Snowed In- January Poll Story (Patreon)

“Gooood morning, Nanukiwok! It’s eleven AM, the sun is just rising, and bringing with it a lovely -10 degrees outside. You’re listening to Big Al, the bear that’s always hungry for the latest and greatest. If you think I’m being sarcastic about the weather, well, trust me, folks, I got no choice but to love this weather today. Your KFAT crew are out on the docks right now, as Nanukiwok awaits the homecoming of its favored son, two-time olympian and Alaska’s fastest polar bear, Alex Trent!”

A pontoon plane skidded across the icy waters of Nanukiwok Bay, coming to a stop at the one dock where KFAT was set up. Big Al leaned into his microphone, grinning wide.

“And he’s just landed, folks! We at KFAT wanted to do our best to welcome this famous Alaskan home, so we’ve organized a little welcoming committee!”

Alex Trent, already in a bad mood from the bumpy plane ride, leaned on his crutch, temporarily blinded by several bright flashes as local journalists flashed pictures. A small crowd, probably half the town of Nanukiwok, had gathered, holding up a few banners celebrating the marathon runner and cheered as they saw him.

“It’s a regular hero’s welcome for Alex Trent,” Big Al narrated, picking up his microphone as he threw his thick arm around the runner’s shoulders. “How’s it feel to be back home, sport?”

Alex Trent was holding back a scowl, and grunted as the huge bear leaned into him. “What the hell is all this, Dad?”

There was a scant pause before Big Al switched gears. “And we need to go to a quick commercial break, folks! Tune in later for an exclusive interview with Alex Trent, the coolest athlete to ever come out of the Great White North!”

The radio crew gave the all clear, and Big Al sighed. “Son, I know it’s been a while, but you know the rules while on air; no swearing. I’m going to get a letter from Pastor Michaels after that, you know he’s not, uh, hip like your old man.”

“Dad, please, can you just take me home?” the athlete was turning away from the crowd, trying to hide his face. “If this gets any more embarrassing, I’m going to jump in the lake.”

Big Al frowned a bit. “Uh, sure, sport. Hey, Marty? Take over for me, will ya?”

The two polar bears started lurching their way towards Big Al’s car; the older bear was carrying himself in his usual, waddling gait, his formidable gut bouncing with each step, and his son was hobbling behind, his leg still wrapped up from a nasty fall. Big Al squeezed into the driver’s seat, his sizeable bulk covered in thick, fluffy white fur, spilling over to Alex’s side. The younger, smaller polar bear was scowling deeply now that the cameras weren’t on him, his green eyes looking anywhere but at his father. With a lithe, muscular build, Alex took up a good bit of room himself, but was now leaning against the window, so he didn’t have to so much as brush up against his father.

“I, uh, know that Nanukiwok doesn’t look like much after Los Angeles and Paris, Alex.” Big Al said as he started up the car. “But you shouldn’t be ashamed of your hometown. A lot of people came out to support you,”

“You think that’s what I’m upset about?” Alex scoffed. “Dad, don’t you get it? My career is over.” He tapped his cast. “My leg’s all busted up. I’m never running again. I didn’t need my failure broadcast to all of Northern Alaska.”

“Uh, all of Alaska, actually,” Big Al said. “We picked up Juneau last month.”

“Well, fucking fantastic,” Alex muttered.

The car came to a screeching halt. “Hey! Language!” Big Al waved his finger in his son’s face. “No more of that talk. Where’d you pick up that dirty mouth, the French Rivery?”

“Rivieria, Dad,” Alex corrected.

Big Al waved his hand. “Whatever. Your mother’d die of shock if she heard you speak that way.” The burly polar bear sighed as they passed Naukiwok’s fourth, and last, stoplight. “Did you get the care package your mom and I sent you? When you were in the hospital? We would’ve come to see you, but all the flights were cancelled. We actually sent it by sled dog some of the way.”

“I did Dad, yeah. Thanks.”

The rest of the car ride passed in silence as they moved to the small collection of houses huddled together that passed for a suburb in Nanukiwok. Big Al pulled into the driveway of one of the bigger houses, a faux log cabin with huge windows overlooking the lake; being the biggest radio personality in the state did come with a respectable paycheck, after all.

“The whole family’s here to see you; your sisters made it, and cousin Billy, too.”

Alex smacked his forehead. “Oh, Dad! Not Billy.”

