Commission for  brokendestiny, about the cult classic Dog City. Ace Hart's alter-ego tries to foil Von Rottweiler's villainous scheme, but soon, the weight of his heroic responsibilities will catch up with him!

Characters © Jim Henson
Story © c'est moi

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Watching over the sprawling skyline of Dog City was the city’s own canine crusader himself, a pillar of justice and strength, Wonderdog, the alias of Dog City’s most famous gumshoe, Ace Hart. Faster than a speeding bulldog, more powerful than a packed of pumped-up pups, able to leap tall fences in a single bound—

“Hey, hold up a sec, here!” Wonderdog declared, shattering the fourth wall with no regard for subtlety or tact. “You ain’t Elliot. Who are you?” he demanded of the unbelievably charismatic and good-looking narrator.

“Answer the question!”

I’m Renard, the guest writer. You’ve seen an uptick in popularity as Wonderdog, so I’ve been tagged in to write a story. Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll get along great. I’ve got big plans for you.

“You say that very ominously.”

Oh, I know. But I’ve already been paid, so we’re staying the course. Wonderdog stood up on the rooftop, the moonlight illuminating his gargantuan form. His tight, spandex outfit complimented every bulging muscle, from his sprawling plateau of a back to his arms like battering rams, melon-sized biceps mashing against his mountainous—

“Hey, uh, flattering as that all is, you’re going to an awful lot of detail on my body.”

Well, of course. That’s what I get paid for. I specialize in big, beefy guys getting bigger.

Wonderdog paused for a moment as he finally got a clue. “Aw, crap, this is fanfiction, isn’t it?”

A superhero and the world’s greatest detective. Just stand there and look pretty, I’ll take care of the rest.

“Jeez, this is going to be all kinds of degrading, isn’t it? If you try any of that Japanese hentai crap, I quit.”

You’ll be fired if you keep interrupting me. Back to the story, Wonderdog, that titan of canine muscle, was hunting down the roguish fiend, Baron Von Rottweiler. Rumors abounded of his latest scheme, and Wonderdog had managed to track the fiendish rogue through several fake accounts that he had used to buy up half of Dog City’s bakeries. Whatever he was planning, it could only be trouble for the canine citizens Wonderdog was sworn to protect.

“Heh, okay, I get it,” the hulking dog paused to flex his arm, bicep swelling up to the size of a small hill. “All this muscle’s for cleaning Von Rottweiler’s clock. I can get behind that.”

And you doubted me. Wonderdog rushed through the city to hunt his nemesis down, closing in on the warehouse district. There, among the industrial landscape, he found his quarry. Wonderdog stalked across the roof of Von Rottweiler’s hideout, and spotted the villainous dog through a skylight. His ears twitching, Wonderdog honed his super hearing to catch his nemesis’ plot.

“Haha!” the rottweiler was laughing with glee, gloating as he ran his hand over a conveyor belt full of delectable-looking cookies. “Vith ze addictive formula baked into zese cookies, I, Baron Von Rottweiler, vill be able to take over all of Dog City, vhen it is filled vith nothing but obese znackhounds too bloated and veak to defy me!”

Wonderdog paused, not sure he heard that right. “Rottweiler’s gonna fatten up the whole city with laced cookies? That’s twisted, even for him!”

Winding up his battering ram of an arm, Ace punched through the skylight and lept into the warehouse. Lumbering over to Von Rottweiler, dwarfing him as he let his mountainous shoulders bunch up and his wing-like back muscles flare out, Wonderdog hefted up the villain in one arm with little effort. “Alright, Baron. Surrender right now, or I’ll punch you so hard, your grandkids’ll feel it!”

“Oh nein!” Von Rottweiler begged, dropping his monocle. “It seems I am undone by Vonderdog… I surrender! But first… don’t you think zhis varehouse looks familiar, ja?”

Ace narrowed his eyes as Von Rottweiler gave a knowing smirk. He peered around the cavernous industrial complex, then gasped as he spotted the fiend’s henchman, Leon, grinning toothily as he hefted the same hose, hooked up to the same radioactive water that had turned him into Wonderdog ages ago.

