There was that aching again. Hara knew it all too well. When she first experienced it a few weeks prior, she had passed it off as simple hunger. When eating failed to fill that little hole in her psyche, she would then run through the majority of her guilty pleasures, trying desperately to figure out just exactly what she felt was missing. When even that didn’t work, she had then turned to the only other point of contention she could think of: her friendships.

The aching grew stronger whenever she thought of Ventri. That lovely Lopunny woman… Why did Hara feel so unfulfilled whenever recollecting the time the two of them spent together? The longing certainly wasn’t birthed from hatred; no, that haughty-but-fun personality the rabbit had cultivated always left the fox grinning whenever they met. Nah, this aching had to have been due to the absence of something on Hara’s part, the lack of a gesture from her, the lack of a question burning in her subconscious, the lack of a…

A contest! How had Hara forgotten about it for so long? The Braixen never failed to challenge her friends to an eating contest once she had gotten to really know them. Ventri by all means should have been in the same boat, yet the gauntlet had gone undraped in this particular instance. Sure, the two of them had overeaten together, but that was far from an actual, no-holds-barred gorgefest. Competition was her signature display of companionship; no wonder Hara felt like she was slacking on her side of the relationship.

Well, that was sure to change real soon. It’d only taken a quick text message the morning before for her to lay down the rules and issue an ultimatum: Hara and Ventri were going to spar that night until they couldn’t hold a drop more. The grand prize? The ultimate smug feeling of victory over the loser. Ventri didn’t resist, and Hara didn’t expect her to. Now, as the sun began to approach the horizon, Hara made her way down unfamiliar streets to find the restaurant they agreed on. Zeroing in on her destination, the fox couldn’t help but practically march with all the swagger of a returning champion.

That confidence wasn’t unearned; she was known as the city’s bottomless pit for a reason. With her ego on the line, Hara was going to play to win tonight.

The eatery in question was a quiet one; an unassuming joint named the Johto Bistro. The Asian cuisine it served wasn’t anything to write home about, but it possessed the crucial quality of being all-you-can-eat, a mark the establishment wore valiantly even as its fox-shaped doom approached it. Hara’s stomach growled as she entered the parking lot, as if her innards were directly threatening the building for all it had.

It might as well had been threatening Ventri, too. Hara could spot the rabbit in her black dancer uniform clear as day, loitering in front of the building near a couple of soda machines. The Lopunny had evidentially chosen a classy style of dress for the occasion, contrasting with Hara’s normal streetwear. The Braixen paused as she inspected herself: A green jacket over a red crop top, with sandy brown athletic shorts completing the ensemble. Combined with her wide-framed red glasses, it was the perfect attire for a casual dinner outing. More so, it was the perfect attire for a true gastrointestinal workout. Hara stifled a snicker as she went up to the bun; amateurs always seem to forget to leave their stomachs exposed.

“Hey, Ventri,” she chirped with light sarcasm, “fancy meeting you here.”

“I could say the same to you,” scoffed Ventri, joining the act. “Why, what brings the great Hara Aiden to a rundown buffet like this?”

“Oh, I don’t know… perhaps it was just a bit of psychic influence telling me to kick your ass at eating tonight.” Hara, always a sucker for trash talk, stuck out her stomach to accentuate her boast.

“That’s my Hara, always believing herself destined for a win. Looking for someone to cut you down to size, aren’t ya?” Ventri then put a paw to her mouth, as if to stifle her own bout of dismissive laughter.

“In your dreams. I’ll binge circles around you and drink ya under the table as a bonus!”

“Well, that’s gonna be a tall order considering I’ll have eaten their entire stock before you can even blink!”

The two broke into small giggling fits, Braixen and Lopunny both trying to mask their true ambitions. Neither of them would admit it out of politeness, but both mons had a competitive streak as wide as they were looking to become that night. Even now, Hara could sense a sort of tension on the scene, one that would only dissipate once the contest truly began. It was almost like waiting for a stick of dynamite to detonate; both of them knew that if they didn’t stay on topic then their remarks could soon lose the veneer of irony keeping them from being actually hurtful.

