The afternoon hours of March were especially temperate that day. This was enough to make Chomby want to go on a walk around the city -- an activity he seldom got to participate in. Since Sarge wasn't wearing him today, he thought he'd ask Sarge to join him.

"A walk?" Sarge asked while looking between two sodas in his hands. "Yeah, I suppose I could. Been working at this new flavor for a bit too long."

"Flavor?" Chomby asked. He walked over and rested his chin on Sarge's shoulder while resting a hand on Sarge's head. He read the label and wrinkled his snout. "What's a macaroon? Isn't it one of those fancy, French desserts that just use egg whites?"

"That's a macaron. This is a macaroon, a cookie that's made with shreds of coconut in it. So, it's got a bit of a coconutty, vanilla-y flavor."

"You just said the same thing twice," Chomby sneared and lifted his head from Sarge's shoulder. He tried to reach down to grab a soda, but Sarge pulled it away.

"As much as I'd like to give you a soda, given your proclivity to somehow drink them anyway, this one's a bit dangerous to do right here," Sarge chuckled. "It's a bit of a mixer from some of my doughnuts. Still haven't decided on a name for it yet." Sarge sighed and closed his eyes.

Chomby eyed the sodas before looking back at Sarge. "Maybe I can help? You helped me name my last song. Why don't I assist here? What's it do?"

"Well, it's got effects based off a few of my bakery items. Dim Danishes, Macro Mulberry Bismarks, and a dash of the Peary Punch soda."

"Wait, macro?" Chomby asked. "You had macro doughnuts this whole time and you didn't tell me?"

Sarge looked down at Chomby's hands, then up at Chomby. He raised a brow. "Gee, Chomby, I wonder why I didn't inform you about my macro doughnuts."

Chomby confusedly followed Sarge's gaze. He noticed he was holding a bottle in his hand... and it looked half drunk already. "Oh, when did that happen?"

Sarge quickly grabbed Chomby's hand and rushed outside. "Clearly while I was talking. You seriously don't know you're doing it? You're quite a klepto."

"Only for your sodas," Chomby admitted. "Can you blame me for-" Chomby felt his body shift slightly. Sarge's hand seemed to shrink from around Chomby's wrist. He also felt his belly begin to gurgle. Looking down, he noticed that the ground was starting to get further away from him, albeit slowly. He assumed it was at about an inch per second.

"Well, big guy, guess now's as good a time to try them out, huh?" Sarge grumbled. He popped the top off the soda he currently had in his hand and began to chug it. Within a matter of seconds, he'd downed the whole soda.

"Oh, guess I'll finish off mine, then," Chomby said in a sing-song tone. He lifted the bottle but found it was hard to hold onto with his growing hands. He managed to empty the rest of the drink into his mouth before accidentally crushing the bottle under his fingers. "O-oops."

Chomby looked over to see that Sarge was, very quickly, doffing his clothes while his belly expanded outward and his body began growing up.

"So, macro sodas?" Chomby asked. He turned around and noticed he could easily see the top of the roof, now that he was almost ten feet tall. He felt his cheeks flush with excitement as he could feel his belly begin to sag toward the ground. The changes seemed to be moving along more quickly than before.

"A little more than that," Sarge said while placing his hands on his belly and rubbing it. Chomby noticed Sarge's tail begin to wag.

"Enjoying yourself?" Chomby asked. He wanted to lean in close to Sarge but found his belly was already pressing into the werewolf.

"Not as much as you seem to be," Sarge smirked. He gestured to Chomby's tail, which was currently wagging. Chomby was unaware of this.

"Well, I just, uh..." Chomby folded his arms indignantly and tried to stand at his full height. But leaning back made him almost lose balance so he had to take a step backward. He heard a loud thud as his paw hit the pavement, narrowly avoiding Sarge's car.

"C'mon," Sarge said. He grabbed Chomby and dragged him away from the house. With each footfall, the pair continued to grow. By the time they made it into the street, Chomby noticed he was looking over the tops of the trees surrounding the yard.

"Where are we going?" Chomby asked.

"Open field in the outskirts of town. No buildings to-" Sarge lifted a hand to his head and winced, "agh, shoot. Already starting."

"What's starting?" Chomby asked as they walked down the street. Several onlookers watched in what Chomby could only assume was awe.

"I... uh," Sarge scratched his head. "Gah, hard to think. Listen, this soda was meant to be a macro himbo vibe."

"Macro... himbo-?" Chomby felt a sharp... something in his head. It wasn't pain by any means, but it felt like someone had driven a metaphorical spike into his cognitive ability. That spike then began to slowly turn and implant itself deeper into his thoughts, making it harder to think. "Gah, what... is... this-"

"Dim Danishes, Chomby," Sarge said. "Theys my dumbening... dumbering... dumbening?" Sarge continued to scratch his head as he led Chomby further down the street. Chomby began to notice that the street was becoming very narrow at this point.

"Uh, Sarge, what is... erm... whats we do now? Street be shrinkering. I thinks." Chomby winced. He knew he was supposed to know the words that were coming out of his mouth, but they only started to sound like gibberish to him.

The two only managed to get to an intersection in the middle of the city before the sides of the buildings began to brush against their bellies. Sarge tried to push himself through but only managed to fall backward and land on his rear. Chomby, thinking he was supposed to do the same, sat down next to Sarge.

Sarge looked over at Chomby. "So, me sodas good? You like?"

Chomby tried to think of a word to respond with, but he had trouble thinking of any. He just nodded and leaned over. He stuck his tongue out because he remembered he couldn't smile to show his affection. Was tongue sticking out a good thing? He couldn't quite remember.

The two continued to grow as the street became narrower and narrower. Pretty soon, Chomby could feel his belly squishing into the side of the building, and into his warm, giant friend. He rested his head on Sarge's shoulder and closed his eyes.

Sarge chuckled. "Happy... uh... Macro... macar... Macaron March? No. That not it. Uh..." Sarge shrugged and leaned his head to Chomby's.

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It's Macro March! Woooo! Whenever I do macro stuff, I tend to enjoy a bit of int drain as well. Gives you a big, not-so-bright lad with a penchant for being a lovable, big goofball. SO, enjoy Sarge and Chomby enjoying Macro March together after trying one of Sarge's "Macro Macaroon" sodas.

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Sarge/Chomby/Art/Story (C)  Juntarhenogu Me