Shere Khan's Expanding Business (Patreon)

For our first story this month, and for our $5/$10 patrons, Shere Khan learns just how profitable fast food can be, especially for his bottom line.

Shere Khan was staring holes into the black panther in an ill-fitting aviator’s jacket across his desk. A broad-shouldered tiger dressed in a sharp tailored suit, the tycoon of Shere Khan Industries loomed over his pilot, cutting an intimidating figure. He was drumming his claws on his desktop, adding to an already heavy tension.

“Explain yourself,” Shere Khan growled.

“U-uh, Mr. Khan…” The black panther couldn’t hold his breath any longer. His butterball gut bounced forward, forcing a button to pop off his uniform and clatter noisily on Shere Khan’s desk, making the tiger’s expression sour as he arched his brow higher.

“Captain,” the tiger drawled, spearing the button with one claw. “I have high, exacting standards for my pilots, both professional and physical. Do you think your added weight properly represents this company?”

“S-sir, I’m sorry if my standards have fallen, uh, lax…”

Shere Khan scoffed, expertly flicking the button into a waste paper basket. “If they were any more lax, I would do better to contact Ms. Cunningham and Higher for Hire. What happened?”

“Well, sir, I just fell into a bad habit…”

“Yes, I believe it’s called overeating.”

The black panther winced. “Mr. Khan, it’s this new burger joint. There’s nowhere else like it in Cape Suzette. It’s booming; everyone goes there, I just… indulged a little too much.”

The tiger’s expression was unreadable. “Take a leave of duty, captain. A brief one. The moment you fit into your uniform properly, I expect you back on duty.”

The panther blinked. “So… I’m not fired?”

Shere Khan leaned back, tenting his fingers. “That depends on how many obvious questions you ask.” The panther balked and began to retreat, but a sudden notion came to the tiger. “A moment, captain. What did you say the name of this restaurant was, again?”

“Ah… Mr. Khan?” Sometime later, the tiger’s PA crackled with his secretary’s nervous voice.

“What is it, Northley?”

“There’s a Mr. Baloo here to see you, sir.” Shere Khan frowned silently. Was he certain that he wanted to do this? The bear was a mildly irritating acquaintance, at the best of times.

“Send him in,” Khan said, through slightly gritted teeth.

The doors to his jungle-like office opened, admitting the familiar figure of a grey bear in a red cap and too-small shirt that was looking smaller than usual. Shere Khan’s stony visage cracked as his eyes boggled. Baloo’s gut had ballooned, sloshing and jostling with each waddling step.

“Hey, Khany, been a while since you called me for a visit!” Baloo chuckled. “This business, or did you just miss me?”

“Droll, Baloo, as always.” Shere Khan gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat.”

The bear did so, smiling nervously. The chair groaned ominously under him as his belly filled his lap. “Uh, how can I help you, Khany?”

“What do you know about a restaurant called Big Bear’s?” the tiger asked, a discreet nod to his oversized gut. “I have a feeling you’re familiar.”

“Oh, Big Bear’s? They’re great!” Baloo chuckled, shaking his belly for emphasis and letting it jiggle where he sat. “Boy! I ain’t ever had a burger like that before. Me and Li’l Britches, sometimes we go for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Though, heh, he ain’t so Li’l anymore, if you get my drift.”

“I just might,” Shere Khan said with a wry smirk. “Do you happen to know the owner? I’ve heard some of my employees mention the food there, and I might wish to… observe some of their methods.”

Baloo furrowed his brow. Shere Khan was never quite so dangerous than when he was smiling. “Uh, forgive me, Khany— Mr. Khan— but uh, your company doesn’t really seem like the burger joint kind of place.”

“I have fingers in many pies, Baloo, that’s how I stay on top. I just want to have a friendly conversation with a fellow businessman. A proper tradesman can learn something from any profession.”

