Something quick and dirty done for Fat Timon Week. In this case, Timon gets more than he bargains for when he adamantly refuses to take a warning, and then a curse all too seriously. I'd be clever about this, but sufficed to say, there are big consequences for not taking even a little warning. And that saying sorry may not be too overrated.


.:Rated general for:.
>WG
>>Massive WG
>>Immobile
>>Slight Belching
>>Growth
>>Macro Fat

Timon & Pumbaa is © Disney.


Word Count: 3215

If you enjoyed the story, feel free to comment and fave, I'd really appreciate it.

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The Grubs of Wrath

“Hey Timon, the sign says-”

“I know what it says Pumbaa, but it’s just a distraction, trust me on this.”

“I know, but the sign says-”

“I don’t care what the sign says ya mook! It’s more of a suggestion anyways.”

“Alright, but the sign says-”

“ENOUGH ABOUT THE SIGN!”

Jeez, as if it wasn’t already a bother walking on forbidden land without a big ol’ warthog reminding you every two seconds. Forbidden? Puh-leeze! It’s just a big log with some really yummy bugs in the middle of a jungle clearing. What could possibly be forbidden about that?! “Timon?” Pumbaa spoke up.

“I swear, if this is about the sign…” Timon seethed.

“Why are we here anyways?” the warthog inquired while nervously looking about.

“Didn’t I tell ya? I got a tip-off that the bestest, most tastiest bugs in the world are found under that log over there” the meerkat explained.

“But isn’t it forbidden to eat them? Cause the sign says-”

“I don’t care about some old sign. I mean what could be forbidden about some grubs huh? Look, if you’re that worried, you go back and I’ll uh, I’ll bring you some” the conniving little mungot promised.

“You better not. Cause the sign says-”

“Fine then ya big palooka! I’ll just have them all to myself then” Timon declared in absolute frustration. “So you go off and do other things while I have a meal of a lifetime.”

“Mmmokay” the swine declared in relief, and scrambled off leaving a big dust cloud behind him.

“Yeesh, he’s acting like he’ll explode if he eats one or something” the meerkat said, rolling his eyes. “Now then, onwards to glory” he grinned, rubbing his hands together as he approached the big old log.

Grunting hard, Timon’s feet dug into the ground as he hefted it up, revealing an array of the most delicious and slimiest golden grubs he had ever set eyes on. “Hoooo boooy” he said gleefully, a waterfall of drool careening down his chin as he picked one hefty grub and slurped it up. “Oh lord have mercy” he declared, a hand to his chest.

How could he ever eat anything again when something so heavenly had blessed his taste buds? Everything else was buffalo dung in comparison to these. Oh he just had to have another, and another, oh and another! He could eat these all day, even though he was getting a little bit of a belly from them all. Eh, one good sleep would fix that. “YOU FOOL!” an authoritative voice boomed.

“Huh?” Timon mumbled, a grub hanging from his mouth.

From among the writhing grubs one arose, wielding a scepter and the most majestic beard the meerkat had ever seen. “I said “YOU FOOL!”” the grub repeated itself.

Slurping the morsel up, Timon’s brow raised as he regarded the weird bug. “And uhh, who the heck are you supposed to be?”

“I am the KING OF THE GRUBS! And you have broken my sacred edict by trampling the sacred ground and partaking of my most treasured subjects” the King of the Grubs grandly declared.

“And uhh, what makes you so special, exactly?” the meerkat snorted, grabbing another grub and gobbling it up.

“CEASE THAT! And I’m special because I am king! And for your blasphemy you must be punished!” the little insect barked.

“Heh heh heh, yeah, punish me, that’s a good one” Timon chuckled as he gulped down another grub, and rubbed his well-fed middle.

“Do not take us so lightly you infidel! The Wrath of the Grubs strike like a hundred- No, a thousand- No, like a MILLION TONNES! Your guilt will weigh on you so heavily you will be begging for our forgiveness, but we will have none for violating our sacred ground and consuming our kin!” the King proclaimed.

“Eh, I can live with that” the meerkat shrugged, and then he ate the King. He went down pretty easily, and aside from the beard was actually tastier than the others. “Heh, feeling guilty for eating bugs. Puh-leeze” he snorted, picking his teeth with the grub’s tiny scepter.