Big Al held up his hands defensively. “What? He plays football, he’s an athlete, just like you.”

“He played football, Dad. Now he’s a middle school coach, and he keeps tagging me in all his posts about his conspiracy theory shi- uh, crap.” Alex cleared his throat. 

Big Al arched his brow. “Alright, I get it. You want some space. Your mom and I won’t bother you, but right now, the whole family’s here, for you. Because we love you, Alex. So, buck up, and put on a smile for your sisters, your mom, and Billy,” the hefty polar bear sighed. “Look. Take a few minutes, and head on inside when you’re ready. Okay?”

Alex didn’t answer, leaving Big Al to shake his head as he squeezed himself out of the car. Taking one last look at his sulking son, he lumbered inside. For a man his size, Big Al could be surprisingly stealthy, deftly avoiding his daughters and nephew in the living room, before he got the attention of his wife, Ellie, in the kitchen.

A polar bear with noticeably pretty, ice blue eyes, Ellie was, like most of her family, a little on the hefty side, but her extra weight was shaped in a graceful, matronly fashion that made Big Al feel lucky.

Throwing his heavy arm around his wife, Big Al tugged her close against his belly. “Alex is in the car. He’s… moody.”

Ellie clicked her tongue, standing on her tip-toes to kiss her husband on a round cheek. “I wouldn’t be surprised. His whole future just went out the window, now it looks like he’s coming home with his tail between his legs.”

“I know, but he shouldn’t feel that way! He got a gold medal at the Olympics, for god’s sake. I had half the town out to meet him, give him a proper hero’s welcome.”

Ellie broke out of her husband’s embrace. “Oh, Al, you didn’t.” She shook her head, busying herself with some biscuits she slid into the oven. “Alex was always a little sensitive, a little vain. He just needs to be with the people that love him, and that’s all, Al. Coax him out of the car when you think he’s ready, I’m making a huge fish fry.”

“Oooh…” Big Al’s hand drifted toward a freshly breaded salmon, until Ellie slapped it away.

“It’s for Alex! He gets first choice.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, honey…”

Back in the garage, the cold was starting to get to Alex. His sleek fur had been in Los Angeles a little too long; he had forgotten how cold it was up north. After struggling between facing his family and freezing to death, his family won out by a slim margin. The lean polar bear tried positioning his crutches, but he slipped on a small bit of ice, and he slammed into the ground on his side.

“Ah, shit!” Alex hissed, bearing his teeth through the pain. “Dad! Mom!” he called, but no answer. “...Billy?” he called reluctantly.

“Alex?” a familiar voice called. “Alex, oh my god!”

Alex looked up, his line of sight filled with a pretty raccoon face. “...Beth?”

Beth smiled, pushing back a strand of hair. “I heard your dad on the radio, uh… welcome home.” The two exchanged looks for a moment; Alex was a bit taken aback, as Beth had been a lot less hardy when he left to train for the olympics. Her shoulders were noticeably broad, and along her arms, thick, solid muscle rippled under her fur. Still, she had the prettiest, bronze-colored eyes, like honey.

“Oh, geez,” she shook her head. “Let me help you up.” Alex didn’t protest, his arm pinched by her peaked bicep. When she pulled on him, however, he cried out in pain.

“Sorry!” she gasped, covering her mouth. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Alex grunted, pulling himself up to a sitting position. “It’s… good to see you, Beth. You were serious about that powerlifting stuff, weren’t you?”

“Well, after you went and won gold, I figured, maybe Nanukiwok had two Olympians, heh,” Beth blushed, playing with a strand of her hair. There was another pause as they both looked at each other, but then the raccoon shook her head. “Here, uh, let’s get you inside.”

Gently, she lifted Alex up. He was startled how easy it was for her, but it gave him a closer look at a noticeably well-developed chest. Nudging the door open, the raccoon gingerly sat Alex down. “Trents! It’s just me, Beth! I found someone outside your door!”

Ellie was the first to the hallway, followed by Alex’s twin sisters, Dana and Darla. “Oh, my word,” the Trent matriarch rushed to her son’s side, kissing his cheek. “What happened?”

“I’m fine, I just tripped on the ice,” Alex grumbled. “Beth helped me in. I called for you guys, but no one answered.”

“We heard you,” Dana said with an impish grin. “We just turned up the TV volume.”

