Vivian’s Sticky Situation: A Paper Mario Weight Gain

--- Once Past The Lips. . .  ---

“Aaaaaah, Mario!” Vivian called out as she was struck viciously by the Shadow Queen. The demon-shade was merciless in her attack, lashing out with darkness. Vivian, though a shade and possibly even distantly related to the Shadow Queen, could not stand up to the attack. She was thrown across the darkened room, crumpled in a corner. The battle raged on, each of the companions doing their best to fight and seal away the eternal evil. Yet, Mario, the hero plumber, stopped in his attack. Rather than try to further damage the Shadow Queen, he jumped and ran over to where Vivian lay. With one gloved hand he cradled her head, putting her iconic hat back on. Vivian whimpered, feeling pain radiate in her body unlike anything she had ever felt before. Yet, she was happy to be held all the same. She had grown close to Mario, enjoying the time that they had spent together in their adventure. From unwilling adversary to closest partner, the shade had grown the most out of the party. She had come to see Mario in more heroic light than any of the other companions. “Please, don’t. . .worry about. . .me.” She said, trying to control herself. “It’s the others. . .stop the Shadow Queen!” Vivian said, forcing the words out from her bruised chest.

Yet, Mario wouldn’t bite. Without saying a word, he shook his head. Vivian was too weak to question his behavior. Rather than leave her, her hero hugged her and pulled out a small pot of honey syrup. He dusted it off and tipped it to Vivian’s lips. It was gooey, sticky, and sweet. There was a bit of kick to the syrup as if it had been infused with something else. A warmth spread through Vivian’s body as she drank the thick syrup. She felt better, healed slightly from the effects of the syrup. A blush crept into her face. “Tha-thank you. . .Mario.” She reached up and patted his cheek, wishing she had the confidence to do more. Mario gave her a warm thumbs up, helping her to gingerly stand. Vivian was small and slight, perhaps the smallest member of the party. Even next to Mario or Goombella, she seemed small and weak. Yet, she had proven herself time and time again in skill and loyalty. She would continue to fight, using every last ounce of her ability against anyone who threatened the peace of the world. Vivian and Mario raced back to the fight, ready to stop the Shadow Queen for good.

The ensuing battle was terrible. Though victorious, the party was badly damaged. Time and time again, Vivian was knocked down or injured. Yet, each time Mario produced a pot of healing syrup to help soothe her. Over and over the sweet taste filled her mouth. She shivered as she tasted it, feeling the warmth spread through her body. It was comforting to feel, almost as much a comfort as Mario’s presence. Throughout the battle she was topped off again and again, exposed more to the yellow glow of the syrup. The battle continued and the Shadow Queen was finally thrown down. The team was left standing around, licking their wounds and dusting each other off. Vivian hovered close to Mario, searching for the right words to say to him. She wanted to connect, reinforce the deep bond that she felt, but struggled to find the words. Finally, she managed to stammer:

“Mario. . .do you have any more of that syrup?” Vivian said, nervously wringing her hands together. “May. . .maybe we could go get some together?”

--- Bittersweet Goodbye ---

“Mar. . .Mario. . .I . . .I just wanted. . .” Vivian spoke as she and the other members of the party gathered on the docks of Rogueport to bid the leader of the party goodbye. It had been a brief but bittersweet affair, with each party member saying a few words to commemorate the time that they spent together. The other party members had all gotten their say and it had come down to the shadowy woman to say the final goodbye. She was tucked in the back, almost like she was trying to hide from the experience. Yet, hiding had gotten a little more difficult for her. Firstly, because of the adventure she had been on. Her time with Mario and the other members of the party had brought Viv out of her shell a little bit. Away from the mean and domineering personalities of her sisters, Vivian had been free to find out who she truly was. She couldn’t undo that character growth, even if it was strange and painful to express herself from time to time. Yet, there was another and more practical reason for Viv being unable to hide herself. She was, quite literally, unable to do so. Thanks to the influx of syrup over the adventure, the ghostly purple woman had plumped up noticeably. Her breasts were fuller and more rounded, her hips wider, and her stomach had grown from an adorable potbelly into a full gut. Owing to her added weight, she was even forced to hover lower to the ground. The purple trail of ghostly vapor that connected her to the ground was shorter than before. Yet, Vivian hadn’t minded the changes. Besides having a fatter sister, her newfound confidence made her less apt to caring about such things. However, it aided her little in trying to convey her feelings to her mustached companion.