“So,” said Hara, breaking the silence that had formed. “Is this one of those places you have to reserve seats at, or do we just walk right in?”

“I think it’s the latter,” replied Ventri. “Ready to get schooled?”

“Only if you’re ready to get obliterated!”

The two broke out into another fit of laughter, before giving each other a competitive handshake and entering the doors of the buffet.

“Hello, and welcome to the Johto Bistro. I’ll be your server for tonight, and…”

The words died on the Watchog waiter’s tongue as he realized who he was addressing. Instantly his head swirled with emotions; one of them would’ve been bad enough, but both of them? Here, together? At this hour? The mustelid was just about ready to leave his post (and the building entirely) in order to get away from the final two patrons of the night. Unfortunately, the waiter was trapped in a conversation he was unlucky enough to have initiated:

“Yeah, yeah, we know all how a restaurant works.” Said Hara. “Now get me a buffet ticket, will ya?”

“Oh, uh, c-certainly, Miss Hara. And I’m sure y-your friend here would appreciate ordering the s-same?”

“Absolutely.” Chirped Ventri. “Whatever size her buffet meal is, double it for me. I’m positively wasting away over here, and it wouldn’t be fair for *somebody* to hog all the food tonight.”

Hara’s glare rang clear from behind her glasses. “Yeah, well, take whatever she’s doubling and triple it for me.”

“Then in that case, *quadruple* my order-“

“Did I say triple, I think I meant sextuple-“

“Octuple-size me, actually-“

“Girls! Please!” cried the waiter, already exasperated. “We can discuss how much to bring you once you two are seated and have begun depleting our stock! Now, I’ll show you to your table, but could you at least make things easy this time for me?”

*Fat chance.* thought the two competitors in unison. What was unsaid didn’t hurt the waiter; the Watchog regained his composure, silently grabbed two menus and turned around, gesturing to the women to follow him deeper into the bistro. Hara sauntered ahead, as did Ventri behind her, past the entranceway, through the longue, into the buffet proper. 

The buffet, with open seating and uncovered food free for the taking, was still seeing renovations from the last time Hara had eaten there, most noticeably being the installation of a special booth in the middle of the room. This booth and table combo was made of noticeably sturdier material than anything else in the building, reinforced steel from top to bottom. For any other eatery it’d be a hard cost to justify, but for one frequented by the Braixen and Lopunny… it was easier than replacing broken chairs.

Hara was the first to break the uneasy silence as the two of them were promptly seated inside the metallic booth.

“How’d you like the seating, Ventri? I was told it was put in to honor me being a repeat customer.” The Braixen took time to bask in her accomplishment as she relayed it, proud of having ‘beaten’ the store enough times to require it.

“Oh, I’m sure it was.” Replied Ventri. “Hope it’s hardy enough to support the two of us.” Truthfully, the Lopunny didn’t care. Getting to break things was part of the fun, after all. Drumming one paw’s digits on the table, the rabbit waved the other towards the waiter. “Mr. Waiter! We’re ready to start ordering!”

“Oh, I’m sure you are.” Replied the Watchog, laying the menus down on the counter. “Just pick out what you like, and we’ll start bringing it to you.”

“Thanks again!” said Hara. “With your help, this eating contest’s going to go off without a hitch.”

“C-c-contest?” the waiter stammered. Struggling to steady himself, the Watchog just barely managed to avoid collapsing to the floor right then and there.

PLATE 3

The first few platters of rice and dumplings had gone down smoothly, mere child's play to the contestants. Indeed, the server that had brought them their meals had looked downright bewildered as they watched the two polished off the plates in record time. Even then the waitstaff could tell that the gluttons’ hunger ran deep that night; a hunger they wouldn’t possibly keep up at first. A lull in food preparation soon developed half a dozen plates in, just enough for the opponents to lay into a different kind of fresh meat: each other.

“How ya holding up so far, Ventri?” scoffed Hara, patting her belly. Already containing enough food to feed a good-sized family, the Braixen’s belly had bulged out to accommodate a slight, sensual curve that gave Hara a chubby look.