“Oh, stop that,” Ellie lightly slapped her daughter’s arm. “Oh, my poor baby!” she assaulted her son with another barrage of kisses. “Well, you’re home now. And I want you to just rest until lunch, no arguing! Your old room is all made up.” She turned to the raccoon. “And of course, Beth, we’d love to have you. You know me, I always make too much.”

Alex perked up at that. “Oh, yeah,” he looked up at Beth, grinning for the first time since he got home. “You shouldn’t miss mom’s fish fry.”

“Oh, well, for the hell-ibut, sure,” Beth snorted at her own joke. She quickly moved on to something else. “I actually brought something, for Alex.” She offered up a tin, lightly nudging his arm. “You still got a sweet tooth, right Trent? It’s from my place. I won a few regional championships, and bought old man Rork’s place. I make burgers, and- and cookies,” she blushed a bit, rattling the tin.

“Cookies and burgers, huh?” Alex asked, his brow arched. “That the new powerlifting diet?” 

“Hey, shut up! I saw that picture of you and Usain Bolt gorging on chicken nuggets. McD’s still the only Olympian sponsor you all eat at?”

Lunch at the Trent home was a little chaotic, especially in winter. The family wasn’t so old-fashioned they actually committed to hibernating, but instincts were hard to beat down; most of their extra weight was piled on from December 21st to March 20th. Big Al and Billy, who certainly looked the part of a retired football player, beer gut and all, dominated most of the gorging, dividing a small mountain of fried fish between them. Dana, who was pregnant, used the old “eating for two” excuse, while Darla and Ellie were more dainty, but still ate enough to feed three regular people.

Beth and Alex watched with equal amounts of fascination. “Thanksgiving dinner must be a warzone, here,” the raccoon muttered, nudging Alex’s side.

Alex was eating a respectable amount; in fact, more than he probably should, but no one could beat his mom’s cooking. Compared to the three days straight of airline food he had been subjected to, it tasted like heaven. “You’ve no idea. Mom and Aunt Jackie once went at each other, using turkey legs like battleaxes.”

Beth giggled. “So… what do you plan on doing? I mean, if you’re not gonna… y’know.”

Alex shrugged. “I’m not hurting for cash. I had a lot of sponsorship deals that made a tidy profit, but, it’s not going to last forever. I dunno yet.”

Big Al’s ear twitched, a fish hanging out of his mouth. “Well, sport, you’d always be welcome at the radio station. You used to love coming into the office.”

Alex balked. “I, uh, don’t know, dad.”

“Oh, c’mon. You know Marty and Bella and all the rest. We even had a name picked out!”

The lean polar bear buried his face in his hands. “Dad-”

“Baby Al! The youngest DJ in the state!”

“Dad!” Alex brought his fist down on the table. His cousin Billy was sniggering, and Alex stood, leveling him a death glare that could cut ice. “Shut up, Billy. I had to come back to this backwater because I broke my leg, you’re stuck here because of that damn metal plate in your head after you got drunk and crashed a zamboni.”

“Alex!” Ellie stood. “We do not talk about things like that in front of guests.”

“Mom, the whole fucking town saw him, he wrapped the zamboni around the war memorial on Main Street.”

“Language, dammit!” Big Al brought his fist down, making the whole table shake. “You are not in Los Angeles anymore, boy! In this town, we still have manners!”

There was an awkward silence, then Alex shook his head. “I’ve lost my appetite,” he announced to the table, picking up his plate and hobbling out of the dining room. He made his way outside, and dug for his phone. 

“Yeah, hi. I’m going to need an uber out here. I’m in Nanukiwok. What do you mean your closest driver is ‘technically in Canada’?”

His phone was snatched out of his hands. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Alex braced himself, but was caught off guard by Beth. “Look, Beth, I- I gotta get out of here. It’ll be better for everyone if I just… find a hotel somewhere. Like I said, I’ve got some cash.”

“Alex, this is your family. They love you.” The raccoon put her hand on his shoulder. “They’re not the only ones that missed you, y’know. The whole town crowded my place to watch you in Paris. Look, uhm.” She was playing with her hair again, and maybe it was Alex’s imagination, but she seemed to be flexing her bicep, the way it bulged. “Give it the night. For an old friend? I’ll treat you to lunch tomorrow. And here.” She held up the tin of cookies. “I don’t trust these around your family. I made them just for you, so you better eat one, or I’ll put you in a headlock.” 

Alex relented, grinning as he bit into one. “Holy shit. These are really good.”

