Opening her mouth, she felt the swells of face fat wobble about as she opened as wide as she could manage, cramming the oversized burger in as much as possible. She took large, sloppy bites, not caring in the slightest as a mixture of oil, condiments and sauce added to the strange managare of stains spotting her face. Joining the mess, tears trickled down, her eyes red and puffy. Swallowing, she almost choked as she forced in another massive mouthful, reducing the meal to nothing in a matter of moments.
Around her, the bedroom shared more in common with a waste dump than a luxury apartment. Heaps and heaps of trash lay strewn about, in some places a little more than ankle deep. Her mobility scooter sat amongst this pile of detritus, looking very sorry for itself. Down the middle, the robust metal frame had been shorne in two, with only the very thickest of parts of the frame still attached to one another. The air too hung heavy with a cloying mixture of all manner of strange, gut wrenching smells. Every type of fast food mingled together, undercutting the scent of a bonafide slob. Sweat and flatulence mixed together, joining the foody smell to create what was undoubtedly a rank odour that only intensified the longer the immobile blob continued to binge.
Not a scrap of clothing covered any portion of her form, nor had any done so for the past few days, leaving every inch of plush white pegasus exposed to ooze outwards. Her immense, saggy ass was on full display. Laid out on her gut, Bowstrings ass rose up, composed of nothing but hundreds upon hundreds of pounds of loose flab. Under their immense weight, both cheeks spread out, sloshing back and forth with every slight movement. Her cutie marks hadn’t been spared in the slightest; The brown crossbow distorting into nought but a strange brown blob of colour, growing ever more deformed as the pounds added to her overblown frame.
Each cellulite pocked, saggy mass of overnourished blubber was a testament to the mare's gluttony, the immense sizes of the two being the sole reason why her scooter was in such a state of disrepair. Indeed, she had been ballooning, her already insane frame just bloating out more and more lard. Well, gluttony, mixed with a fair amount of comfort eating to be more precise. Against Bowstrings best wishes, the situation at the studio was becoming ever more prevalent by the day. It seemed as though that in between each shot, at least one of the cast or staff would find a way to demean her, to find something to criticise about her. The still present heatwave was definitely a contributing factor, as her dress had to be replaced fairly frequently to keep continuity between shots. Given how much she appeared throughout the film, the amount of work that could be done each day seemed to plummet continually.
And the cast and crew were all eager to point this fact out. Quiet mumbles, open conversations, even loudly telling her it directly to her face. To call the atmosphere ‘toxic’, would have been an understatement. It seemed that regardless of how much effort she put into her role, there was always that niggling little seed of self doubt at the back of her mind. By now, that seed had been fertilised by the bombardment of hate towards her, flourishing into a curtain of strangling vines that leeched from her. Her motivation was but a shallow pit of what it once was, and it was hard to every stay in character or focus on performing.
Even with her time off set, it seemed that she couldn’t escape the ire. Her trips to the restaurant increased, the simple warming feeling and delight they provided seemed like a buoy amongst a turbulent ocean. The cashier continued to make remarks, slightly muffled by the face mask she now wore. She didn’t explain why she had it, but the purpose was clear as day. And so she came back, day after day, as her hunger seemed to spiral out of control. More bags crowded the plastic trays with every order, as did more stains seem to crowd her upper belly and face.
Her body dutifully continued to work at the mass of food she forced into it continually, the sheer mass of calories, fat and sugar her body broke down, sending it away to be turned into more poundage. Her rolls battened, fighting against her clothing continually as the fabric rode up her flab, hugging against each overhang and saggy slab. Processing so much of Berry Pies brand food hadn’t improved her smell or hygiene situation either, the additive ladened recipes brewing up a storm of reeking flatulence. Immersing herself in food, she spent hours working away at each mouthful, grease and sugar pooling in her belly, packing her full to the brim as she forced more and more in.
Unfortunately, such weight gain wasn’t without consequence, specifically for her mobility scooter. With a gut wrenching sound, the metal was shorne down the middle, leaving her stranded in the middle of the fast food joint, leading to an embarrassing situation where she had to be towed out of the building. The damage, she would later find out, was far more extensive that what appeared at first glance. The electronics were on their last legs, practically about to explode from the strain placed upon them. The suspension too was just about to bottom out. With the amount of wear and tear, it would have been far quicker and cheaper to order a new one than repair it.
Her size, however, made that a little problematic. Considering that she was the largest pony alive, she dwarfed any of the locally produced designs by some margin. The only solution was for a new, custom made model to be shipped in from Manehatten. Compared to her previous one, it had more than enough room to accommodate her form, and even a considerable amount of growth beyond that. For the time being, however, she was rendered utterly immobile outside of simple movements.
With one of his stars unable to perform, both physically and mentally, Montage had made the executive decision to postpone filming until issues could be resolved. The reasoning behind it was perfectly understandable, given that each scene she was involved in seemed like pulling teeth in terms of the amount of usable footage that could be used. Montage was fairly diplomatic about the whole affair, but it still struck a chord with Bow, just another thing she’s mucking up and wasting others time with.
