Midday was just creeping in in San Fransicolt. Light glinted and sparkled off the bay, the cool blue waters softly shimmering. The impressive red bulk of the Golden Stable Bridge sparkles under the powerful glare of the sun overhead, fit to boil most ponies where they stood, or sat in the cast of Bowstring. Whilst these conditions would have reduced her to a sweaty mess, the effect upon her was weakened considerably, aided by her brand-new scooter. Whilst it was obnoxiously branded with stickers relating to Berry Pie, they still didn’t discount the amount of little gadgets and functions packed in. Large vents were emitting constant gusts of chilly air around and under her body, complimented by a wide parasol that shielded the worst of the heat. Of course, both of these were being perfectly supplemented by the onboard milkshake dispenser, a tube pumping a wide range of cool, creamy, and exceptionally fattening shakes right into her belly.
A smile was upon her lips, as she cruised along the pavement, eyes flicking between watching the bay and other ponies, very much enjoying the gradual change she’d been privileged enough to bear witness too. It hadn’t been easy, trying to pick herself up after the mental abuse she’d suffered through, the pangs of those interactions still within her. But unlike before, these were now distant echoes, failing to force their way back in. With Extravaganza there by her side, they’d worked through those problems. Her confidence grew, aided by the gradual transformation working its way through the city.
Glancing to her left, she saw a pair of mares walking side by side, bodies pressed together despite how far their heads were from one another. Both were near enough immobile, each taking clumsy, plodding, shuffling steps, their enormous thighs rubbing together regardless of how wide they were spread. Each had an enormous tub of ice cream cradled in an arm, occasionally taking a scoop out and slurping it up, or very occasionally feeding it to each other. Melted ice cream dribbled down their chins and cheeks, adding to the sticky mess on their ill-fitting clothes and breasts. “Do… puff… do you think we should… uurrrppp… buy some of those new clothes from Extra… phew…vaganza’s line?
“I guess… they did… wheeze… look good. I gotta sit down… my legs are… pant… killing me.” The other replied, finding a bench available on the sidewalk. The term bench, however, was rather generous. The traditional wooden benches had instead been replaced with concrete blocks, moulded into a smooth, ergonomic shape, perfect for cupping the behind of a several hundred pound equine. Their friend soon joined, the pair continuing to gorge themselves, letting loose discordant, bassy farts. Bow looked away, just about managing to avoid crashing into a small wall running beside the path. Adjusting the controls, she looked around more carefully, pausing to let a scooter-bound stallion trundle from a doorway, belching loudly as the machine descended down a few steps, joining a small procession of mobility related devices.
Sights like these were common enough in central and east-coast parts of Equestria, but had only recently begun to happen in San Fransicolt, with Bowstring and Extravaganza both to blame. The pep talks and constant assurance that Bowstring was offered was a great confidence boost, but the influence the flabby fashion designer had pulled was quite astonishing. A massive advertising campaign for a new clothing line had been a big start, local papers and magazines filled with confident mares and stallions, comfortable about their enormous sizes. Alone, this may have turned a few heads, but the real kicker had been Bowstrings emotional shift. Within a few days of returning to set, the usual jeers and sideways comments died out quickly, the pegasi’s almost permanent confidence and energy cutting through the negativity like a scythe through straw.
No reactions at all. Infact, she quite often does the exact opposite, taking the insults as compliments instead and thanking the person. This attitude too bled out into the streets, and many took notice. No longer unsure and aggressive, the positive influence melded perfectly with Extravaganza’s campaign; as was planned. It was genuinely quite shocking how easily ponies could be influenced to think and act, what trends to follow and what media to consume. Of course, the hyper addictive nature of Berry Pie’s food didn’t help matters either, more branches popping up to meet the ballooning demand, just as sofas were being crushed by enormous, trumpeting backsides.
In no time at all, the average weight had shot up dramatically, many going from having reasonable mobility, to shambling, near-immobile crowds of fast food addicted fatties. The sudden rush of excitement and pleasure they felt as they chowed down upon piles upon piles of food mounted, needing more and more to be satisfied, as did their hunger and stomach capacity grew to accommodate. Like thick, doughy batter pooling in a cake tin, so did their desire for more caused the average waistline to spiral upwards in width. Fatter, and fatter all around everypony was turning into great, wobbling butterballs. Even those who’d been so vocal about their distaste for slobbiness had soon found themselves amongst those who’d they’d been insulting just weeks prior.
Destiny was a perfect example of this. Taking a trip to the restaurant the day before, Bow saw just how much the mare had changed. Whether she became immobile or not was difficult to say, her dark blue body was packed tightly behind the counter, the great swaddling rolls forcing themselves onto the countertop. Her uniform, despite being exchanged for a far larger set, was in a poor state, as seams popped and buckled, great welts emerging in the tight fabric, her flesh all eager to ooze through the holes, forcing the fabric to buckle that little bit extra. Her immense ass packed out the rest of the space behind her, the twin tufts of her red and black tail fluttering like flags in a gale as she shamelessly released fart after fart. Courtesy of Berry Pie’s restaurants having free food for employees, a small pile of empty bags and boxes surrounded her work area, much of the detritus spattered across her puffed up complexion, her thick jowls and cheeks sloshing with each word and belch. Though she was still the same sarcastic pony, her attitude has overall improved, not caring about the conditions at all, simply content to gorge on hyper fattening junk food and press a few buttons on the register.