“There’ll be more if you stay. And I know you’ll come asking for more.”

The polar bear arched his brow. “What makes you say that?”

Beth grinned, playfully punching him in the arm. “You’re a Trent, aren’t you?”

Alex returned her smile, then nodded, turning to head back in. He deftly side-stepped his family, and quickly sequestered to his room, locking the door. There were a few knocks as the evening wore on, but he didn’t budge for anyone. Around midnight, when the rest of the family was asleep, Alex snuck down to the kitchen.

“Looking for something, Aly?”

Alex jumped, turning around to see his two sisters. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”

“We knew you’d come out eventually.” Dana said, something behind her back. “We wanted to give you your welcome home gift earlier, but someone wasn’t opening the door.”

“Sorry. I just… didn’t want to talk to mom or dad.”

Darla nodded. She was the smaller of the two sisters, on account of Dana’s pregnancy, but still filled out every inch of her clothing with an overly curvaceous build. “You know that you were all they could talk about when you said you were coming home. You missed, like, three Christmases in a row.”

“Including this one,” Dana added.

Alex sighed. “I know. Just… I feel like I failed.”

The twins exchanged looks. “You won a gold medal. People only get a shot at that every four years. You were literally the best in the world.”

“Stop being so hard on yourself; it’s our job to knock you down a peg. But we can do that later.” Dana pulled a cake from behind her back. “Ta-daaa!”

Alex grinned. Neither of his sisters were quite the cook their mother was; there was too much frosting, and the “Welcome Home” written on top was sloppily written, but he already had an idea what flavor it was. “Death by chocolate?” It was his favorite, after all.

“How’d you ever guess?”

The three siblings lived up to their family name, devouring the cake to the last crumb and catching up, long into the endless night Alaskan winter brought. By the time he carried himself to bed, Alex felt a lot better about staying home.

The following morning, it seemed all had been forgiven. His father had gone to work early, but Alex woke up to a huge chocolate chip pancake breakfast from his mother, and he was reminded faster than ever that his family showed affection through food. Already, his middle was stretched taut, but he still shambled his way down the road, shuffling through snow to Beth’s restaurant, simply called “Beth’s Burgers.”

“Oh my gosh! Alex!” Beth gasped, nearly overfilling a patron’s coffee. “Did you walk here?” She and two others helped the polar bear to a table. There was a light smattering of applause and the raising of cups from the other patrons, which made Alex feel a little better than it did yesterday.

“Well,” he began, as Beth slid in the booth next to him. He lost his thought for a moment; the raccoon was really buff, her sleeves rolled up and taut over her thick biceps. “I said I’d come, and I hate breaking promises.”

Beth smirked, nudging him. “I could’ve come to you, you goober. I’ll do that tomorrow- er, if, if you’d like that.”

“I would, yeah,” Alex grinned.

Beth was playing with her hair again, then cleared her throat. “Right! So. I’m trying out a new burger, with sweet black peppercorn bacon, I figured you’d like that- I just need some feedback.”

“Oh, so I’m just here to be your taste tester, is that it?”

The raccoon chuckled. “Never said it’d be a free lunch, Trent. So, milkshake, too? You like chocolate, yeah?”

“I…” he thought about saying no; he’d been eating a lot lately, and a lot of fatty foods, but, gosh, Beth’s eyes were pretty. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds good.” 

“Great!” Beth wrote down the order and hopped up. “I’m sure you’ll love it.”

He absolutely did. Beth had a particular talent with burgers, and she insisted on walking him home after the meal. After that, Alex fell into a comfortable routine; it took more out of him than he thought, travelling all the way from Los Angeles, and what he needed was rest and relaxation. What he hadn’t counted on was the absurd amount of food he’d be surrounded by, either from his mother’s doting or Beth’s now daily visits for lunch.

As a month passed by with Alex bundled up comfortable and warm, and with all the food he could eat and then some, the effects on the former athlete were striking. By the time his cast finally came off, it was as if scales fell off his eyes, and what he saw was an excess of seventy pounds on his frame. His belly billowed out, spilling over strained sweatpants, a fluffy white boulder hanging off his torso. The lack of physical activity had left him particularly pear-shaped, his belly balanced out with a wobbly posterior that jiggled slightly with each step. His previously strong, taut muscles had atrophied a good degree, a point further driven home every time he was near Beth and her beefy arms. It was sobering, to say the least, and the comfort he had found in his family turned to a severe ego beating, until he decided to do something about it. Squeezing himself into a sweatshirt that couldn’t contain all of his new weight, he resolved to take up running again.

