Somewhere amidst the wasteland of dirty dishes and crumb-strewn Supperware containers Janet's Boysenberry was ringing. Normally this wouldn't be enough to rouse her from a food-coma, but the damn thing had been set to vibrate and she could hear it buzz; plastic tap dancing on glass. Christ- what a racket! Blindly, her right hand probed for the source of the noise. It encountered clammy leftovers and almost upset a teetering stack of plates before the phone stopped ringing and she lost all interest in finding it. She nuzzled into her cleavage and almost drifted back to sleep when the plate tower fell against her side, bounced off, and met its doom on the cruel tile floor.
Now she was awake. Janet opened her eyes to survey the damage but they were bleary. Her contacts were missing and her eyes were crusty. She went to knuckle away the sleep sand that glued the corners of her eyes together and instead stabbed herself in the temple with a fork. She had apparently been clutching it the whole night. Or day. Just how long had she been out for? If she had her Boysenberry, she could check.
Not only was the kitchen a mess, it was a blurry mess. She needed her glasses before she could start looking. So she'd just get up and- "Uh!" She'd get up and- "UHHH!" What in the hell? Jesus! She was sprawled on top of her belly like it was a water bed. Trying to stand only pivoted her upper body downwards on the fulcrum of her stomach. From that position she could push off with her arms all she wanted, but she could never hope to raise her gut off the ground. If she could manage to roll over she'd have better luck getting upright.
But to her right was a minefield of plate shards. To her left: a turkey graveyard. Oh- and a piece of pumpkin pie. She made it halfway though this snack before she realized she wasn't wearing any clothes apart for some little white cotton socks. Suddenly there were more profound mysteries to solve than discovering the date and time. Why was she naked, anchored to the floor by an impossibly large stomach and surrounded on all sides by a reef of Thanksgiving feast debris?
Minus the belly, boobs, and pig parts, and that's pretty much what I look like in the morning. Man, how much did she eat? That turkey and stack of containers can't be it.
Ha ha, I guess the stereotypical "fat girl at Thanksgiving pic" that all expansion artists do didn't escape your grasp, Woot. Really loving your sense of canon though!
She's only started to digest her mega meal. I imagine she's going to look like a python that swallowed a wildebeest for quite a while. That didn't stop her from eating that last piece of pie though.
And no, I couldn't resist. The temptation to draw porky pig girls grew too great. I'm not sure if we'll see any sort of sequel though.
PlzPlzPlzPlzPlzPlzPlzPlzPlzPlzPlzPlzPlzPlzPlzPlzPlzPlz w00t plz make a sequal! We must know what happened that night and who's phone # that is!!!! oh, and is it possible that this piggy girl is related to the girl from swine flu? i dont know but to me they look like they might be cousins or something.
ps. i think your piggy girls are uber cute. plz draw more, their awsome!!!
Now she was awake. Janet opened her eyes to survey the damage but they were bleary. Her contacts were missing and her eyes were crusty. She went to knuckle away the sleep sand that glued the corners of her eyes together and instead stabbed herself in the temple with a fork. She had apparently been clutching it the whole night. Or day. Just how long had she been out for? If she had her Boysenberry, she could check.
Not only was the kitchen a mess, it was a blurry mess. She needed her glasses before she could start looking. So she'd just get up and- "Uh!" She'd get up and- "UHHH!" What in the hell? Jesus! She was sprawled on top of her belly like it was a water bed. Trying to stand only pivoted her upper body downwards on the fulcrum of her stomach. From that position she could push off with her arms all she wanted, but she could never hope to raise her gut off the ground. If she could manage to roll over she'd have better luck getting upright.
But to her right was a minefield of plate shards. To her left: a turkey graveyard. Oh- and a piece of pumpkin pie. She made it halfway though this snack before she realized she wasn't wearing any clothes apart for some little white cotton socks. Suddenly there were more profound mysteries to solve than discovering the date and time. Why was she naked, anchored to the floor by an impossibly large stomach and surrounded on all sides by a reef of Thanksgiving feast debris?
Why was there a post-it note stuck to her ass?