“Hey, stop!” the superhero commanded, but Leon had already turned the spigot. Trying to think fast, Wonderdog lept out of the way, as the spray of water hit Von Rottweiler full in the back.

“Ja!” Von Rottweiler chuckled darkly. “Vudnerbar! I feel ze power!” he roared. Stomping forward, he flexed his arms, and Wonderdog could only stare in horror as the sleeves of Von Rottweiler’s tailored suit burst off of the evil canin, arms rippling with new, bulging muscle. With a wide, toothy grin, Von Rottweiler stared Wonderdog down as he grew bigger and bigger, his clothes bursting off and leaving him in nothing but a pair of royal purple posers that hugged his increasingly thick, muscular hips.

“Hey, what gives, Mr. Guest writer?” Wonderdog snapped. “This wasn’t how the fight was supposed to go!”

I said I specialize in making big guys bigger, Ace. I thought this would be an obvious turn of events.

“Yeah, but—” Wonderdog was cut off as Von Rottweiler landed a punch, now strong enough to leave an impact as Ace was left reeling. The villain roared from the adrenaline rush, raising his arms up in a defiant pose. His chest surged forward, cliff-like pecs jutting past his muzzle, and biceps so engorged they pressed against his cheeks, framing his face with meaty muscle.

“Hah! No longer ze uberhund, ja? You can give zhe punches, but cannot take them!”

“You’re right about one thing, Von Rotface!” Wonderdog leapt up, rolling his sprawling shoulders before returning a hit, shattering Von Rottweiler’s monocle as his fist connected with his face like a battering ram. “I’m real good at landing punches!”

The two monumental canines collide, like mountains crashing against one another. With their gigantic muscles grinding against each other, grappling and throwing all their awesome strength, it seemed they were matched to a standstill.

“Hey, Ren!” Wonderdog grunted, struggling with Von Rottweiler as their beefy chests collided. “When’s my turn to grow, huh? This is getting awfully close!”

Oh, don’t you worry, we’re getting to that.

Ace soon realized that he and Von Rottweiler were perfectly matched in strength and size, but one advantage was still his; he had experience carrying his titanic strength, where the villainous hound had only just acquired it. Focusing on his form, the titanic hero managed to put Von Rottweiler back towards the conveyer belt laden with the laced pastries.

“Give up, Von Rottweiler! The jig is up!” Ace declared.

“Oh, nein, nein, do not hit zhe face!” the evil mastermind begged. “Would you not first like… a victory znack?”

Wonderdog wasn’t prepared for Von Rottweiler’s hit. The hulking hound swung his clenched fist, and slammed a fistful of his cookies into Ace’s mouth.

“H-hey! What’s the…” Ace trailed off as the flavor hit him. It was oatmeal and raisin. Nobody liked oatmeal and raisin. And yet, it was amazing. The flavor was sweet and nutty, and it still tasted warm, as if it had just come from a sweet, doting grandmother’s oven. Still ruminating on the flavor, he shook his head, realizing that Von Rottweiler was still standing there. “Alright, thanks for the hospitality, Rotface, but it’s time you— oof.” Ace clutched his stomach, fingers rubbing against his bulging abs. He was starving. Had he forgotten dinner?

“Another, mein freund?” Von Rottweiler smiled toothily, offering a plate full of cookies. “You had zhe oatmeal und raisin, vhich is hardly mein best… here. Try zhe chocolate chip und caramel stripe…” He stepped forward, holding the tray under Ace’s nose, practically balancing it on the shelf of his pecs. “I zhink you vill find them to your liking.”

Ace’s mouth watered as the tantalizing smell wafted into his nose. His hand automatically went to the plate, but then he snarled, smacking the tray away. “I’m not here for a tea party, you creep!”

As the tray went clattering to the floor, however, Wonderdog felt a powerful urge to scoop up the fallen cookies and devour them. With one last look to Von Rottweiler, he dived for them.

“Hey!” Ace called indignantly. “What kind of heroic behavior is this supposed to be, Mr. Guest Writer, huh? What sort of bozo eats food off the floor?”

You’re a dog, aren’t you?