The bear nodded slowly. “Right, well… owner’s a nice guy, small guy. You wouldn’t expect, right? Thin as a rail, ol’ Cody. Cody Burton. He’s friendly, if mousy… though, you know, might be ‘cause he’s a mouse…” 

Shere Khan betrayed no expression. “Mm. And… how is business for him?” 

“Oh, well, he’s a little stretched thin, openin’ up his second location in downtown…”

That got Shere Khan’s attention. “This isn’t his first venture, is it? You mean to tell me Mr. Burton is an entrepreneur?”

“Oh, well. It is, yeah, I guess… he comes from out west.”

The tiger was smiling wider. “Thank you, Baloo. I was only curious. I’m afraid that I’ve got appointments piling up. I trust you’ll stop by the cafeteria and have a treat on me, for your time?”

Baloo tried not to look nervous as he stood up. “Right, uh, thanks…” The bear left Shere Khan to his plotting, and as soon as he stepped into the elevator— well, after a quick stop by the cafeteria to grab the biggest pastry he could find on Shere Khan’s dime— he rushed to the nearest Big Bear’s to warn Cody to prepare for a particular visitor.

Shere Khan decided very quickly that he did not care for the ambience of Big Bear’s. The restaurant was guarded by a large, plaster statue of a smiling bear in checkered overalls holding up a tray with a huge hamburger, and the interior did not improve his opinion; vinyl booths, obnoxiously bright hues of blue plastering the walls, and packed to the rafters. People huddled around crowded tables as waitresses in loud, tacky uniforms carried trays laden with burgers, fries, and shakes.

“Hi, hon!” One of the waitresses called out to Shere Khan. “How many in your party, Mr…?”

The tiger bristled. “Khan, my dear. Shere Khan. And I was hoping the owner would be in. I’d like a word with him.”

The waitress ogled the tiger for a moment. “Right… right, I’ll go ask Mr. Burton if he can see you.”

“You do that.” Shere Khan pushed past the crowd, dusting off an empty stool at the counter then tenting his fingers, earning strange looks from the other patrons.

Cody Burton only dared a quick look out the kitchen window at the sharply dressed, broad-shouldered tiger sitting at the counter, perched like he was ready to pounce. The mouse let out a small whine, mopping his forehead. He had been warned by that nice bear pilot to expect Mr. Khan, but he only had a day to prepare any sort of plan. Brushing back a strand of his grey fur, Cody put on his bravest smile before pushing through the door.

“M-mr. Khan?” he squeaked, then cleared his throat to speak with a fuller voice. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting, we’re just finishing our lunch rush.”

“Not at all, Mr. Burton,” Shere Khan gave a smile that did little to put the mouse at ease. “You have responsibilities. Taxing ones, I imagine, for someone so new to city life. I’ve come to offer my services.”

“Oh, well, golly, we just hired a new dish boy, heh,” Burton chuckled.

To the mouse’s great relief, Shere Khan grinned, letting out a snort that probably passed for a laugh. “Indeed. I was considering, rather… well, let’s call it an investment, for now.”

Cody paused, eyes like a deer caught in headlights. “You know, Mr. Khan, that is a very generous offer… I don’t like seeing people leave my restaurant with empty stomachs, so why don’t I get you a Big Bear’s Burger, on the house?”

The tiger started to hold up his hand. “Oh, I couldn’t accept—“

“It’ll be ready in just a second, Mr. Khan!” the mouse dashed behind the kitchen door, breathing a sigh of relief as soon as the tiger was out of sight.

“Doris!” He tugged on the hem of one of his waitress’ apron. “You know that… special sauce I only use for our, uhm, quality guests? I’m going to need the whole jar.”

The waitress, a pleasantly plump cat with a chest Cody could lose his face in, balked. “But Mr. Burton, you said more than a drop of that could—“

“I know what I said, Doris, just trust me. The whole jar.” 

The mouse’s hands were shaking as he rolled a new patty, slathering it in a buttery substance then letting it sizzle. He held up his hand, snatching the plate from Doris. “I’ll take care of this one.” Sliding the slab of beef onto a bun, Burton was careful to make it the best looking burger he could, then rushed out to the counter, where Shere Khan was watching him like a hawk. The mouse could feel himself going white until the tiger finally blinked.