The sidewalks were still covered in snow, and he had trouble finding his pace; his formerly broken leg still stung, and his wobbling belly did little to help him keep balanced. All the extra weight his legs needed to support, however, caused him to stumble, face-planting the bear into a snowpile. He made it three blocks from his house.

“Alex?” Beth pulled him up, grinning. “We really need to stop meeting this way.”

“Heh, yeah…” He blushed, her thick legs brushing against his belly as he stood to his full height. “Look, uhm. Maybe we should skip lunch today… I’m not really hungry.”

“Oh? Are you sick or something?”

Alex arched is brow, then shook his belly. “Yeah, bloat.”

Beth giggled, leading Alex back to his house. “Well… I mean, what are you thinking about doing? Didn’t you say you could never run professionally again?”

Alex scoffed. “That doesn’t mean I have to blow up like a balloon. I look like a melting snowman.”

“Well… I dunno. It’s a good look on some men.” Beth was playing with her hair, yet again. They had come back into the house, and the raccoon helped the polar bear sit down at the kitchen table.

“What do you mean?” Alex narrowed his eyes.

“You’re joking, right? I… think you’re cute, Alex. You’re all cuddly.”

The polar bear cleared his throat. “I, uh. I mean- I’m flattered. But, uhm. It’s not exactly… conventional?”

Beth smirked, flexing her arm to make her bicep bulge up. “And is this, ah, conventional?”

“Well…” Alex ran a hand over his head.

Beth leaned forward, and kissed him on the cheek. “So… we’re good?”

The polar bear blushed. “Ah… yes, I think so.”

She grinned, putting a bag on the table and unpacking some burgers. “Good. Now eat your lunch, or I’ll put you in a headlock.”

It was weird for Alex, sort of letting his descent into gluttony just happen. His half-hearted attempt at getting back in shape was quickly forgotten; he reasoned Beth worked out enough for both of them. Now that they were both officially an item, they moved their daily lunch dates out on the town, to a hot spring, usually. There were few other places one could go without several layers of clothing in Alaska, and in the middle of February, they were both increasingly claustrophobic in their clothes. 

Alex loved watching Beth sink into the steamy waters, her wide, rippling back and voluptuous chest augmented by a pair of heavy pecs filling out a cherry red bikini top. Then again, it took some more coaxing, but Beth loved watching Alex, too. His body was filling out more practically every day, his wobbling belly spilling over the top of strained blue trunks, thick, juicy thighs rolling off one another. His chest, now soft and doughy, crowned the crest of his belly, as his second chin crowned his chest, and his arms had filled out more as well, though none of it was muscle. He was built not unlike a marshmallow, but, slowly, it grew on him, even as his mass continued to grow. It helped that Beth showered him with affection, but the rest of Nanukiwok still seemed to celebrate him, no matter how big he got.

Some weeks later, Alex  was left staring at the ceiling, reflecting on this as he polished off a slice of pie, the plate resting on the crest of his belly. 

“Bye Alex, we’re heading off to work,” Dana called. “Just one more week before maternity leave kicks in.”

“Wait, what?” Alex sat up, his belly spilling over his lap, folds of fat brushing against his knees. “I thought we’d have lunch together. Beth had to go out of town for a few days.”

“Sorry, Alex,” Darla shrugged. “You’re on your own.”

The polar bear sighed, wondering what to do with himself. Heaving himself up, his belly sloshing, he waddled to the kitchen, where Ellie was gathering things up in her purse. “Mom? Where are you headed?”

“I’ve got errands to run, sweetheart,” she kissed his cheek. “What do you have planned for the day?”

Alex could only offer a shrug. 

Ellie sighed. “Well, if you’re looking for something to do, maybe you can stop by the radio station. You’ve barely spoken with your father since you got home.”

Alex’s fur bristled. “I… I dunno.”

“Sweetie,” his mother patted his round cheek before heading out. “You don’t have a lot of options.”

The polar bear groaned. He puttered around the house for a bit, his hand resting on his belly. What was he going to do? His old sponsorship wouldn’t last forever; one photo of his more recent physique had filtered back to Los Angeles, and suddenly, all the sporting brands he signed up with weren’t returning his calls. Things had cooled off with his Dad that they were at least cordial; maybe it wouldn’t hurt to visit after all.