Flicking it away, Timon laughed loudly, not even noticing his full belly inexplicably flatten. “Oh man, wait until I tell Pumbaa about this!” he chortled as a golden sheen ran over him.

________________________________________

The warthog had managed to make do with resting in a cozy glade, with a bowl of crunchy bugs with wings. They just had the best crunch to them. “Hey Pumbaa!” his friend called as he sauntered towards the hog.

“So, how did it go?” the swine questioned like an upset girlfriend.

“Oh Pumbaa, buddy, you really missed out. Those grubs were out of this world. Nothing will ever compare again. I mean if I died now, I would die a happy meerkat” Timon waxed lyrically.

“And you weren’t cursed or nothing? Cause I mean the sign said-”

“There was no curse! I mean there was something this bearded grub said about “my guilt will weigh on me like a hundred thousand million tonnes” or some hullabaloo like that until I apologize or beg for forgiveness or whatever. But I didn’t take him too seriously. He was pretty delicious too. Wish I had kept his scepter, cause I think I got a little something in my teeth” the meerkat grumbled while picking between his teeth.

“I mean, you probably should apologize, if they asked you too. It was pretty rude of you to intrude when the sign said-”

“STOP WITH THE SIGN! And I’m not going to say sorry to a bunch of grubs!” Timon asserted.

And unbeknownst to him as he kept picking at his teeth, the meerkat’s body started to… swell. Timon’s sandy white front blorped and thickened, a sizeable paunch stretching before him while his hips broadened, widening his stance by an inch or two. His blubber noticeably sloshed about as he continued to pick at his teeth, completely oblivious to what had happened as his twig-like body inflated. Pumbaa, however…. “Uh, Timon…?” he began.

“Yeah buddy?”

“You sure you’re not going to say sorry?” the warthog asked.

“I told you, I am NOT sorry for eating some grubs” the meerkat declared, and to make the point clearer, he adamantly folded his arms.

There was a ripple through his body, and a heaving sound as Timon bulked, his chubbiness turning into full-blown lardiness as his belly became a gut. His rear likewise blimped into soft roundness, giving his lower body a spherical shape with some fat bunching around his ankles. And somehow, against all odds, he didn’t even notice his chest fattening against his folded arms, which were looking rather plump themselves. If there could even be a shape to describe him, the meerkat could only be described as having eaten a very large pear whole. For all over he had become quite plump, and his best friend could only shake his head in dismay, especially as he swore Timon had just gotten taller. Maybe by an inch or two? “Timon?” he said slowly.

“What is it this time?” the meerkat grumbled, placing a hand to his broader side, causing his blubber to slosh about.

“I think the curse might be real” the warthog observed.

“Pfft, yeah right Pumbaa. I mean, aside from that crazy old baboon cursing my tail that one time, there’s no such thing as curses” Timon asserted.

“But look at you Timon! Every time you say you aren’t sorry you swell up! Don’t you see it? You’ve turned into a balloon!” Pumbaa exclaimed.

“Huh, the heck are you talking about?” the meerkat muttered, looking down at himself. “WHOA!” he cried, his eyes bulging out of their sockets. “That… this is… that stupid parrot! He didn’t tell me the grubs were extra fattening! It’s going to take me a whole episode to work this off” he complained.

“It’s not the grubs Timon. Y-you gotta apologize to the other ones, or you’ll keep blowing up!” the swine warned.

“If I told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times: I am not sorry. I am not sorry! I AM NOT SORRY!” the meerkat screamed.