“Not too bad, string bean!” replied Ventri, running a few claws across her own gut. Any wrinkles on the Lopunny’s dress had disappeared, looking almost as if someone had slipped a throw pillow between her and the fabric. That plush was all-natural, though, and freshly warm to the touch. Even at this stage Ventri had to stifle a moan as she explored her tummy. “Hope you’re not too concerned with keeping up; we both know who’s going home with the win.”

“Oh, I’m sure we are.” Said Hara, her voice dropping a half-octave. The sudden curtness was uninvited but unsurprising; anyone who had dueled Hara in the past would note that this is where she’d… change, not in a physical way (besides the obvious one) but in her demeanor, growing harsher, more aggressive. ‘Eyes on the prize’ didn’t do it when describing the fox in this state. No, at this point it was as if she was entering a trance, her mind analyzing the food that was still yet to be placed in front of her, no longer invested in the taste. Hara was on the precipice of becoming an eating machine, and throughout the buffet the waitstaff could’ve sworn the temperature dropped a few degrees in anticipation.

Hara didn’t wait by the time plate no. 7 was brought to the table. Snatching a full meal of egg foo young out of the poor Watchog’s hands, cooked dough disappeared quickly past the fox’s maw to the point that she was almost neglecting to chew entirely. An empty platter was slammed down on the table, just seconds before Ventri was able to take a first bite. The Lopunny was briefly astonished by the rate of consumption she had just witnessed, before shrugging and plowing into a dish of kung pao chicken as hard as she could.

Whatever eating wizardry she’d just witnessed, she wasn’t going to succumb to it without a fight.

PLATE 37

The staff had finally found a rhythm. Some of the waiters would bring in food from the buffet proper, while others would take food directly prepared in the kitchen, forming a makeshift line near the backrooms. All of the combined work added up to a constant stream of food being sent to the metallic booth in the center of the establishment, a constant stream that was immediately devoured by the two hogs slowly growing within that table.

Make no mistake about it, Hara and Ventri were growing. Their stomachs, ever overloaded with cheap rice and meat, had begun to expand into their laps, their clothes creaking and aching with each inch they put onto their waistlines. Hara gut was well past the size of a soccer ball, yellow fur straining to cover her newfound rotundity. Ventri’s belly wasn’t far behind, looking as if the bun had suddenly entered the late stages of pregnancy with twins. Both of their bellies gurgled and groaned as they failed to digest the massive catch, a catch that only continued to swell as the duo entered their own rhythm of valiant gorging.

PLATE 96

Their stomachs had risen like great balloons, bloating outwards and onwards as the endless smorgasbord made their way into each of them. Hara’s medicine ball of a belly was smushed wordlessly under the table, warm flesh growing in private underneath the cold metal. From there, it would meet up with Ventri’s tummy, an enormously stuffed beachball of a gut that brought to mind a giant black chocolate truffle. Down there the bellies were practically communicating with each other, muffled moans ringing out between them in a guttural duet.

That duet was set to hit max volume as the pair dug into a massive pile of meat buns. Ventri’s love of the sweetmeats factored hard into her pulling out record times as she tore the foodstuffs apart like pinatas, competing not as an opponent, but as an equal to Hara’s ungodly gluttony. Hara responded by forcing back dumpling even harder, and the two became furry blurs that rivalled actual professional eaters. The staff swore they saw the buns disappear past the two whole; maybe it was just a trick of the light, who was to say for sure. Nevertheless, the table had contained 100 meat buns a minute prior. Now, it only held one.

One meat bun that the two women were both struggling to reach. Their colossal bellies had finally become a detriment to their eating process as neither of them could move past their guts. Arms outstretched, Hara and Ventri wobbled in their seats as they exerted all the movement they could to reach that final bun. For a minute the crowd of waitstaff stopped cold, their eyes dead set on the test of strength unfolding before them.

Who was going to swallow that final meat bun?

“Hah! Gotcha!” It was Ventri, with her extra few inches of height, that would make it to the bun first. Pounding the meat and dough back with perfect ease, she then leaned back and gave her ottoman-sized gut a proud slap. Her dress, fabric stretched taut around her waist, nearly gave way right then and there as her flesh reverberated from the percussion.