“Here you are, Mr. Khan, one Big Bear burger, on the house!”

Shere Khan looked down at the burger. “Regrettably, Mr. Burton, none of your staff have provided me with silverware.”

The mouse stared for a moment. “You… you have had a burger before, haven’t you, Mr. Khan?”

“Regrettably,” Shere Khan looked up at Burton. “No.”

“It— you eat it like a sandwich. With your hands.”

“Ah, well then,” the tiger muttered, picking up the burger by balancing it on his claws to avoid actually touching it. He sniffed it once, then took a bite. Cody was watching closely, and breathed deeply when he saw the tiger’s eyes dilate. Shere Khan’s hands suddenly clenched around the burger as he shoved as much of it into his hungry maw as possible. He somehow managed to keep most of his manners as he devoured the sandwich— his tailored suit was spared— and by the end of it, breathing quickly and dabbing his cheeks, he cleared his throat. 

“Well, Mr. Burton, that was… quite a new sensation. Mightn’t I have another?”

The mouse grinned, leaning over the counter. “Of course, sir… for twenty five cents. Fifty cents gets you a double cheeseburger, fries, and a shake.”

Shere Khan reached into his wallet, pushing a twenty dollar bill into Cody’s hand. “You may keep the change. I’ll let you know when I’ve had enough.”

The mouse’s eyes bounced as he pocketed the bill. “Yes, yes of course sir!” He rushed back into the kitchen, shouting for his chef. “Greg! Keep the burgers coming! Give Mr. Khan whatever he wants!”

Doris, the waitress still holding the jar of Cody’s secret sauce, stared blankly at her boss. “Did… you still need this, Mr. Burton?”

“No, no.” Cody patted Doris’ shoulder, sliding the lid onto the jar. “I think this’ll do the trick.”

Doris, lowering her voice, shifted uncomfortably. “Can’t we get in trouble for this, boss?”

Cody grinned. “There’s nothing illegal in the sauce… just something that will affect Mr. Khan, in particular.”

“But, why are we doing it to Mr. Khan?”

The mouse sighed, leading Doris into a corner. “Because. If you’re cornered by a tiger, he’s a lot less likely to maul you if he’s already full. He wants to buy us out… but if he’s too distracted with our burgers to ever mention it, we stay independent, with the richest man in Cape Suzette as a loyal fan.”

“You sure this won’t backfire on us, Mr. Burton?” Doris asked as a tray laden with burgers passed by them.

Cody was about to respond, then the tray came back. “The tiger wants bacon on all of these, boss! And extra patties.”

The mouse smirked at Doris. “I think you’re worrying too much. Open up a tab for the esteemed Shere Khan; I have a feeling he’s going to need it.”

A few weeks after Shere Khan discovered Big Bear’s for himself, the mogul was called to speak at a charity dinner. “U-uh, Mr. Khan, can you uhm…” the tiger’s secretary Northley gulped audibly as he looked up at Shere Khan, who glowered as the other tiger held an unfastened cummerbund in his shaking hands. “...Suck in your gu— middle! Suck in your middle? Torso. Abs!”

“Enough, Northley,” Khan snarled, taking in a deep breath as he sucked in his stomach. His secretary just barely managed to fasten the cummerbund around Shere Khan’s waist before slipping on his tuxedo jacket, though a thick layer of flesh spilled out over the waistline, billowing out his shirt.

“Are you… comfortable, sir?”

Shere Khan nodded stiffly. “Yes. Of course,” he said breathlessly. “How much time do I have before I make my speech?”

“You’re on in ten, sir.”

Shere Khan stroked his chin. “Enough time for an aperitif. Northley, the bag.”

His secretary, brow furrowed, reached for a greasy Big Bear’s take-out bag, loaded with at least a half dozen burgers. Unwrapping the first one handed to him, Shere Khan devoured the burger in four clean bites. “Have one for yourself, Northley. For your trouble tonight.”

