Project Fat Suit

Three: Yummy . . . on the Inside

Chapter Three: Yummy on the Inside

“You smell like cake,” Kurt commented as I sat down next to him at the dining table.

“You smell like crap,” I retorted lamely, too tired to think of a better comeback. Cashier Guy made me clean up after the party because apparently I was the instigator, but really, it was his fault. He had told the kids there was cake. Asshole. So I was forced to stay there for two hours cleaning up and then I had to go home to get all the cake out of my pants . . . and hair, and fingernails.

Kurt took a hold of my wrist and bit my hand.

“Ow!” I exclaimed, yanking my hand away from him. “What was that for?”

He simply shrugged. “That was for being mean. And because I couldn’t of another insult,” he said admittedly.

I slapped the backside of his head.

“Ow!” he complained, just as girly as I did, might I add.

Soon a cat fight erupted.

“Dog!” I cried, trying to get the stray dog to help me.

“No! Don’t, Rena! I surrender! I surrender!” Kurt stopped slapping me and put them in the air.

“Wimp,” I mumbled, attempting to suppress a smug smile. The stray dog was locked up inside my room because of Kurt allergies.

Kurt slapped me once more on the top of my head before leaving the kitchen. “You’re a jerk.”

:::x:::O:::x:::

“Dad! I’m taking the dog for a walk!” I shouted up the stairs as I passed them whilst urging the dog out the front door.

“Okay, come back before dinner!” he shouted back as I shut the door behind me.

“Woah, where are you going?” I asked the dog as he began jogging down the side walk with his tongue hanging from his mouth. “Wait up!” I tried to slow him down with the leash, but he kept just running.

“What are you looking at?” I asked an onlooker angrily as I ran by her.

She just looked away, putting one hand on her mouth as if she was hiding a grin.

I couldn’t blame her. A girl in a fat suit getting pulled by a dog was pretty entertaining from an observer’s point of view.

Finally after four blocks, the dog stopped to a walking speed, slightly panting, unlike me who was breathing deeply. God, I’m unfit.

The dog suddenly stopped at a house to sniff the plants and what not.

“Please don’t tell me you’re taking a dump,” I begged. “I didn’t bring doggie bags.”

To my surprise the dog didn’t and went up to the front porch, tail wagging so fast I could hardly see it. He started to scratch on the front door, whimpering quietly. Then something dawned on me.

“Is this your home, boy?” I asked, bending down to his level. I didn’t get a reply, of course. I sighed. I was just getting to love him.

I scratched his head for what was probably the last time and rang the doorbell.

“Hello,” I started to say when the door opened, but I froze once I saw who was standing in front of me.

“Davidson, one day with was enough,” Cashier Guy groaned when he realized it was me.

“Who’s at the door?” a familiar little voice asked from behind the door. “Buzz!” Sam exclaimed as he saw the dog.

The dog, or Buzz, immediately pounced on Sam, licking his face.