Taking a turn, she cruised along, watching as the Film Studios came into view, looking very much the same as the day she first arrived. Moving up to the gates, she gave the guard stationed in the guardhouse a small grin. The stallion looked up from his enormous burger, condiments and grease trailing up his face, returning with his own smile. Moments later, she was through the gates, approaching the front doors, the automatic mechanism sliding them apart. Despite how wide the gap was, it was only just enough to allow Bow in, her engorged flanks millimeters from grazing the frames. Regardless, she made it in, rumbling onto set.
It had changed much throughout the month or so she’d been filmed, with a great many of the pieces switched out and reorganised for new shots and scenes. All of the damage she’d unintentionally caused was all but fixed, the scars of which were hidden out of sight. Technically, Bow had actually finished all the parts she needed days or even weeks ago. She should have already packed her bags and headed off back home. However, a new issue had arisen, in response to the sudden influx of food; continuity. A key point in any media, be it books, tv shows, games and movies is consistency, which helps to convince anyone watching. Any significant changes had the potential to ruin audience immersion. Be it plot, visuals, or indeed, the characters themselves. As those working on the set found out, Nopony was immune to the seductive pull of food, the actors included.
Everypony, including Freeze Frame. True, the mare before hadn’t been particularly thin. But now she was one amongst the hundreds she’d already seen today, borderline immobile. Sitting upon a reinforced chair, Bowstring could see how her figure had exploded outwards. Much like herself, the icy blue pegasus had developed a bottom heavy figure, her enormous hips and thighs melding together with huge cushions of adipose. Even the mare’s considerable belly and rolls couldn’t conceal them from the front, each oversized cheek swelling outwards. Speaking of belly, it was just about contained by her costume, the great plates of metal, loops of chainmail and strips of fabric helping to conceal the mass of tummy she’d gained.
Even so, it was hard to ignore just how much area they were forced to cover, how much extra material had to be used to remake the costume to fit her new form. Even so, Bowstring could see how much her body was fighting against the hard, confining plates, how her flesh squished and forced its way into any available space possible. Even her helmet had to be altered, her doughy cheeks and jowls the chief culprits. A huge metal fan was close by, one of many employed since the heatwave began, great volumes of cool air breezing across Freeze as she slurped at an enormous bucket of soda, looking up as she noticed Bowstring approaching. She didn’t say anything, pausing in her consumption. Bow could see a great deal of emotions twitching at her features, how her smile fell slightly; not into a scowl, but one of sadness, regret even.
The relationship the two shared had always been quite tense, ever since their initial spat the day they first met one another, souring into resentment along with the rest of the stage crew. However, once Bow had come back from her short break, things changed once again, the attitude she exudes fighting back against the negativity around her. Tensions settled, and outside of scenes on set, Freeze didn’t say a word to her. Bowstring gave a polite nod, spotting Montage off behind a table of props. Pressing forwards, she moved past Freeze and…
“Bowstring?” She stopped abruptly, jolting in her seat. Turning her head the best she could, she followed the voice to its source, watching as Freeze Frame eased herself to her feet, panting and wheezing as she did so. Bowstring was shocked, blinking as Freeze waddled over to her side. “I… I just want to say that I… uurrrppp… I… I’m sorry. Sorry for all this hostility over the last few months, I…” She trailed off, sighing and pulling off her helmet, letting her curtain of hair billow out.
“I told you… pant… that I am a professional, an actor that… huff… will put her all into whatever I’m doing. But… but that extends beyond work. My attitude to the work itself was sound, but the way I treated you was horrid. I talk about professionalism, but there I was, making snide comments behind your back like a child. I guess… I guess I was just venting the frustrations I've been building up for so long. But then, you changed, and, and that changed me too. You were… happy, being as big as you were, and then I noticed how everypony else was becoming just as happy and content with themselves.” She took a moment, letting out another shuddering breath.
“I’ve spent so long just living on the minimum I need, not indulging myself because I believed it was ‘unprofessional’ to do so. I just tried some of the snacks left in the break room… and…”
“And?” Bowstring finally responded, licking the lips of her dry mouth.
Freeze smiled, spreading her arms wide. “And I loved it. It felt so good to indulge, to let go and have some fun… just felt so exciting to me.” Reaching down, she grabbed one of her rolls, squeezing it and moaning. “Nnnrrfff… oh it feels so good! Just to enjoy yourself, just to say ‘buck it’ and eat a cart full of pizza. To not care as you devolve into an eating machine. To not care about the way you look, sound or smell.” She smiled, raising her leg slightly, a fart bubbling up from behind her. Even with distance, Bow could smell the rather sweet, yet pungent aroma, heavy with the cloying mixture of half digested pastries. Freeze, meanwhile, looked content, her lips upturned as she let out a deep sigh.
“It’s all so liberating, and it’s filled a big hole in my life that I could never seem to fill otherwise.” Reaching out a hand, she extended it towards Bow. “For what it’s worth, thank you, Bowstring.” Bow looked at the appendage, easily making her decision in a split second, wrapping her own around it.
“No problem Freeze, no problem.” Shaking, the tension in the air dissipated at once, Freeze Frame looking more relaxed than she had done for months. “And hey, I’m going to hit up Berry Pie’s later today. You want to come with?”
“Buck yeah!” She exclaimed loudly, clamping her hand to her mouth, noticing other ponies looking over to the commotion. Laughing, Freeze dropped her hand, Bow joining in a moment later. Even if the reshoots were going to be more effort, at least she had somepony friendly to work with.
“Buck yeah. Now come on, we’ve got a movie to make.”