“The thing is that. . .I need to tell you.” She stammered, a double chin wagging on her round face. “I will always remember our adventure. . .” a blush crept over her face. She put her hands on her belly for comfort, straining to get her thoughts and feelings in order. It was strange to see a fat shade. It almost didn’t make sense. Her fat spread out, forming the body of a very curvaceous woman, but oddly two dimensional looking. It was like she was a living contradiction. Yet, the weight had landed in the right places. Vivian’s breasts had become large and full, big enough to make a certain other, opera singing party member feel inadequate. Her breasts were as big as melons or koopa shells. It would have been obscene, had she not been cloaked in her veil of twilight. Her hips had grown just as nicely, filling out. Though it was not just in those areas that Vivian had grown. Her stomach rolled out, a soft lump of fat that was threatening to divide into two hearty rolls. Her arms, which she held together as she trembled through her goodbye speech, wobbled and jiggled against her large breasts. “I. . .uhh. . .” She really wished that she had a gallon of sugary syrup to help ease her nervousness with. “. . .Don’t forget our friendship!” She finally stammered, floating back into the crowd of onlookers many of whom were shoved out of the way by her flab. The shy shade just oozed an air of contradictory heaviness and etherealness.

Mario, unwilling to let one of his closest companions go without a little more, walked slowly up to the now large shade. He nodded, gave a thumbs up, and then quickly hugged her. Vivian felt her heart skip a beat. Touching the man she loved was more than she ever thought possibly. She and Mario had grown close over their adventure, going from unwilling adversaries to staunch teammates, friends, and possibly something more. The small plumped pressed firmly into his friend’s soft flab. Vivian didn’t know if she could blush in a visible sense, but she certainly was in an emotional sense. “Haahh. . .thank you, Mario.” She said, hugging back and bringing him fully into a doughy huge. She was soft and warm, perfect for final embraces. Even though she hated that this would be their final embrace, it was nice to have it all the same. She knew that the coming weeks and months were going to be hard, but she at least had this moment to treasure. Before breaking apart, she squeezed Mario tightly for a second utterly burying him in her bulk.

--- Coping Mechanism ---

“All she’s been doing is lying around.” Beldam said, slipping her shadowy form through the keyhole that led to Vivan’s room in the Twilight Town Tower. She and her other sister, Marilyn, peeped at their younger, fatter sister. Vivan was laying in bed, her immensity taking up the majority of the small wooden frame. Purple, shadowy fat leaked over the side of the too-small mattress. Vivian lay in the middle, head on a lumpy pillow, and simply stared at the ceiling. She would sigh from time to time, her flabby body inflating time and a half, before sagging back down. The mattress rocked beneath her, unwilling to hold such a hefty body. Vivian had only gotten bigger since Mario’s departure, her depression over her unrequited love deepening to new extremes. Her body was enormous, now close to three times Marilyn’s own size. She was beginning to get stuck in the doorframes of the tower and town, unwilling to bother turning her body sideways or morph even slightly. She would simply sigh and work to tug herself through. The little contrail of purple smoke that anchored her to the ground had grown thicker, bulking up just as much as the rest of her. All in all, Vivian had begun to resemble an overwatered and wilting flower. It was such a concern that even her sisters, who had always had a very dubious relationship with Vivian, had become worried. “Should we do something?” Beldam whispered harshly.

“GUH!” was Marilyn’s reply. The middle sister rarely said more. The point was taken all the same by Beldam.