He squeezed himself into some ill-fitting clothes, with pants stretched taut and a shirt riding up, exposing a third of his gut, and hitched a ride to the radio station. It didn’t take long to find his Dad.

“...and in other news, our boys in red and white, your very own Nanukiwok Beasts, wiped the floor against the Anchorage Astros. Looks like a great start to the hockey season.” Big Al looked up, catching his son’s eye. Alex waved timidly from behind the glass panel of his booth. 

“But, uhm, let’s take a quick word from our sponsors.” The On Air button flicked off, and Big Al lumbered out of the booth to face his son, his arms folded. “Well, look who’s out of the house. What’re you doing here, sport?”

“I, uh, thought you might want to interview the world-famous athlete, Alex Trent?” Alex offered, smiling nervously. “I’m… sorry for how cold I’ve been acting. And for how I came home.”

Big Al arched his brow. “Did your mother put you up to this?”

“No. Not the apology part, anyways. I, ah, missed you. And I’ve been getting lazy.”

The obese polar bear’s belly was brushing up against his son’s. He hadn’t been blind to Alex’s growth; he was looking more and more like his son with each passing day. Slowly smiling, Big Al swung his arm over his son’s shoulder, leading him back to the booth. “Alright. I think I can squeeze you in,” he chuckled. When both of them tried to enter through the relatively narrow door, however, their wide, plush torsos mashed against one another, their engorged stomachs bouncing off one another. “Or, heh, maybe not…”

It took some struggling, and Taylor the intern’s strong arm, but finally, father and son popped free like a cork out of a wine bottle. Huffing as they helped each other up, chairs on either side of the recording table creaking as father and son sat down, Big Al gave the signal.

“And we’re back! Well, folks, he’s been making waves for a few months now in Nanukiwok, and I never thought I’d get him back in a radio booth. But now, I’m proud to introduce my son, and Nanukiwok’s own golden boy, Alex Trent.”

Alex grinned, leaning into the microphone. “It’s great to be here.”

“How’s it feel to be back home, sport?”

“Well… now, it feels pretty good. If I can find something to keep me grounded, I might stick around for a long while.”

The interview was hardly the highlight of Big Al’s radio career, but it was the happiest he had been at his job in a long time. Chuckling as he ushered his son out of the booth, he patted his own tank-like gut. “So, it’s about lunch time… you want to join? I’m going to Frank’s place, down by the docks. He’s got the best fried fish after your mom.”

Alex grinned. “That sounds nice dad, yeah.”

The two polar bears plopped down at a table that looked comically small with the two of them, even if Big Al was still eclipsing his son. The elder Trent waved down Frank, the seal owner of the restaurant. “Hey, Frank! Give us the sea feast!”

“The sea feast?”

Big Al gave his son a knowing smirk. “It’s not your girl’s burgers, but it’ll be good, trust me. Bottomless fish, all you can eat. Because you and I need to sort something out, and we’re gonna do it like all Trent men have for generations.”

Alex frowned. “What do you mean? I apologized, dad.”

Big Al waved it off. “Not that, sport. But you still need a job. And I want you at the radio station. You’re a little raw, but y’know, if I had to pick someone to replace me, it’d be you.”

“What? Dad, I just came to visit you. I wasn’t signing up for a career.”

“And where else did you plan on working?”

Alex shrugged. “I- I dunno! I was going to work with Beth, or…”

“You? In a restaurant?” Big Al scoffed. “Boy, I’ve seen you cook; you could burn ice. You don’t wanna work in a restaurant.”

The younger polar bear pouted. “Well, okay, maybe not. But that doesn’t mean I want to work on the station.”

“You’ve got charisma, sport. You’ve got potential. So, here’s how this is going to work…” A huge platter, laden with a mound of fried fish, was set on the table between the two. “Your appetite has been out of control since you got home, and I want to see just how far it goes. It’s in your genes, sport. Your grandpa settled fights with his brothers this way, and his dad did it before him; you eat more than me, I won’t so much as mention the radio station. But, if I win, you’re coming to work with me.” Big Al reached over the fish, snatching up one and catching it in his maw before offering his hand. “Don’t worry, I won’t count that one. You got a head start.”

Alex had to fight a smile, but then reached out, grasping his father’s hand. “Alright, old man. Let’s do this.”

