The bell RINGS above me as I enter the pizzeria, my usual lunch spot. Stale slices sit on display in the glass oven behind the greasy counter. An oil-faced teenage girl appears and flashes me a fake, brace-clad smile. Her dour hair is up in a net behind a plastic sun-visor baring the company logo.
"Hi," the acne-scarred 15 year old quacks through a cleft pallet, "what can I get you?" Her chest is flat, her mind dull.
"I'll just take a slice."
She scratches her hairy neck before going to get my order when there's commotion from the back.
"Julie!? Julie she's here!"
Workers rush about, the staff showing more urgency and attention than a Formula 1 pit crew. One cook, a 56 year old grandmother, begins preparing multiple pizzas across 4 kilns, even throwing in a few store bought. The driver, an Indian who barely speaks English, is on the phone trying to order delivery from Domino’s, Pizza Pizza, Royle's Pizza, Papa John’s, Pizza Hut, Little Caesars, Godfathers and New Orleans and ordering dozens of every topping from each. The skinny Julie girl who was serving me seems to have completely forgotten I'm here, she’s bringing out a hand-truck stacked with crates of pop. Coke and Pepsi, Dr Pepper, Orange Crush, Cream Soda, A&W Root Beer, Red Mtn Dew and Iced Tea. Another kid struggles not to slip on the newly cleaned floor as he carries boxes of onion rings, panzerottis, garlic bread, mozzarella sticks, pasta, piling it all up on one of the preparation surfaces. Next Julie goes into the back office and rolls out a huge leather lazy chair. I say chair, it’s about as wide as a 2-piece couch. Top of the range, one of those special SAKA chairs. I can see through the kitchen as the back door opens. Light blasts through but some great shape casts a vast silhouette. The shape is like a monstrous 5 foot tall pear, as wide as a minivan. It lumbers into the frame of the door, its giant ass knocking over several empty pizza boxes.
"BITCH! Get me through this fucking door!" the eclipse screams.
My eyes adjusted to the change in light, I finally see this impossible girl. The beauty is trying to squeeze through but is waaaaay too fat! Her supple, bouncing pear-shape jiggles with juiciness as she wriggles through the doorframe. Her gargantuan belly swings side to side with the effort of shuffling her squished hips through the “narrow” (4 foot wide) hallway. She tries to jostle in sideways but her walrus ass sticks out so much that butt to stomach is even wider than hip to hip. She's got no chance. Behind her I can vaguely make out a man trying to help knead and flatten her shelves of blubber to fit her in. One worker grabs a 10ltr tub of margarine and starts rubbing it across the girl's naked midriff. She finally manages to pop through.
"Where do you think you're going with THAT?" the piggish woman demands, gazing longingly at the still mostly full tub. The moment it’s handed to her this greedy beast of a beauty begins scooping great yellow handfuls into her mouth, moaning like sex while simultaneously drooling into her margarine.
“BUUUUUUUUUUURRPPP Someone get me some sticks of butter to dip in this!!”
She waddles through to the (understandably spacious) kitchen and I get a better look at her. She’s 19 and no less than 600lbs. Her hips are actually wider than her arm span. Her belly, now smothered in margarine and butter, hangs naked and glistening out of her tiny black Ariana Grande shirt. It barely contains her bouncing, unsupported giga-tits and is covered in crumbs and donut powder and stained with drool. Those major boobs bounce playfully out of sync, perky despite being obviously braless. She's wearing tight pink hot pants with black pantyhose underneath and tiny black Converse All-Stars on her delicate feet. Her fat piggy face is red with the exertion of walking for 2 minutes. Her blue eyes focus on the lazy chair and she sighs with relaxation as she sits down, her flubbery hip shelves spilling over the sides like an ice cream cone. A 50 something year old man dotes on her, carrying a box of chocolate cream croissants he plonks delicately in her mouth. He cranks a lever on the side that reclines her chair and extends a footrest-like platform from beneath, sturdily supporting her belly, sparing this babe from having to endure her own weight.
"That’s better. Someone get me something to eat NOW or you're ALL fired!!"
One of the middle-aged bedraggled worker women brings a still steaming pizza from the oven. She presents in on a paddle to her obese boss who begins eating the scalding thing whole and un-sliced. Slurping it back like a vacuum cleaner. Being so close I can see it's barely cooked and she’s chewing raw dough, slopping tomato sauce all down her trio of chins and into her cleavage. A few more pizza boxes are stacked next to her and I watch in amazement as it takes this girl less than 3 minutes to finish it all.
"BUUUUUUUURPPPP Get me something to drink, idiots! And bring me my money!!"
An employee presents her with a 4ltr bottle of Pepsi Blue. She chugs the entire thing so eagerly the plastic form collapses in on itself tighter and tighter as the fizzy liquid disappears in 6 seconds like a maelstrom of gluttony. Another worker empties the register and brings the huge wad of money over to the man. He counts.
"Not bad, Tanaia my special Princess, there’s $847 here."
Tanaia lets out a great loud BURP spraying berry flavoured sticky droplets across her front and her father. She snatches the money from him. She SCREAMS at her exhausted workers.
"THAT'S IT?! THAT'S ALL YOU'VE MADE ME TODAY??"
She screams a high pitched SQUEAL of fury. Daddy rubs her back.
“That’s not bad, sweet honey-piglet, it’s only 10:30…”
Tanaia pouts and HMMFFs at Daddy, unappeased by his answers. An older worker steps forward.