“...Fair point.” Ace grabbed the caramel and chocolate cookie, and gobbled it up, muttering something about the five second rule. The taste was amazing; overwhelmingly sweet, intoxicatingly so. The chocolate was rich as cream, and the caramel smooth as silk. In that moment, an almost animalistic urge came over Wonderdog; he had to have more.

“Hahaha!” Von Rottweiler laughed maniacally, planting a foot on Wonderdog’s mountainous back and flexing his arm, biceps swelling up and pressing against his clenched fists. “Look at zhe great canine crusader now, eating mien table scraps! Zhey vork! Zhese cookies vill let me conquer zhe vorld, even if it vill be a little flabby vhen I do!”

“You won’t- mmph- get away with this!” Ace sputtered between bites. Von Rottweiler’s servant Leon was standing at attention with a tray, quickly being emptied by our hero.

Von Rottweiler smiled wickedly. “I already have, Vonderdog. Zhese cookies have been zent out to every bakery I own in zhe city. Zoon, every dog in Dog City vill be begging me for more, even vhile zhey grow too fat to oppose me!”

“You maniac!” Ace found the willpower to stand up again, pushing the cookies away. “You think I’m just gonna stand here and gorge myself on sweets?”

“Or, you can go out to zhe city and attempt to foil mien plot. Either vay, Vonderdog, you vill let me get away scot-free,” Von Rottweiler gloated.

“We’ll see about that. I’m gonna get those cookies, Rotface, and when I get every last one, I’ll track you down and make you eat your last desserts!” Wonderdog declared, rushing for the door, but not before grabbing two more cookies from the tray Leon was still holding. “These are just for the road! For energy!” Wonderdog shouted, a weaker lie he couldn’t tell.

“Hey! I’ve had just about enough out of you!” Ace shouted, in a rather stupid move against the person who controls his dialogue.

“I’m serious, you’re a hack! Elliot would have never let me fulfill my dreams of being a pretty fairy princess!” he declared with complete conviction.

“Fine,” the heroic dog conceded, learning his place. “We’ll call it a truce.”

That’s what I thought.

Wonderdog didn’t have much time if he wanted to stop Von Rottweiler. It was already late in the night, and bakeries tended to open up in the wee hours of the morning for the benefit of early birds. He still had his list of Von Rottweiler’s assets, so the only move forward was to scour the bakeries one by one and liberate them of their laced cookies.

“Yeah, thanks for writing a plot that can only be done the hard way. Do you know how many bakeries there are in the city?” Wonderdog snarked.

The ones owned by Von Rottweiler? Fifty two.

“Oh, is that all?” Ace rolled his eyes. “Right… let’s start with the closest one. What am I supposed to even do with all those cookies?”

Try to buck up. I’m sure you can think of something to do with them. You seemed to like them well enough when you were licking the crumbs off the floor.

“You’re just as twisted as Von Rottweiler, do you know that?”

You think I’m bad? You should see my clientele.

Ace’s first stop was a working class coffee and donut place called Buddy’s Bakery, almost always open, and a particular favorite of the superhero’s. It was frequented by what Ace considered his crowd, but he had no time to ditch his disguise before he charged in.

“Buddy!” Wonderdog shouted as he threw open the door. “If you got any cookies delivered recently, don’t even touch ‘em!” When he spotted Buddy, his face fell. “Oh, crap. Buddy, you didn’t.”

The owner and namesake of the bakery had never been a svelte man. But the golden furred blob behind the counter was almost unrecognizable. Buddy’s shirt and apron were straddling a massive pair of moobs, while layers of belly fat were spilled over the top of the counter. Buddy hid his hands behind his wide back, but the crumbs flecked all over his round cheeks and multiple chins was evidence enough. “Uh… what cookies?” the retriever offered lamely.

“Oh, jeez, Buddy… look at you!” Wonderdog approached the counter. “Did you eat all of them? They were laced!”

“L-laced?” Buddy yipped, making his whole body jiggle. “With what?”

“Nothing deadly. I need you to focus; do you have any left?”

“...No?”

Ace leaned on the counter, his pecs fitting over the shelf of belly fat almost perfectly. “Buddy, don’t lie to me. Do you have any left?”