A loud RUMBLE filled the air, following by a BLORGE and a POP! Pumbaa scrambled backwards as Timon’s body trembled, and as if being a connected to an air pump he started expanding faster than before. His bulbous belly blorped by leaps and bounds, spreading inch by inch, new folds and creases forming in his rapidly filling figure with a depth forming around a newly noticeable bellybutton. Tucks curved along his hips, with more gut spilling and spreading over the sides while his sides likewise sagged over what little bone structure he had. A noticeable impasse was found between the two struggling forces, forcing a slightly bunched shape in a belly that was more than a little well-fed. It sloshed noticeably with lard, much like the twin-spheres expanding under his thickening tail, the base of which was steadily sinking into his widening cleft. The meerkat’s bulked bounced about, still sloshing away as his chest heaved into view, his blubber jiggling in the wake of his newly minted moobs swelling with gusto. Even his arms looked heavier, with lard hanging off of them like bats hang from trees. And with the slightest moves wads of blubber along his shoulder line fought with each other, large colonies shifting and bunching about as they sought whatever space they could get. Lastly, with all of this, the growth from before hadn’t been a trick of the imagination as Timon grew taller, his squat figure unchanging even as he doubled, and tripled in height. He stood tall over the warthog in both height and weight; a literal walking, talking bean bag. “UUUURRRRPPPPPPP!” Timon belched wetly, bits of drool going everywhere. “See?” he said, pressing his sausage fingers deeply into his churning lard. “This is all just a mild reaction to some good food” he said dismissively.

“That’s not food related, and believe me, I know tummy troubles” Pumbaa said shakily. “This is a curse that won’t go away until you say you’re sorry, because if you keep saying you aren’t-”

“I am not cursed! Here, I’ll show ya! I’m not sorry! I’m not sorry! I’m not sorry! I’m not sorry! I’m not sorry!” the meerkat furiously repeated five times over, stamping his foot and bouncing his gut on each declaration.

His entire body rippled and wobbled, compressing and stretching before BAWOMP! The grass all around him rocked the sudden force exploding out of him; even Pumbaa took cover behind a rock as Timon cautiously kneaded at himself, which there was an awful lot of. Plenty. Sufficient. Excessive. His sides groaned from the weight piling onto them, budging inch by inch as if trying to compete with his growing height, keeping him contained in such a ventripotent yet squat look, his gut cascading in front of him like a landslide. A deepened tuck formed in the front, his navel growing deeper and deeper as his belly grew broader and broader. His broadness was getting so ridiculous his stripes were being pulled thin just to make up for all the extra space being put onto him, a deep crease spreading between his flabby hips and gut and bunching on his love-handles. The meerkat’s blubber rocked and sloshed with greater intensity, the sound of his wave-like lard growing louder by the second as his rump inflated with the stuff, like water balloons. They bounced practically of their own accord, as if each jostle pumped them up fatter and rounder, his stumpy tail now a third of the way into the depths of his crack. Now six feet tall and still growing, Timon’s moobs rested pretty on his well-packed middle, a nice squishy cleft formed between the two heaving mounds that rose and fell with his heaving breaths. The very tops of his ta-tas gently tickled his bulbous chin, which was slowly lowering itself down to them as his cheeks plumped, rounding out his formally egg-shaped face. “GUOOOORRRRRPPPPPP!!!” the meerkat belched loudly, his entire body shaking and knocking him off his ailing feet.

Landing his flabby back to a rock, Timon looked even fatter as everything bunched up on his prone form. His blubbery thighs poked out either side of his belly, like shepherds herding a flock of lost adipose sheep between them. Their owner grunted loudly as he tried to get comfortable enough, and did his best to not look bothered as he dug a fat finger into his bellybutton and dug about searching for a non-existent itch. “See?” he said to the warthog that had come out of hiding. “No problems here” he said in utter denial.

Pumbaa was both a little afraid and in awe of the sheer girth of his friend, who would have given all those sumo wrestlers he faced in past a run for their money. “Can you even walk like this?" the swine inquired, prodding Timon’s massive gut.

The meerkat’s flab quivered like water, ripples of blubber spreading across the hedonistic mass called his belly. “Oh yeah, absolutely buddy. I’m just uhh, taking a break. I had a big meal y’know? I uhh, gotta sleep it off” Timon lied with a fake yawn, which was getting drowned out by the churning of the fat.

“Timon, I know what you’re gonna say, but I really think-”

“That I should be sorry? Know what Pumbaa, and everyone else who can hear me? I am NOT sorry! I will NEVER say sorry. I will never BE sorry!” Timon shouted to the heavens.

And the heavens shouted back, as a CRASH of lightning spread across a clear sky. “Ooo boy” the warthog said and hightailed it out of there as the meerkat’s body started shaking violently.

“Pumbaa?” Timon said quietly, reaching out a pudgy hand.

