Fowl

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Flight was the first thing to go. It had vanished as fast as his feet from his vision as the pounds had begun to add up. The large, paunchy avian had still been able to waddle around slowly on legs which he hardly used, but it was only a matter of time before he was restricted mostly to his chair, and then to his bed. None of this had slowed his consumption though, in fact it had only gotten to be more greedy and gluttonous as his wings became laden with lard. His stomach was constantly growing and stretching, nearly always filled with food once moving himself became too much of a task. Granted, this made getting his next meal a real challenge, but loyal servants and enraptured admirers made sure that the food kept coming long after the bird was unable to get it himself. He didn’t mind having to be fed, and indeed loved the attention to his rolling folds of fat as he lay in his own obesity, but it did get a little boring. He longed for some excitement in his life, for after he had broken his bed with his oozing, sagging tonnage, nothing good had come along in what felt like an eternity.

This particular day was just like the many others before it; filled with food and eating and attention. His slick length was buried beneath countless pounds of adipose, smothered by rolling thighs and obscured by a thick ring of rank, sweaty, musky crotch fat. The brown-feathered avian barely cared though, just opening his yellowed beak wide and taking in yet another helping of feed. Various grubs, all uncooked as he liked them, went into his muzzle by the wingful. He was barely even given time to swallow them before another batch of them was placed before his muzzle, and that just made the bird smile to himself. His feeder was an eager one this morning, and he would have to make sure that this particular caretaker was compensated for serving his lord so well. For now though, the avian simply concentrated on gorging to his fat-wrapped heart’s content. So what if he spilled bugs between his bulging moobs and onto the sea of rippling folds that had become his chins and neck? He was content to glut, and he was going to do so.

“King Jaspian, sir!” came a soldier, bursting in through the triple-wide doors of the avian’s quarters and stopping only to perform the briefest of salutes. “We have encountered a large enemy force while out on patrol!” The slim hawk stood stock still at the door, his eyes shutting slightly as the utterly noxious stench of his unwashed slob of a lord came to fill his nostrils. He didn’t dare look at the disgusting blob, instead looking away towards the window as he stood at attention and waited for orders. Jaspian could sense the other bird’s discontent, but he reveled in it as it showed just how much his gluttony affected others, and thusly stroked his ego.

“Where?” spat out the gorging blob of a bird, a few worms peppering the wing which was trying to feed him even more. He gave the servant feeding him a look to stop, and the young, thin pigeon complied.

“Along the east corridor, sir! They appear to be from King Li-”

“Liger… Damnit.” Jaspian hissed as he spoke, his voice lowering and his thick brow furrowing. His feathers all fluffed up as he thought of just what this could mean for his kingdom, and more importantly his waistline, if war came to his flock. “Alright, bring all patrols back to the castle and have the generals meet me in my chambers as soon as they can be assembled.”

“Sir!” The soldier saluted much more properly this time, and then hustled out of the room as fast as his short legs could carry him. The king and his servant were left in the room, the pigeon sitting at the king’s bedside while leaning gently against the slick adipose of his leader. Jaspian looked to his servant, and then to the food. He was still hungry, as he always was lately, but he knew that business needed to be taken care of. With a reluctant sigh, he leaned as far forward as the few muscles left in his once-glorious frame would allow and grunted. The pigeon by his side immediately moved to help his lord, grabbing one roll-covered wing and gripping the wet, sweaty feathers with both of his wings. The king gave the servant a grateful look, and then planted his other wing firmly on the bedframe. With a monumental effort, he simultaneously shoved up and back, to force himself into a little bit more of a sitting position over the nearly-prone one he had been in.

This process was repeated a couple times, and left the king breathing heavily and sweating profusely. A couple of other cooing pigeons rushed in, both with buckets of water but only one carrying a towel. The pigeon with just a bucket rushed over to the slovenly lord and placed it below his beak between the sagging pectorals where his chest had once been. The big brown bird placed his muzzle right into it and began to drink deeply, his tongue lapping water into his beak at a rapid pace as he tried to replace all the moisture that had been lost. This went on while the other pigeon began to wipe the gelatinous king down, lightly wicking the moisture off his feathers using the clean towel and wringing the sweat out into the bucket. He would then get the towel wet with water again and repeat the process, effectively giving his immobile ruler a sponge bath. The feeder pigeon had yet to leave his lord’s side through this, and just stayed there petting along the foot-thick lovehandle on which he leaned.

Jaspian nearly finished the bucket of water before the pigeon who had retrieved it was signaled to remove it. The feeder bird was waiting, and Jaspian was as well as his beak was opened wide once he could see more than bucket. He ate with a newfound gusto, shoveling down food even faster than the pigeon could supply it. HIs cheeks bulged and wobbled as they were stuffed to the brim with grubs, but the bird didn’t care and just gulped the food down as though it were air itself. His gluttony was evident too, for his middle bulged out just slightly as he gorged without abandon. Countless bugs met their end over that time, all while he was bathed and attended to by the two other pigeons in the room. All Jaspian could see was his food though, and that was all that mattered to the pig of the bird as he ate, and grew, and ate some more.

A roaring fart blasted from his bed-crushing rump, and that snapped him out of his gorging. Blushing slightly beneath his brown plumage, the avian simply grunted out once the gas had left his titanic ass and looked to the bird feeding him for more. There was none though, a thing which made the king pout slightly, but he knew that he would need to be ready for his generals. This meant getting on his royal cape, as well as his insignia, and his crown. His servants were already on that though, as the one with the towel reached up and wiped the leftovers from his beak, chins, and cheeks with caring grace. The other was standing with all three items nearly prepared for his lord, and the feeder pigeon moved beside this bird in order to help. Jaspian lowered his head into his neck-folds as much as he could, and waited for the servants to do what they needed. He could get back to eating once they were done, and that was all he wanted.

The birds worked quick, slapping the cape on his back and bunching up what they could of it behind him as there was very little room behind his titanic frame. The bird didn’t care though, and instead just thought of what he could consume next. His insignia were put through one of the many shiny feathers on his chest, now somewhat clean thanks to the washing pigeon. He still stunk like the slob he was, but it was mostly his heady, fat-fowl musk rather than sweat and grime. He barely even noticed the stench now though, as he had been so accustomed to it that he couldn’t tell it from air at this point in his life. He knew others could though, and that was enough for him. The king’s crown went on last, perching atop his head like he once had on the stoop of his house long before he had ascended to the crown, and gluttony. That was a long time ago, and not a time which he necessarily missed.

Dressed, the king opened his beak again and looked expectantly at his servants. All three bowed graciously and backed away, clearing the room once they did so. The king knew that meant his entourage was almost here, and that he would need quick feed. This meant Bronson, and that always made the brown avian smile; the hulking beast never let the king go hungry, and that was something which Jaspian could thank the slightly-stupid pelican for. Indeed, he heard the heavy, waddling footfalls of the bird coming into his chambers as soon as the pigeons had gone, and he smiled broadly to himself. He could get his meal, and be pleasantly stuffed once his generals came in to discuss war plans. Jaspian’s military genius worked best on a full stomach, and with Bronson here, his stomach was going to be packed to the brim.

That would let him show those pesky cats.

 

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