The retriever sighed. “...Yeah, about a dozen. I was saving them for myself.”

“Hand ‘em over, Buddy. They’re dangerous.”

“Uh…” Buddy gestured to the back. “Could you get it? I can’t really…”

“Can’t bend over?” Wonderdog folded his arms, biceps digging into his pecs.

“...I don’t think I can walk, actually.”

Ace rolled his eyes, collecting the dangerous pastries. “You know, Buddy, you could join a gym. You weren’t exactly skin and bones before this.” He came back out, giving the retriever one last look over. “Just… take care of yourself. I got a job to do.”

Wonderdog was back out in the city, leaping over the rooftops as he scoured for more bakeries. The dozen cookies he took from Buddy didn’t last long; his willpower was no match for that taste and delectable aroma. Already, his spandex suit was starting to feel a little tight around the middle, as his thick abs were beginning to fill out.

The next bakery was closed for the night, and thankfully, its entire supply of cookies was untouched. Here, Wonderdog left a note explaining the situation, and quickly absconded with the spiked snacks. With the hefty crate under his arm, now, the aroma was practically overwhelming. He stopped on one rooftop and set the crate down. He realized that, with fifty bakeries left to de-contaminate, there was no way he could carry all of them, no matter how strong he was. Where would he keep them all, where no one else could get them?

Then, Wonderdog realized that, to save the city, the answer was staring him in the face.

Ace frowned. “No it isn’t!”

Yes, it is.

“It is not! I’m not doing it. You can’t expect me to eat all of them!”

Do you want to save the city from Von Rottweiler, or not? You can’t punch cookies into submission.

“I’d never even think about it!”

You’re doing so right now. You’ve already got one in your hands.

“Gah!” Wonderdog threw the cookie down. Then immediately picked it up again. “I’m not eating another one!”

After that one, you mean?

Wonderdog glared, his mouth still full from the cookie he had just devoured. “...Fine. But I won’t like it!”

Yes, you will.

“I can’t hear you!” Wonderdog lied, digging into the crate, angrily stuffing cookies into his mouth.

He reached the tenth bakery an hour before dawn, with even the earliest of birds still only just waking up. Wonderdog was starting to feel a little winded as he pushed into the supply room, where another box of cookies was waiting for him.

“This is nuts, Ren,” Ace muttered.

No, I think you’ll find they’re still cookies.

“You’re funny. Real funny-looking.”

And you’ve gained weight.

Ace glowered at that. His arms and chest were still powerful and strong, still roped with heavy muscle, but they had lost a lot of their definition and firmness. His middle, however, had gone straight to pot. A round belly was poking out of the ends of his spandex suit, which could only stretch so far. By his count, each crate had twelve baker’s dozen of cookies, and after ten crates, that amounted to over fifteen hundred cookies devoured in so many hours, and unfortunately, it seemed to be going to his thighs a bit as well, filling his pants to the point of bursting, making it hard to run as his augmented thighs began to roll off each other.

“This is getting ridiculous…” he muttered.

As soon as he opened up the crate, however, the aroma hit, and Ace lost all sense of restraint. His hands worked methodically, feeding cookies into his mouth like clockwork. The sensation of that taste on his tongue felt so good, and for cookies that had been sitting in a box, he still felt so… warm. Content. A quiet voice in the back of his head told him he could stay like this for the rest of his life. Just eating, relaxing, that unbelievable taste always dancing on his tongue, and forever surrounded by that amazing aroma...

But no amount of comfort could keep him from his duty as a hero. Also, he finished off the last cookie. Leaving another note, Wonderdog groaned as he pulled himself up, his belly jostling and sloshing. It definitely felt heavier.

“This is gonna be a really long day, isn’t it?” he groaned.

You have no idea. Why don’t you help yourself to a bear’s claw while you’re here? For the energy.

“Shut up,” Ace grumbled, even as he snatched up a bear’s claw. And helped himself to a cup of coffee to keep going. “You’re going to write out a part where I get back in shape, right?”

That depends on who pays me. You should see what’s happened to someone popular, like Nick Wilde.