“Yes, yes. She also eats lots of syrup. Thank you.” Beldam said, shaking her head. With Vivian out of commission, the eldest sister was running out of options for good council. “The whole town knows that. Practically all of the countryside too.” Beldam turned from her sister and back to the keyhole just in time to see Vivian pick up a large pot of syrup and dump it straight into her mouth. The golden liquid slopped everywhere splashing the walls, the bed frame, and Vivian’s body. She continued to pour the syrup, allowing it to fill her mouth and run down the sides of her face. She then mulled it over, sucking and slurping it down. Flecks of gold languished on her body, sticking between rolls and in deep crevices. Vivian made little effort to clean herself. “Good lord, that is gross.” Beldam said, shaking her head. She was fighting internally with herself, trying to figure out what course of action to take. Niceness and acts of virtue were simply not in her nature, yet she had made a promise to her younger sister. Loyalty, if nothing else, Beldam valued. She turned back to Marilyn, who looked interested in the syrup almost as much as Vivian. “We’re going to have to talk to her.” Beldam said, pointing harshly at her plump sister. “Put your nice face on! Don’t saying anything stupid!”

“GUH!”

Beldam put her hand to her forehead, feeling a migraine coming on. Turning away from her sister, she twisted the knob and floated into Vivian’s room. “Heeeey, Sis, Maryilyn and I wanted to take a second to talk to you. Vivian looked at them, face downcast, before grabbing another pot of syrup and pouring it into her mouth. Beldam worked hard not to shudder with disgust as sticky, golden sap leaked down her sister’s immense body. Vivian’s stomach swelled, becoming visibly stuffed by the syrup. It would not take too many more pots in order for her to swell up big enough to break the bed for good. Even now, Beldam could see it warping in the middle, just under Vivian’s soft rump. “It will only take a second. We just wanted to check up on our favorite sister. Is that ok?” Beldam floated closer to Vivian, though she was only rewarded with a massive blech flying from her young sister’s mouth. The belch was so forceful that Vivian’s body jiggled and flecks of syrup flew from her lips. She heaved herself over onto her side, to grab at another pot. Her arms wobbled and shook, quaking back and forth as she worked. Her breasts slid and thumped onto the mattress. Vivian finally got her quarry, but remained on her side. She ate the syrup with her hands, spooning it into her mouth.

“Yesch . . .BBBLLUUURRRP. . .thatsch. . .uurrrp. . .mmpgh. . .fine. . .I supposch.” Vivan ate with her hand sloppily. She mashed the syrup into her mouth, sending it flying. Beldam scooted back a space, running into Marilyn, who had not been paying attention. Vivian’s entire body shook and rocked as she ate. Her huge ass bounced against the wall as her breasts slapped against each other. She licked the syrup from her fingers, trying to sample every bit of sugar that she possibly could. Beldam winced with each handful, not liking to see her sister this way. A pool of syrup had been forming between her belly rolls, now, turned on her side, that syrup came leaking out slowly. “Whatsch. . .uuuulllp. . .thisch. . .mmpghp. . .brrruuuaaapp. . .about?” she spoke sloppily, her voice wavering even behind the gluttony. Trails of syrup ran down her face as she looked over at her older sister.

“Well, uh, we. . .just need a moment!” Beldam floated out of the room, dragging Marilyn with her. They rounded the corner just as they heard the sloppy sounds of syrup gorging begin again. For a moment, just before the noise of gluttony started again in earnest, Beldam was sure that she heard a little whimper. She stopped, listening to the noise of despondency and gluttony, pinching her temples. It was so frustrating being good, but it was necessary. . .if only for Vivian. pulling Marilyn along, she raced to the bottom of the tower. Beldam paced in silent but visible frustration while Marilyn looked on in her usual dopey way. “AAAAAGGHHH. . .why is being nice so hard?!” Beldam broke her silence after a couple more passes of the tower, smacking a gloved hand on the stone wall. While not stupid, Beldam found her brain clouded and blocked. It was hard for a creature possessed of so much rottenness to think of positivity and cheery things. Her mind kept returning to Vivian as she lay in her bed, dousing herself in syrup. Beldam shuddered, not really getting the appeal. Yet, her mind kept coming back. It had to be significant somehow “Hmmmm. . .aaahh!” Beldam snapped her fingers and then shaking Marilyn. “I think the syrup is the key! What if we worked with that a little more?” Marilyn nodded absentmindedly. “We use that to distract Vivian from her love life. Yes!” Beldam, pleased with herself, began to tug and drag Marilyn out of the tower.