“Damn it all,” muttered Hara as she watched that fluffy little dumpling disappear into Ventri’s maw. This wasn’t turning out to be the easy stomp she had nearly expected it to be. Trying to hide her disappointment, Hara’s attention turned towards her own upset tummy, rubbing and kneading the yellow flesh as it practically begged her to. Fullness was beginning to rear its ugly head, letting her know that she was oh so impossibly stuffed. Hara, of course, welcomed the new challenge. After all, what was a stuffing session without feeling yourself get stretched out to max capacity?

Speaking of which, Hara could tell she wasn’t anywhere nearing her max. Her determination fired up anew, the Braixen slammed a paw back on the table.

“I thought this was supposed to be an all-you-can-eat! Bring out the good stuff or you’ll regret it!”

That snapped the staff out of their own trance. The food line would begin anew after that, and with it the opponent’s expansion.

PLATE 214

What was there to say by then? The buffet’s finest was brought in, Hara and Ventri ate it. The kitchen’s delicacies were brought in, Hara and Ventri ate it. You name it, the Braixen and Lopunny swallowed it as if they had fasted for a month beforehand. If it was in the building and was edible, Hara and Ventri ate it. Billowing out at a truly absurd pace, the waiters began to wonder if they weren’t somehow hooked up to air hoses somewhere below, their bellies filling out as real balloons as they swallowed, binged, and bloated.

Nah, they were far too heavy to have been filled with anything more than a buffet’s worth of foodstuffs. Ventri’s dress had finally exploded off of her, brown belly tearing through stitches and cloth alike in order to make the gut within loudly known. Meanwhile, Hara’s yellow blimp of a gut kept pace with her, filling out until it had looked like the fox had swallowed a washing machine, and then just looking like a big, oversized marshmallow. Both of their guts were nearing contact with the floor at this point, sagging past their knees as gravity took over. The staff debated on whether or not to remove the table from the booth in the coming hours, partially because the counter itself could be damaged by the rising tide of belly, and partially because they just wanted to see how much damage the restaurant’s finest meals were damaging their patrons’ waistlines.

PLATE 511

They eventually did end up removing the table, though at this point it was due to their guests having grown so bloated that they simply didn’t need one. Platters and dishes could be placed on top of Ventri and Hara’s big fat bellies, and they wouldn’t sink in one centimeter. There was no mistaking it, the duo had ballooned out to the point that their guts had become furniture in their own right, each bite pumping their bellies out across the floor a little further.

“Oof, I think my gut might be larger than me at this point.” groaned Ventri.

“You get used to it.” Said Hara without missing a beat.

Sushi, teriyaki, ramen, sake- all of it was plucked from the shelves and forced down the competitors’ happily awaiting muzzles.  Hara and Ventri were vacuums, compactors, bottomless pits- a world of culinary delights were brought to their lips, and unflinchingly, they gorged themselves.

PLATE ???

“Uhm, madams? We need to talk…”

“Oh, I’m sure we do.” Replied Hara with a drunken belch. “Let me guess, you’re going to mourn your precious restaurant again?”

“Er, about that…”

“Or maybe he’s here to grandstand his disgust for the sixth time!” giggled Ventri.

“Girls, can you let me speak for just a moment?” decried the Watchog waiter. “I have to update you on the status of your terrible little eating contest.”

“And what might that be?” asked Hara as she rubbed her paws across her gut. “If you need zoning permissions to continue building us up I’ll be more than happy to pay~”

“That’s the thing,” responded the weasel, “we can’t continue to fill you up anymore.”

“And why’s that?” piped in Ventri. “Last I’d checked, the buffet tickets were good for all-you-can-eat, and we definitely haven’t had all we can eat!”

“Yes, but you’ve still eaten it all, madams.”

“Pardon?” the contestants said in near unison.

“Look around you,” yelled the waiter, “you two gluttons have swallowed every last speck of food within the Johto Bistro!”