“‘Someone who’s popular’? What’s that supposed to mean?” Ace growled.

Don’t worry about that. You’ve got forty two more bakeries to get to.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it, I’m on it. Wonderdog to the friggin’ rescue…” the dog grumbled as he lumbered out the door.

It was the beginning of the morning rush, and Wonderdog had reached the halfway point of his efforts to save the city from its own stomach. There were two blessings at this point; one, Ace had already eliminated half the supply of spiked cookies, and two, it was still the early morning, and few people were in the habit of eating cookies for breakfast. But, it also meant that people were now witness to Wonderdog’s descent into gluttony. He could hear sniggering and mutterings of “chowhound,” “thunderthighs,” and “flabby fido” were increasingly frequent. As he lumbered into the bakery, pushing other customers aside with the size of his belly alone, Ace was just trying to keep his cool. His arms were still solid enough, but the rest of him had gone noticeably pear-shaped. His chest was like two bags of flour resting on top of a boulder, while his now-massive gut was hanging out of his spandex, thighs as wide as treetrunks slapping against the overhang. His rump had ballooned in size and was ready to split his suit, each butt cheek bouncing with each step.

Panting slightly as he approached the counter, Wonderdog looked down at the cashier, grimacing as he felt his muzzle dig into a second chin. “Hi. Get me every cookie you got,” he grumbled.

“You, uh, sure you need all that?” the cashier asked.

Ace levelled a glare at the employee. “Hey, don’t ask questions, I’m friggin’ Wonderdog and I’m saving the city.”

“So I take it you won’t be paying, then?”

“Put it on my tab,” Wonderdog grumbled as the crate was passed over to him. He lumbered out of the bakery just as quickly, and as soon as he was out of sight of the cashier, he dived into his prize, shoving fistfuls of cookies into his mouth, moaning in pleasure as the taste hit his mouth.

“I’m not moaning in pleasure,” Ace shot out, his mouth still full.

Then what would you call it? Groaning in ecstasy?

“I’m gonna get even with you one of these days,” he gasped, summoning his strength to carry on to the other twenty five bakeries.

I am shaking in my boots, Ace, I assure you. Of course, I can still see mine.

“Shut it!”

Bakeries twenty six to thirty eight were easy affairs, even if it was getting increasingly for him to squeeze through doors and keep up a good pace. The pounds were piling on, but Wonderdog wouldn’t let Von Rottweiler win, not when he was so close. But when he came to bakery thirty nine, he noticed that there were less cookies in the crate than there had been in the others; the breakfast rush was officially over, and people were starting to drift in for mid-day snacks. Wonderdog had prevented a city-wide obesity epidemic, but who knows what would happen if even ten bakeries were able to sell all their laced cookies? Someone might eat all those cookies before Ace could! The thought horrified him.

“It does not! I’m tryin’ to grab all the cookies for their own good!” Ace countered defensively.

Of course you are, Ace.

By the time Ace had hit his last ten bakeries, he was starting to realize that the remaining supplies were dwindling, and it showed on the patrons. None came anywhere to his mammoth size, but it was evident that they had eaten far more than his fair share, from merely overstuffed to chubby, to truly obese, with fat piled on, spilling out of ill-fitting clothes that had been comfortable mere hours ago. The damage was localized, however; Dog City wasn’t about to roll over just because Von Rottweiler waved a treat. But his own gorging sessions began to grow smaller, and soon, bakeries only had a dozen or less. As time went on and the pattern repeated, Ace realized something; he was getting hungry. His stomach, now massive, was actually growling for more. And by the time he squeezed himself into the last three bakeries to check, any pretense of his previous muscular, heroic form buried under an avalanche of fat, he realized to his horror, that all the cookies had been sold.

He had to find more. His belly demanded it.

Waddling through the streets, his costume fitting him much like Buddy’s old clothes fit the obese retriever, Ace summoned up the last of his heroic strength on a desperate march back to Von Rottweiler’s warehouse. There had to be more cookies at his hideout; Von Rottweiler was planning to feed the whole city, he couldn’t have done that with one shipment alone, no matter how delicious those cookies were, no matter how much Ace yearned for one more bite.