Northley, himself a much smaller tiger than Shere Khan even before his recent “fascination” with fast food, blinked. Shere Khan never offered to share a meal. “Are… you quite sure, sir?”

“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have said it,” the larger tiger waved it off. Relaxing his middle, the persistent butterball gut he had acquired recently filled out his tuxedo, and both Shere Khan and Northley paused with nervous anticipation as they heard the sound of tightening, stretching fabric. Shere Khan gave a sigh of relief when everything held. “Another one, then,” he snapped his fingers. “For the nerves.”

“It’s your third one, sir…”

“And the one I just graciously gave you will be my fourth, if you keep stating the obvious,” the tiger snapped. “Now eat it and hand me another.”

Northley bit into it, and Shere Khan watched carefully, his hand outstretched for his own. He watched as his secretary’s eyes dilated, and Northley lost some of his nervousness to dig into his burger.

“O-oh, Mr. Khan, this is great!”

“I know, Northley, I know,” Shere Khan muttered inbetween bites of his own burger, tugging on his tuxedo jacket as he felt it tighten with each bite. He heard his musical cue. “Call for my tailor. I’ll need these trousers let out.”

“Ah-hain?” the smaller tiger slurred between bites, unthinkingly grabbing a second burger.

“Yes, Northley, again!” Shere Khan snapped, making his way for the stage. “And there better be something left after my speech, or I might just eat you.”

The secretary nearly choked on his burger; he wasn’t entirely certain anymore if that was merely an empty threat, as one of Shere Khan’s buttons popped off.

As the weeks bled into months, and Cody was handling near daily orders from Khan Tower, the mouse began to realize just how deep the tiger’s pockets went. It was hectic work keeping up with Khan’s increasing appetite, and he even found himself thinking up new menu items tailor-made for his best customer. 

Still, he told himself, it was worth it, even if literally no one else in Cape Suzette was willing to try new burger specials like the Caviar Double or Truffles and Swiss. At the very least, Cody found himself walking into Khan Tower with a spring in his step, even if he was weighed down by the massive lunch order cradled in his arms.

”Delivery for Mr. Khan!” he called out to the receptionist seated in the tower’s luxurious, marble-clad lobby. The mink behind the desk didn’t even look up from her magazine as she pushed a button, gilded elevator doors sliding open; Shere Khan’s lunch orders had just become part of the regular routine. 

Cody rode up to the top of the skyscraper, where he was met with Khan’s secretary. He hadn’t met Northley until a week ago, when Shere Khan was finally willing to pay a delivery fee directly to his office, so Burton had no way of knowing that the tiger behind the desk hadn’t always been so pear-shaped. As the smell of Big Bear’s burgers hit his nostrils, Northley shot up, his round gut bouncing off his desk. 

“Oh! Burton! Mr. Khan’s not in his office,” Northley said, eyeing the bags in the mouse’s arms hungrily. “He’s in the boardroom, meeting with, uhm… the board.” The tiger licked his lips, making his double chin jiggle slightly. “You’re to go right on in, he’ll be looking for an excuse to call for lunch.”

“Oh, well, alright then,” Cody muttered, tossing a bag marked with Northley’s name. The chubby tiger immediately tore open his lunch, eagerly biting into his juicy burger. Crossing the threshold of the penthouse floor, Cody pushed into a pair of double doors.

“Ah, here at last!” Shere Khan called from the head of a massive, polished table. “Bring it here, Mr. Burton, we were just about to break for lunch as it is.”

Cody tried not to stare. Shere Khan was twice the tiger he was when he first walked in to Big Bear’s. His tailors had been hard at work providing him with suits that managed to encase his expanding frame, at least to a point. Gold buttons strained to hold a pinstripe jacket across a belly bigger than Cody’s entire body, the fabric taut as a drum. A double chin was blossoming out of his stiff collar, and as he leaned forward, his flabby bulk spilled over the table. Cody could only glance at the circumference of his wide hips; Shere Khan was still keeping up with belts, though where he found a belt that could stretch out from one end of the table to the other, Cody couldn’t begin to guess.