"Please, Ms. Blunt, we haven't even had the lunchtime rush yet and--"
"HEY! I didn't ask for a bunch of dumbass excuses. You assholes are clearly NOT working hard ENOUGH! I'm putting you all on unpaid overtime AND docking your wages!!"
"Please, Uncle Ross," a middle-aged worker pleads to Daddy, "I have the kids to feed, and nowhere else will hire me after Tanaia told them all I stole from you."
Tanaia spits chewed up flecks of bacon and pizza across her tits and gut as she berates her cousin.
"WELL THAT’LL TEACH YOU NOT TO STEAL NOW, WON’T IT?!"
"But you know I didn't, you only said that because I got pregnant and couldn't work as fast."
Tanaia the pig giggles, her Jell-O belly wobbling with rapture. She stashes the cash underneath one of her meteorite tits to be held firmly by its incredible weight.
“If you don’t do as I say I’ll make Daddy fire ALL of you! Now, where’s my lunch??”
A delivery guy from some other pizza joint enters with a huge stack of boxes. Tanaia licks her lips at the site of all that food.
“Oooohh” she rubs her messy belly with excitement, ripping open the first box as soon as it reaches her and tipping the whole pizza out upside down onto her naked gut, tossing the obscuring box to the floor. Nearly horizontal, she scoops the mound and mass of pizza across her paunch and chins and into her indolently open mouth. More and more are brought to her, Daddy feeding her between each mouthful.
The rest of her workers toil feeding their imperious employer, stuffing her with every delivered pizza (there’s at least 40 more) as well as 2 buckets of barbecue chicken wings, 12 grease-dripping calzones, 3 tubs of dressing-drenched Caesar salad with extra bacon and croutons and parmesan cheese and far fewer leaves, 6 pans of chicken alfredo, 4 whole lasagnas, 10lbs of fries, a sack of potato wedges and something like 100 pizza rollups. Obviously Tanaia’s binging includes every side dish and condiment from her own restaurant. Dessert certainly isn’t forgotten and Tanaia guzzles back 60 Cinnabons, 20 giant Hershey’s cookies, 150 chocolate two-bite (actually one-bite) brownies, 400 chocolate lava cakes and 75 funnel cakes.
She notices her newest worker, a boy about 14 years old. He looks like a good kid, tall and athletic and polite.
“BUUUUUUUUUUUURPPPPP Who are you?”
He smiles, professional, and holds out his hand to shake her chubby food-mashed mitt. “Nice to meet your Ms. Blunt, I’m Joshua, it’s my first day.”
Tanaia eyes him up and down, interested. She admires his strong arms, his wet eyes. She offers her fat hand for him to kiss. Unsure at first he obediently does so. As he lets go her clawed fingers run teasingly down his chest.
“MMMMMMMMM you’re gonna FIT IN just great, I can tell” Tanaia gives him a sadistic smile and licentious wink as her black, stiletto nails reach down to the boy’s gym shorts, playfully tugging at the waist. “I have other work for you too, honey, if you’re looking for it.”
She licks her lips then orders Joshua to massage her thick, bovine shoulders. Enthused, her eating ramps up. Food starts getting scarce. A second batch of delivery orders is placed but won’t be here for 10 minutes. Tanaia pouts for Daddy, mewling like an injured kitten. He orders the workers to grab every remaining ingredient to feed his daughter.
Tanaia slathers as the first worker brings her a garbage bag of diced ham and scoops the billions of bits into her gnashing mouth. Thick pans of dough are brought to her and she devours the great mounds as if she’s eating herself. Chunks of solid cheese disappear in moments as well as whole pepperonis, onions munched like apples, jars of olives glugged back brine-and-all, frozen tubs of sliced pineapple, strips of bacon and gallon upon gallon of tomato paste. After that her second delivery arrives, twice as large as the first, and she burns through it like a food processor.
Finally Tanaia’s eating slows down, breathing heavily as she automatically shovels flour into her face. Possibly she’s hoping fresh pizzas will cook in her enormous oven of a gut? She’s absolutely covered in the decimated evidence of everything she’s eaten.
“Ugh, I’m sooooo full, I knew I shouldn’t have blazed before I came over.”
She lets out a great long FART as Joshua obediently cleans her beautiful face.
“Right! Everyone get me up, my boyfriend is taking me out for lunch… MOVE!!”
They struggle to help her stand (and by help I mean do all the work) and she staggers towards the exit, her gut so stuffed it’s now noticeably dragging along the greasy kitchen linoleum. Joshua cleverly places it under one of those floor rollers used for moving big stacks of pizzas. This time Tanaia needs even more margarine to get her fat frame through the door and orders the poor boy to vigorously rub it into her skin, having him combine it with a gut massage. After 5 minutes and several offensive farts she’s free.
“Joshy, sweetie, don’t forget orientation at my house after your basketball practice. And the rest of you useless cunts better make AT LEAST five times this poxie amount by the end of the day or it’s coming out of YOUR paycheques!”
With that the door SLAMS shut and Tanaia and Daddy are gone. The exhausted workers take a minute to breathe and unwind from the whirlwind of feasting and admonishment. The whole place is a mess as if it’s been robbed by blind gorillas. Every ingredient is devoured including all the penny candy from the gum machines.
The Julie girl notices me.
“Oh, hi, you came in 50 minutes ago, right?”
“I never left” I answer.
“Did you still want that slice? I think there’s one around here somewhere…”
She returns with a reheated slice from the back of an old freezer. I pay up and take my food, leaving extremely satisfied. Sure, the pizza’s not great, the service is awful and there are about 20 restaurants much cheaper and closer to where I work, but this is the only place that really has what I want.