The pair of polar bears began to dig in with gusto. Big Al wasn’t a stranger to scarfing down fried fish, snapping up the battered delights with ease. Alex took a few fish to get into the swing of things, having to get used to eating quickly. Still he began to pick up pace, his unbridled appetite helping him chug along. He was determined to not wind up just working at the radio station, not if he could help it.

“Ain’t doing bad for a beginner!” Big Al chuckled before munching down another fish. His shirt was starting to get tighter over his large belly; Trent genes were not meant for temperance.

Alex on the other hand was finding his sweatshirt riding up over his belly, hungrily scarfing down another fish. “Don’t cry beginner’s luck or anything like that, Dad.”

The feast continued as the polar bears crammed down fish after fish. It didn’t take long before a button snapped off Big Al’s shirt, rattling on the table as some of his big, furry gut pushed free, spreading over the table like a tidal wave. Alex wasn’t in much better shape as his shirt rode up higher, exposing most of his belly as he ate. Father and son were starting to slow down, but both were too stubborn to give up.

Alex was almost wheezing as he gulped down a fish. “Can keep… going all day, Dad.” He tried to suppress a hiccup, groaning as his belly pushed against the table.

Big Al was openly panting, his shirt missing a couple buttons as his belly sagged out. The white mass of adipose was slowly growing full. “Ain’t gonna unseat your old man… j-just yet, boy.” He grunted as he picked up a fish and gulped it down. As it settled he slumped back, rubbing at his middle. Even when he reached for another he couldn’t bring himself to actually pick it up, his belly churning noisily.

The son saw his chance as his father fell back. Picking up the last two fish from the plate Alex opened wide and stuffed them into his mouth. It was almost agonizing to chew and swallow, his shirt now little more than coverage for his plush chest. His entire gut was exposed as he gulped down the fish. A rumbling belch spilled out as he slumped back, holding his belly. “Ooooh… I w-win...”

“Ah… heh,” Big Al slowly nodded, trying to smile. “Yeah, you did, sport. Like I said. No more talk about the radio station.”

Alex grinned, hefting himself up and patting his Dad on the shoulder, his massive belly taut like a timpani drum. “Maybe I can go in with you tomorrow morning.”

Big Al beamed. “We’ll have fun, sport. You’ll see!”

March 20th came and went, and although it was officially spring, there was nearly six inches of snow on the ground in Nanukiwok, and showed no signs of stopping. The Trent family was gathered for dinner, minus Dana; Darla and Alex now had a new nephew to worry about. Beth was in her usual seat, listening to Big Al. “Ah, he’s going to be great. Alex will be taking over for me soon on Sundays and Saturdays. God, I can’t remember when I had the weekend off.”

“It seems like he came home just yesterday,” Ellie shook her head, before turning to Beth. “Are you sure you two want to move downtown so soon?”

The beefy raccoon grinned. “We’ll be fine. I think sooner or later, Alex is going to need a place with an elevator.”

“Hah, he’s a Trent. No matter how big he gets, he’ll be strong enough to carry it all! That’s what we keep you around for, right Beth?” Big Al grinned, nudging the raccoon.

“I’ll do my best,” she smirked, patting her arm, her bicep the size of a cantaloupe. “I can still carry him, if not.”

“You might have to, if he doesn’t get down here!” Ellie called up the staircase. “Dinner’s ready, Alex!”

“In a minute, Mom!” her son called back. “I’m just throwing on a shirt.”

“Alex, now! The food is getting cold. If you don’t get down here soon, we’re starting without you!” Ellie demanded.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” There was an ominous, booming rhythm overhead, and then the stairs began to shake; those not in the know could have been forgiven for thinking that an avalanche had somehow managed to come tumbling down the stairs, a sheer wall of fluffy white bulk, spilling over the stair rail and down the steps. Any vestige of the olympic athlete was buried under heavy layers of lard; Beth made sure his legs were strong enough to support his mass, if only just. The walk down the stairs had Alex pausing to catch his breath, his blubbery thunder thighs each the size of most men’s waists still jiggling as they rolled off one another. His belly, sticking out farther than his father’s, a giant snowball bigger than most of the furniture in the house, hung down to his knees. The vast, white landscape of his billowy frame was topped by a doughy, marshmallow chest, as his fat-swaddled arms rested against his prominent love handles. Alex still grinned at his family, dimpling his round cheeks. 

“So… what’re we having? I’m starving!”