As the mouse walked the length of the table, he couldn’t keep his eyes off some of the other board members, and a realization settled in. He passed a doberman, still lean and broad-shouldered in a nicely tailored suit, then a tabby cat, pear-shaped with trousers that looked fit to burst. A reedy fox with a too-big suit, then a borderline obese lion in a much too-small suit. Two leopards, noticeably chubby, were next before he reached Shere Khan. All the felines, all of whom were overweight, were watching him, their eyes wide and licking their lips meaningfully. The mouse gulped, eyes wide. Things just backfired.

“You, uhm,” Cody coughed as he stacked up Shere Khan’s irresponsibly large order. “You’ve been sharing your lunch with some of the others?”

“And why should I not?” Shere Khan quirked a brow, doling out the burgers. “These are some of the finest sustenance in the city; and for how inexpensive they are, I can certainly afford it. Or is it that you find it hard to believe that I can share with others?”

Cody ventured a nervous chuckle, praying that was meant as a joke. Shere Khan swung a thickly padded arm around the mouse’s shoulders, slamming him against his billowing side. “I must admit, Mr. Burton, I did not think much of your establishment when I first walked in, but now, myself and a good number of the board are devout converts, aren’t I right, Simmons?”

The particularly obese lion, second only to Shere Khan in size, nodded enthusiastically, his chubby cheeks stuffed with beef patty. 

“I was just saying that Cape Suzette is in need of more enterprising entrepreneurs like you, Burton. Do tell me, with business going so well, are you scouting out locations for a new franchise?”

Cody, mashed between thick reams of tiger flab, nodded. “I-I mean, certainly. Cape Suzette has been very kind to us.”

“Well! You’ll be one to watch. I don’t have anything to worry about, do I?” Shere Khan chuckled, making his belly jiggle, lapping against Cody.

“Haha, no, no! O-of course not.” Cody glanced nervously at all the literal fat cats around him. 

“Though… mightn’t I be of some service?” Shere Khan asked. “I assure you, I don’t want Big Bear’s going anywhere anytime soon. I have an offer I think you will find most attractive… we thought Big Bear’s should come to Khan Tower. If only so you don’t have to make the trek out here.”

Cody’s eyes boggled. “Wait, really?”

“It’s not as if Simmons is going to make the walk, either,” Shere Khan chuckled again. “Of course, we will need to talk about a few matters of exclusivity, managing rights… nothing too intrusive. There was a day where we would have come in to buy you out, but now, we’re coming as loyal customers. I’m sure we can come to an arrangement… I’m not one to beg, but Burton, my dear man, we can’t live without Big Bear’s burgers.”

Cody looked up at Shere Khan, then across at the table, crowded with lots of eager, fat, and most importantly, hungry faces. Cody was going to say no, then he realized that as fat as some of these cats were, their wallets might be even fatter. “I would be happy to talk, Mr. Khan, sure.”

A year after Big Bear’s opened its doors in Cape Suzette, its third location in the atrium of Khan Tower had quickly become its most popular venue. The city’s newly crowned “burger king” Cody walked into Khan’s office, frowning slightly as he cautiously crossed the jungle-like floor, clutching a series of papers. “Ah, Mr. Khan, I looked over these new marketing ideas your PR branch sent me…” Cody squinted and cocked his head, the tall window behind Shere Khan’s desk blinding him; he could only see the vaguely spherical outline of the tiger in his throne-like chair, which had been reinforced three times in recent months.

“Ah, good, excellent, Burton!” Shere Khan spun around, a wide grin on his increasingly wide face. Shere Khan was between suits, again; a thick apron of cream-colored fur spilled out from under his shirt, overflowing the space between his legs, which were each now wider than they were long by a vast margin. Cody was baffled as to how his desk chair even still had armrests, amazed they could still barricade against the avalanche of his sides. The tiger’s own arms, thickly padded with blubber, threatened to burst out of his tailored sleeves, and his impressive jawline had morphed into a thick layer of chins, obscuring the top of his collar and most of his tie. “What do you think?”