It was true. Both the buffet and the kitchen were picked clean, containers and boxes strewn about the dining area floor as the waitstaff resorted to just laying out the basic ingredients themselves and sending them to the contestants. Beyond that, the eatery was as spotless as the day it was constructed; every morsel, heck, every crumb of something edible that had laid in the restaurant hours before was now safely contained in either Hara or Ventri.

And they certainly looked the part. The Lopunny and Braixen were, for all matters considered, essentially connected to a brown and yellow waterbed respectively, their bellies having doubled their width to the point that laying on them was an easy possibility for any mon that dared try. Anyone that persisted in that regard would be happy to find that the similarities to a waterbed didn’t end there: Hara and Ventri’s guts moved in waves as their organs within struggled to digest the entire buffet in one sitting, groaning and gurgling as if an entire ocean was in fact stored inside them. Both of their hides were tighter than any mattress, too, their overloaded flesh finally growing taut with their hauls.

This, of course, wasn’t anywhere near enough to fulfill either of the duo’s desires.

“You can’t possibly be serious!” slurred Hara, slamming her hands onto her gut as a makeshift counter. “We paid for a full buffet experience, and that’s what we’re gonna get!”

“Yeah!” said Ventri, giving her belly a great big slap. “Does this *urp* look full to you?”

“Full?!?” shouted the Watchog. “I’d say you look like the biggest, fattest blimps I’ve ever had the displeasure of serving! I’d say you two look like off-brand parade floats that should be currently advertising this eatery! And to that, I’d say it looks like it’s about time someone rolls you overzealous food balloons home- “

The Watchog’s anger was quickly cut off by two paws wrapping themselves around his suit. Suddenly he was being pulled up close to Hara by the Braixen herself, just inches away from the muzzle that had consumed a solid half of the Bistro’s stock.

“Now, Mr. Waiter, I know we’ve been having a bit of a disagreement lately,” spoke Hara, her voice a few shades too calm compared to her grip on the Watchog. “But I’m sure we can work out an agreement. Surely that couldn’t have been all of the food this place had to offer, now, was it? Why, I saw some soda machines out front that definitely haven’t been emptied yet. Why don’t you bring those drinks out to us instead? Or else…”

“E-e-else what?” replied the waiter.

“Else we’re just going to have to make a tiebreaker meal out of you.” Hara opened her jaws wide to illustrate her point, a sharp mouthful of fangs grinning happily at the now-horrified waiter. Eyes darting around worriedly, the Watchog was even more terrified to realize that Ventri had joined in on the fun, her maw on full display for the subordinate butler.

“W-why yes, I-I’ll bring the drinks out at o-o-once!” The waiter was freed from Hara’s grip at that, and from that very second he’d hit the ground running, darting past the duo’s bellies and running out the door towards the vending machines as if his very life depended on it.

“Good thinking there, Hara!” said Ventri, patting the Braixen on the back.

“It was nothing,” hiccupped Hara, “besides, we definitely needed some kind of tie-breaker to decide who’ll win.”

“Maybe, though I’m not sure how a few measly cans of soda will act as a final challenge? You know we’ll suck them down without a fight.”

“I know soda alone isn't gonna cut it.” Said Hara as she fished around in her pockets. “But with a little of this, I think it’ll make for a good decision round.”

Hara held out a paw to Ventri, showing off the mystery ingredient. Scotch mints, more commonly known as Mentos, lay in her palm, wrapped and ready to be devoured.

“Hara, you mad genius- “

“Yeah, yeah, I’m the best and everyone knows it. Now start swallowing before the waiter gets back.” Said Hara as she shoved a small pile of mints in Ventri’s face. “You’ve come this far against me; now do you think ya can pass one final endurance test?”

Ventri’s certainly acted like it, taking the Mentos and popping them like pills in an attempt to get them into her gullet as quickly as possible. Hara chuckled and began swallowing her own pile of scotch mints in accordance with the Lopunny. 

Soon, the Watchog would reappear, huffing as he carried an armload of a variety of soft drinks. Setting them down on a nearby table, he then came to his senses and instead placed them down on the opponent’s titanic guts.

