Back on the restaurant floor, Zillion waddled his way to the counter, the baggy black pants of his uniform now not-so-baggy as they clung to his rounded rear. His belly brushed the register counter every time he leaned forward — a constant reminder of how fast he’d grown.

He’d told himself he wouldn’t snack during his shift.

He lied to himself.

Clutched behind his back in one paw was a warm burger — tiny compared to his growing appetite, but enough to soothe the needy rumble of his stomach.

His other paw held a takeout bag for a customer, greased fingerprints already forming where his chubby fingers pressed into the paper.

“ORDER NUMBER 4!” he called out, but it came out breathy, strained. “Huff… O-order… wheeze… 4, please!”

He felt his belly jiggle with every step as he shuffled to the pickup counter. Weeks of “free samples” had turned him into a soft, rounded marshmallow of an otter, each day adding another subtle swell — a fuller belly pouch, a softer chest, a thicker neck that now rested against his collar.

The customer approached, and Zillion panicked as he remembered the burger hidden in his paw behind him. He tried to stand straighter, but his belly pushed out further, giving him away as it pressed firmly into the counter edge.

He slyly tucked the burger behind his tail fluff — horrible hiding spot — but it was better than being caught mid-bite again.

The customer blinked at him, looking up and down at the stuffed uniform stretching over his middle.

Zillion smiled nervously, sweat forming under his visor.

“H-here’s your order… have a great huff day!”

As soon as the customer took the bag and turned away, Zillion whipped the hidden burger back into sight, stuffing it into his mouth with a relieved moan.

He leaned against the counter, belly sloshing softly, shirt seams whispering their final protest.

Working here was definitely making him bigger every shift.

And based on how fast he polished off that stolen burger… he was only going to get fatter.