In order to put into context what happened next, imagine bread baking in an oven. Or microwaving a Peep. That is the only way to truly imagine it as the meerkat’s body began such a rapid expansion. In mere seconds he was outgrowing the rock he was leaning against, waves of back fat squeezing around and smothering it as he went past seven feet, then eight feet, then nine feet, then ten! His helpless legs flailed as his gargantuan gut consumed whatever was left of his lap, a gray goo of his own making as rings of flab spread around his calves and ankles. Timon seemed almost helpless as his belly seemed to weight him down like the world’s wiggliest anchor, his lard still sloshing away as it rocked about like he was full of fattening water. And yet in all this, even as his moobs kept growing vastly, and his arms kept getting fatter, yet feeling smaller on his body, he still managed to get up. This was achieved by the rock he was leaning against jabbing into his hippo-sized rump, which was still bloating by the second. “YIPE!” he squealed, launching up into the air.

He got some good distance before crashing back down, the ground beneath him fracturing into a sizeable crater. “See Pumbaa?! Told you I could walk!” Timon declared as he took several haphazard steps forward.

Each slow and wide step left a deep imprint in the soil, with each new one getting bigger and deeper than the last. Now more belly than meerkat, Timon stubbornly kept going as his lower body rounded into such a gargantuan mass that was threatening to take the pride outta Pride Rock. His belly was bigger than the biggest boulder, and was just as wide in the front as his enormous ass was in the back. Both sides rolled like the waves, still sloshing and churning loudly as they rocked with his awkward waddles. And yet somehow they didn’t fully overwhelm him ever as his chin even in neutral nestled between the comforting cleft of his meerkat mammaries, each one the size of a luxurious mattress, with some useful bug storing space in the flaps below. This wasn’t quite the priority though, as Timon was more focused on moving ahead, while slothfully waving his heavy arms about to keep branches from hitting his face. It was a slow march through the jungles, with small trees brushing against his elephant-sized belly, and his ten-foot long feet trampling everything in his path. And behind was nothing but a trail of destruction as this mammothine meerkat tore his way through, his ears brushing the highest of leaves as he came close to towering over the canopy. Not the best thing really, as the bumbling mountain managed to wedge himself between two trees. They pincered his sides, which blorped around them as he continued to get fatter, and fatter. Their trunks creaked from the massive weight born between them, and they only got louder as Timon grabbed both of them and struggled to push himself through. He grunted and groaned loudly, fighting for his freedom while the squished fat was threatening to engulf his head. “Not… ngh, AGAIN!”

Pushing with all his might, the meerkat popped free like a cork. Flying through the air, he landed in a roll that didn’t stop until he ran down several more trees. Lying in a pile of broken chunks, Timon huffed loudly as his arms lay in a T-pose, while his middle spread over his useless hips, which were only saved by being held aloft by his squishy rump. A hearty amount of his middle spread between them, a fluffy disc forming on the torn ground as his flab spread forwards and upwards. His belly swayed slowly from side to side, but was always in view as it looked keen to continue rising high into the sky. “Yeesh” he groaned to himself.

And from somewhere in the devastation, Pumbaa trotted out completely unharmed. He sat down by Timon’s massive head, the meerkat’s maw vast enough to eat him in one gulp. But by the looks of him, he didn’t seem keen on anything so soon. “Well?” Timon sighed.

“You know what I’m going to say” the warthog pointed out.

“And you know what I’m going to say. I’m NOT sorry” his titanic friend repeated.

Another quake filled the forest, and the meerkat’s gut rose further towards the sky, his hips rising further as his rump looked vast enough to park a bus into. Fat tucks formed along his arms, especially around his shoulders and elbows. And he wasn’t sure, but Timon could swear birds were nesting in his navel. “How ‘bout now?” the warthog spoke up.

“Nope, not sorry!”

He grunted as what used to be inches of gains became feet, with his massiveness soon pressing up to the trees he hadn’t destroyed yet. “Now?”

“Still not sorry” Timon sang in frustration.

It was hard to say how long this went on for, to be honest. But later that day the International Space Station found itself orbiting over Africa, and the astronauts were surprised to find an unusual sandy-white mass growing out of the continent. And by their estimates, whatever this mass was, it was still growing at a pretty steady rate. Debates had already begun whether or not it was going to be declared the Eighth Wonder of the World.