i havent gone into the provolone family tree on this blog but does anyone remember my bestie lemon. his sister pimientos present-day descentant penne is like. a Cartoon Movie Scientist who dabbles in made up bullshit
[unintentional belly expansion, tummyache, hint of burst teasing]
Penne looked down at the new batch of her latest project, exhaustedly rubbing her face. Scattered across the tray before her were dozens of bright orange pills. They were small and simple, indistinguishable from any other pill in the medicine cabinet. These, however, were unlike anything Penne had stashed away above the bathroom sink. They weren't a remedy for pain or sniffles or allergies. No, these little orange capsules were created to solve an entirely different problem: hunger.
The project had begun a few months ago after another long, hyperfocused night at the lab. It wasn't any different from any other night at the lab; Penne was notorious for going entire busy nights without eating. She was simply too busy and too absorbed in her work to step away. That night, however, the idea had crossed her mind that it would be so much easier if she could simply pull a meal out of her pocket and toss it back without interrupting her work. She'd thought about that, and then she'd thought about how many people such a creation might potentially benefit, and then she'd set off to work. Without a snack break, of course.
After several trial runs with increasing success, Penne thought she might finally have something close to a finished product. She felt confident that they were safe to test on herself; she'd worked out any alarming kinks a handful of attempts ago, and the most recent batches had been perfectly harmless, albeit not particularly filling. Now, as she looked down at the tray of little orange pills, her exhausted, work-fried brain began a debate with itself.
It's a new batch, her brain said. We should just start with one.
The formula is barely any different from the last, it argued.
But it could be different enough.
It shouldn't be. We barely altered the density of it.
It would be dangerous and idiotic to start with two. What if it's too much?
But if one isn't enough--and I doubt it will be--we'll have to wait even longer to try it with two.
Patience is a virtue. Whatever happened to lab safety?
Fuck it. We're trying two.
Penne picked up two of the little orange capsules, hesitated for a moment, and then, with a quick swig of water, she swallowed them. She sat still for a moment, holding her breath as she waited for something to happen. For a few moments, nothing did. Then, slowly, she felt her empty stomach begin to fill up as the capsules released their expanding mass of nutrients. Gradually, her hunger faded, and it wasn't long before she felt full. And then very full. And then stuffed. Her heart fluttered nervously in her chest as her normally concave belly began to puff out round and firm. Shit, she thought.
The growth didn't seem to be slowing. Her stomach continued to distend, pushing out hard as the mass inside it expanded. She was well beyond stuffed now, and her belly felt painfully tight as it bloated up even more, pressing out against her baggy shirt. Her belt, snug around her normally narrow waist, creaked as the pressure beneath it grew. Frantically, she reached down and undid it. Moments later, her expanding belly forced the button of her pants open.
An ungraceful cry of panicked discomfort escaped Penne as her stomach stretched rapidly, and her back arched as her belly pushed out further and further. She felt the air that had been trapped in her stomach begin to bubble up toward her throat, and she forced up a burp in a desperate attempt to release some of the pressure building inside her. It didn't help. She clutched her stomach, gasping with panic. It was rock hard, packed tightly with the ever-expanding nutritional mass.
As her stomach began to reach its absolute limit, Penne shut her eyes, bracing herself for the worst. By some miracle, though, the expansion slowed, and, mercifully, it finally stopped. She remained frozen for a moment, holding her breath, and then, when she was sure it was over, she let herself relax. She couldn't relax too much, though; her belly was so tightly distended she could barely move. It ached terribly. She let out a pained moan, cautiously rubbing her taut, top-heavy belly.
She was almost afraid to look down at herself, but she did. Her belly jutted out shockingly beneath her ribs. Her shirt, which had been loose and wrinkled only five minutes earlier, was now pulled smoothly over the painful bulge of her bloated stomach. With barely a pinch of spare fat to speak of on her lanky frame, her belly had absolutely no give left to it.
Carefully, she tried to stand, but her overstuffed stomach cramped sharply, and she quickly dropped back down into her chair with a pitiful moan. Her stomach, hugging the enormous mass of not-quite-food for dear life, let out a strained gurgle. She sat there, belly sticking out absurdly, hoping nobody came along and saw her. I told you so, her brain scolded. Groaning, she let her head fall back and closed her eyes, resigning herself to a long night of digestion.
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