“Okay, I’ve got every drink the machines had sitting atop of you two.” Pleaded the waiter. “Now, if you finish these off will you two think about leaving already?”

“Don’t worry, my guy.” Said Hara, cracking open a cola. “We’ll be gone in a flash before you know it.”

It wasn’t too much a relief to the waiter, but it was something. With a reluctant sigh, he sat down to watch Ventri and Hara chug their way through several dozen sodas in the span of minutes, each contestant belching excitedly as they made it to the next can. 

“So whaddya think?” cried Hara to Ventri as she shotgunned two cans of drink at once. “Largest one around after this is crowned the champion?”

“I like *urrrpppp* the sound of that!” cried Ventri back, practically inhaling soda as she prepared for the inevitable.

The inevitable could not resist making itself known, however. In the air was a new sound, a high-pitched whistle that emanated from within each contestant. None of the waitstaff could properly place it, but it brought to mind the sound of a kettle about to hit a proper boil. Maybe they were simply driven mad, but the staff could swear they could see the Pokémon expanding before their eyes…

They were. They absolutely were. Several gallons of pop were finally mixing with the half-digested rolls of scotch mints, and the result was a completely unreal amount of fizz building up within the Braixen and Lopunny alike. Once more the duo’s stomachs began to expand, crawling past floor tile after floor tile as their widths inflated out. Eight feet… Nine feet… the opponent’s bellies were long since bigger than the rest of them were by this point, filling like bounce houses and creaking twice as hard. One could be led to believe that the two women had been hooked up to pumps behind them, whirring away to fill their bellies with arceus-knows-what. 

“Oh, yeah!” cried out Ventri, feeling her innards grow stiff and pained with gas. “I’m going to outsize you in the blink of an eye!

“In your dreams,” snapped back Hara. She couldn’t deny the overwhelming sense of fullness now encompassing her body, yet with the threat of max capacity bearing down on her she couldn’t help but even now run at it full speed. “I’ll outgrow this entire building if I have to!”

But they were, simply put, both running out of room to grow. The swelling in their guts began to stall, first at nine-and-a-half feet, then at ten. Growth was imperceptible at that point, instead replaced with a wall of sound reverberating from within the opponents. It was the sound of rubber being stretched to its limit, glass on the precipice of shattering, and steel on the verge of bending all mixed into one, and that noise seemed to drown out everything else.

“Say your prayers, Ventri!” shouted Hara above the cacophony.  “I’m the biggest blimp in town, and I always will be!”

“Stop lying to yourself, Hara! I’m the reigning food balloon around here, and you’ll never even dream of catching up to me!”

Deep within, a final burst of stretching unlocked itself within the two Pokémon, and with the last of their strength their bodies swelled and swelled, filling out to their limits and beyond, growing tighter…

And tighter…

And tighter still…

*~BANG!~*           *~BANG!~*

For the briefest of seconds, the room was filled with two mammalian blobs, one brown and one yellow. They were tight as drums, twice as noisy, and as it turns out, just as fragile. Hara and Ventri were gone in the succeeding seconds, poofed into a barrage of furry scraps with a wet, resounding snap. The resulting shockwave knocked over chairs and waitstaff alike; the windows, ever so accommodatable, went with the flow and blew out quite eloquently into shrapnel across the parking lot, a definite hazard if it weren’t long past the middle of the night by then. For another solid second, it was mass chaos inside the Johto Bistro, and then finally another second had passed, and all was silence and smoke.

The Watchog waiter had picked this moment to rise from his hiding place behind one of the tables, surveying the damages and cringing as he had no choice but to admit the restaurant had taken a ballooned beating in addition to being cleared out. Piles of scraps littered the halls in just about every nook and cranny. It would take hours to clean up, and that wasn’t even accounting for any damage to the furniture.

Still, cleanup would have to start somewhere. Sighing to himself as he rose to his feet, the Watchog attempted to give only the most exemplary of commands to the other staff in an attempt to take control of the situation:

“Somebody get a mop.”

Maybe he’d have a chat with management later, see if he couldn’t convince them to remove the buffet option from the menu this time.