Cody hesitated, unsure if Khan was asking about his embodiment of the term “fat cat” or the marketing ideas. 

“I quite liked them, myself,” the tiger clarified, gesturing to the papers in Cody’s hand.

“Uhm…” Cody cleared his throat, laying one piece of a mock-up for Big Bear’s mascot on the table. “This doesn’t… look like a bear.”

“Oh?”

“It’s a tiger, sir. With the stripes.”

Shere Khan stroked his multiple chins as he plucked the paper from his desk, belly spilling over the top. “Ah, I suppose from a certain angle…”

“Look, Mr. Khan, I was willing to try out the new decor and the new vendors, but I’ve got to put my foot down on this one. I can’t have a tiger for a mascot when the restaurant is called ‘Big Bear’s.’”

The tiger’s eyes flashed, and he flexed his claws; really, the only part of his immense, flabby body he could flex. “Oh?”

“Khan Industries is supposed to act in a strictly consulting role. Now, I’ve been consulted, but this time, I think I’ll go with my gut.” He coughed, demurely glancing down at the multiple spare tires spilling out of Shere Khan’s suit. “No pun intended.”

Shere Khan’s brow quirked, then he finished off the burger he was holding in his hand. “Mm, that is a pity. I was hoping you would be more keen to learn from a more experienced hand, Mr. Burton. I must say, I really think this new mascot could be just the thing to get sales up. After all, a tiger would be more fitting, given how you cater to your feline clientele.”

“I— I don’t know if I follow, Mr. Khan.”

Shere Khan drummed his fingers atop the crest of his belly, leaning back in his chair as it groaned ominously. “Catnip.”

All the color drained from Cody’s face. “C-catnip, sir?”

“Nepeta Cataria, if you prefer.” Shere Khan chuckled mirthlessly. “Come now, Mr. Burton, do you think I became who I am without developing keen senses? It took me but a week to piece together you had slipped something into my food. Admittedly, seeing Baloo as large as he was thas threw me off the scent, but then, I realized Baloo lacks any sort of self control to begin with, unlike me.” His hand automatically reached for another burger.

“After I saw Northley and the other felines of my board develop a taste for such… common fare, it was easy to figure out what you had put in it. I gave you ample time to correct what I’m sure was a gross oversight. No doubt you know catnip is a perfectly harmless ingredient, in small doses, however,” Shere Khan pulled out an official looking piece of paper. “According to the most recent bylaws, as drafted by the Chamber of Commerce that I just so happen to chair, any substances considered to be addictive to any species in the city cannot be used in food preparation, or there are severe legal consequences I won’t bore you with.” Savoring both the moment, and his burger, Shere Khan was smiling again. “I’m sure your hand just slipped, repeatedly, when you were preparing my orders.”

Cody blanched, trying to keep himself from shivering where he stood. “M-Mr. Khan, I--”

“Now, from where I sit, Mr. Burton, there are two options. You take our consulting role more seriously, or, I’m afraid I’ll be unable to protect you from the legal headwinds you find yourself sailing into.”

The mouse opened his mouth to protest, then, with the wind knocked out of him, his shoulders slumped. “Then… I suppose you’ll want me to sign things over, and I’ll be on my way.”

“Oh! Perish the thought, Mr. Burton!” Shere Khan chuckled, all manner of blubber rippling. “I don’t like wasting talent. You’re still welcome to stay on as owner and proprietor, but Khan Industries will be aiding you in a more… hands-on manner.” Shere Khan, finishing off his burgers for the time being, flexed his claws to file them. “You’ll find I’m not ungenerous, when I’m kept happy.”

“Right, Mr. Khan,” Cody took in a deep, bracing breath. “Anything else?”

“Mm… I think it’s time I finally tried one of those delightful sounding milkshakes of yours.”