Wheezing and panting, he made it at last to the warehouse. Catching his breath, he saw his prize. Cookies were still piled on the conveyor belts, still waiting to be packed away, but his keen eyes spotted a new addition; a gigantic, white blob, plopped right at the end of the conveyor belt. Moving closer, Ace marveled at it; it was nearly as big as him, and covered in fur. Prodding it elicited a groan. Waddling around it, Wonderdog saw the blimped up face of Leon, Von Rottweiler’s retainer.

“Well… guess you couldn’t resist either, eh, Leon?” Ace smirked, dimpling his round cheeks.

Leon groaned, whimpering as his stubby arms swaddled in fat desperately tried to reach for the stream of cookies just out of reach.

“I think it’s my civic duty to cut you off, Leon,” Wonderdog grunted, throwing in his last vestige of super strength to roll the white ball of blubber out of the way. Eagerly turning on the machinery, his mind overwhelmed with the prospect of getting one last taste, the gluttonous canine plopped himself down in front of the conveyor belt. “Here, let me clean up; I insist.” Smiling wide, he opened his mouth and let the cookies flow in. It was like heaven; nothing but being caressed by that warm, intoxicating aroma, while every flavor of cookie danced on his tongue, each one sweeter than the last. His eyes glazed over, and in his ecstasy of his vast, hopefully endless treat, Ace’s mind slipped away for hours, intent to have every last cookie in the warehouse all for himself.

“Vake up, Vondervhale!”

Ace groaned awake, and his bleary eyes were met with an empty conveyor belt. He tried to sit up, but found that his legs only scratched against his doughy soft sides. It was then that he realized in horror that wherever he looked was his own, vast body, spread out in all directions. His all-consuming gut had taken up several square feet, sprawled across the warehouse floor in a tidal wave of brown and tan fur. His belly buried his legs in a landslide of lard and his arms, so swollen with lard they were now wider than they were long, could barely move, with love handles the size of lesser dogs pressing them up from below, and sheer waves of fat coming off his marshmallow-soft chest pinning them down from above.

Grunting and valiantly trying to move, the corpulent canine turned to see Von Rottweiler, still possessing the god-like physique Ace had sported just a couple days ago. Leering at him, Von Rottweiler smacked his blubbery flank, sending ripples of fat racing up his body. “You know, I vas quite annoyed vith you, Vonderdog. You foiled my plan, but in doing so, you have delivered me yourself! Who vill save you now? You are mine!”

“Quit the dramatics, Rotface. This is just… temporary bloat!” Ace shot back.

The villainous hound smirked. “You tell yourself vhatever you need to. You vill never see outside this varehouse again!” He held up one last delectable cookie, and immediately, Ace’s stubby arms reached out for it, desperately whining for another taste. “Fetch, doggie!”

He threw the cookie to the ground, and cackled as Ace struggled to reach it, rocking his whale-like proportions to tilt his body down.

“Look at you! Pathetic!” Von Rottweiler gloated, moving to the back to observe Wonderdog’s bulbous rear end, two massively oversized hills of blubber holding up a pyramid of back fat rolls, slowly rock back and forth, wobbling as he smacked them. “This is your life now, Vonderdog! Eating mien table scraps!”

Mouth watering, Ace had rolled onto his side just long enough to grab the cookie. But as he shoved it into his greedy mouth, he began to tilt backwards.

“Zhis is the beginning of a new era! I, Baron Von Rottweiler, vill be unstoppable! I am still powerful, und strongk, und I vill… nein, not zhe face!”

The villain’s monologue was cut short as a brown and tan furred avalanche hurtled towards him as Ace fell back into his immobile position. His monumental weight came crushing down on Von Rottweiler, burying him under all the fat he had tricked onto his heroic nemesis’ frame.

Satisfied with himself, Ace rocked back and forth as best he could, literally rubbing his fat folds in the villain’s face. “Hey, Rotface— you feeling the weight of your crimes yet?”

Von Rottweiler groaned, only able to utter one last phrase before he was muffled out by more of Ace’s voluptuous body. “Curse you, Vonderdog!”