So that was where Bowstring found herself now, wallowing in bed as she binged upon a monumental quantity of food, tears running down her face as she forced more and more into her muzzle, not caring about how bits of half eaten food dribbled from between her lips, spattering onto her chins and other outcroppings of flesh. Her pillow sized boobs were becoming a significant food trap, a great collection of food scraps lodged between the milky mounds. “Ffrrppbbbttt!! Brrrrpppbbtt!! Brroommpppttt!” A deep, flesh wobbling torrent of flatulence broke loose, adding to the already heavy, humid atmosphere. With the minuscule amount of extra room she’d made from that, her grubby hands reached out, grasping at a thoroughly decimated cake, adding a fresh layer of sticky icing to the multicoloured collection.
Swallowing heavily, she lay there, attempting to wipe away another tear, only ending up smearing mess across her cheeks. She lay there, panting heavily as she forced in a number of breaths. Between her sniffles and gasps, she became aware of noise, slowly building. Blinking, she pulled her head out a tray of cake, looking towards the door as the noise reached its peak. “Unless you’ve… pant… got food with you… go away!” She shouted, though it came out far quieter than she’d intended.
“What about friends then?” A somewhat sophisticated tone responded, undercut by a very clear level of concern. Bow gasped, dipping her head back down, attempting to hide amongst the food. All the person got in response initially was a rustle of food packaging, followed a short while later by a quiet, muffled voice.
“Please, ‘Ganza, You… you can’t see me like this…” She whimpered, cringing as she heard the electronic whine ramp up, the massive pair of doors slowly pushing outwards by a combination of magic and brute force. Managing to open her eyes, the sea of rubbish was parted by the newcomer, plastic and paper crunching under the heavy duty wheels.
“It’s far too late for that Bow. From the photos I’ve seen in the newspaper, you’ve been suffering like this for a while now.” Looking up, Bow trailed up a swell of belly fat, jiggling about in the confined of the mobility scooter. Further up, she was met with a pair of amber-gold eyes, looking upon the bed bound fatty with deep concern. This was framed by a mane of extraordinary size, styled up into a great shell like curl as big as her head was. The one who’d helped to launch her into the world of plus-sized modelling, the one who arguably helped in part to orchestrate the rising waist lines of Equestria, Her boss, and most importantly friend, Extravaganza.
“I… sniff… I told you not to come in. Seeing what a disgusting mess I am. I’m not cut out for this work… I don’t know how I thought I could act, being a pile of useless lard. Surely, you didn’t come all this way out here just to sit in on my pity party?” The room was near silent, Extravaganza considering her words as her horn lit up, levitating a cloth over. With a few delicate rubs, she cleaned most of the mess from Bow’s face.
“Well, no, I didn’t come out here specifically for you. As luck would have it, there’s a fashion show happening a short while from here. Then I got a call from Berry.” Bow’s face fell again, her ears folding down. “After she got a few messages from that director, she’s been trying to contact you, and lets just say that calling her anxious right now would be putting it mildly.”
“I… I know. I couldn't face telling her… she’d just be so disappointed in me, bucking this up like I have… then actually seeing me here, laying in trash… where I belong.”
“Do you truly believe that? That you’ve become less of a pony over these last few weeks? Because from where I’m sitting, I’m only seeing one mare who’s missing one thing… one thing that I’ve always adored about you, from the day we first met.”
Bow paused, brushing a lock of hair from her eyes. “And… that is?”
“Simple. Your attitude.” Bow looked incredulous, opening her mouth to rebuke the point, but Extravaganza cut her off. “One of the things that really grabbed my attention was just how confident you were. Despite how large you were compared to other ponies, you didn’t care at all. You were yourself, ambitiously dedicated to it as well. You didn’t care how big you were, how messy or ‘rude’ you were. You… you didn’t give a shit… pardon my Prench.” She giggled a little, covering her mouth, drawing a thin smile from Bowstring.
“And that’s why you became a star, why so many were willing to follow in your footsteps. That honest, no-nonsense personality is why everypony adores you… and I'm sure you can get it back.”
“How… how do I go about that… I’m pretty sure most of the cast hate my guts.”
“Because you’re giving them fuel, dear. The reactions you gave just reinforced how much their barbed words hurt you. The simple answer is to just, not worry. I know this is a big deal for you, but if you treat this work like your life depends on it, this stress is just going to consume you. If you keep your chin up, and stay positive, nothing will get you down.” She smiled, leaning in a little further. “If some random retail worker gives you attitude, just remember that you’ve already won in life… You’re the one going to be on the big screen, not some deplorable ass working a dead-end job.”
“Ok… I guess I can do that… yeah… I think I could do that.” Bowstring picked herself up slightly, though still looking a little uncertain of herself. She smiled again, feeling Extrvaganza’s magic aura caress her cheek.
“We’ll work this out, as long as it takes my dear. And don’t forget, I’m going to be here for a while. If you need anything, anything at all, please give me a call. I’ll be over as soon as I can.” The two shared a smile, the darkness in Bow’s mind dissipating, like clouds in the sky, letting the warm glow of the sun shine down. For the first time in quite a while, she felt good. Another tear rolled down her cheek, a little bit of laughter bubbling from her lips. As her friend joined in, deep down she hoped that everything would just get better, and if what Extravaganza said was true, maybe this time her hopes would finally come to fruition.