----

Later, Beldam and Marilyn reentered Vivian’s room. The large shade was asleep on her bed, purple fat encompassing most of the mattress. She was stained by the yellow syrup that she had been constantly ingesting. Trails of golden yellow fluid ran from her mouth, down between her larger breasts, and in and out of her stomach rolls. With each light snore, her body jiggled. Once and a while she would sleepily adjust a breast or scratch a roll. Beldam paused, wondering if she should even wake her sleeping sister, at least when she was sleeping she had some measure of peace. However, her natural confidence reasserted itself. She would wake her sister and her plan would work! Beldam pushed the door open, hovering in with Marilyn in tow. She approached Vivian’s bed and lightly shook her sister. For a moment Beldam marveled at how soft and doughy Vivan had become. It was like her personality had manifested onto her body. She had grown up with Marilyn’s own rotundness, but this seemed different somehow. Like it Vivan’s shape was both extremely wrong and right for her to have. “Viv. . .hey. . .Viv.” Beldam whispered as she shook her sister.

“Oh, morning, sister.” Vivan said slowly waking up. She stretched, her flabby arms shaking and wobbling as she worked herself from her slumber. The bed creaked below her. What had once been perfectly sized for someone as small and delightfully petite as Vivian had now become woefully too small. She hiked herself up into a semi-sitting position, her rolls becoming even more noticeable. “What do you need?” She asked, disinterest entering her voice as sleep left it. “If you go to town, could you bring me some more syrup?” She asked quickly, her mind returning to a familiar place.

“Well, no. . .but that’s because we already went.” Beldam said, cringing as she saw Vivian's downcast face. “But we did pick you up something!” The eldest shadow sister threw in quickly. Vivian’s face became curious and confused. Whatever her depression, her sisters bringing a gift was too strange to ignore. “You are going to have to get out of bed for them though.” Beldam was nudged out of the way as Marilyn floated forward to grasp and pull at her fatter sister’s arm. Vivian relented mostly out of curiosity. Truthfully, she wanted to roll in bed and bury her feelings in sticky, sweet syrup. However, there would be plenty of time for that later. At the moment she was interested in what her sisters were giving her. The bed creaked and groaned under her weight as she struggled upwards. Vivian moved so rarely now that it was surprising how hard it was for her. She had never been a strong woman and the addition of several hundred pounds of fat did not help either. The bed warped and bent in the middle, clearly breaking under the concentrated shade-blubber. It could better handle Vivan’s mass when it was spread out. Thankfully, the weight was soon lifted from the bed; though it would bear the scars for a time to come.

The trio made their way slowly down the tower. Vivan listed from side to side, holding and hefting her massive stomach. It was well on its way to subdividing into smaller, yet dense rolls. A couple levels down the tower and she was huffing and puffing. It was so much easier to lay in bed, drain pots of syrup, and mope. Yet, there was some sort of reward at the end. She wiped some sweat from where her hat met her browline. Beldam ended up leading the sisters outside and onto the lawn of their tower. The trio stood in front of a hastily erected sheet which covered the present. “Ok, sister! Marilyn and I were thinking and we wanted to give you something to do.” Beldam started, cackling to herself at her own cleverness. “It’s not good for a young lady to lay in her bed and mope all day.” Beldam started to devolve into a lecture, her finger even pointing at Vivian. However, she pulled out before seriously damaging the conversation. “Which is why Marilyn and I wanted to give you something to do. Beeeeehooooollldddd!” Beldam grasped the sheet and tugged.

Revealed were three little green plants, out of place in the dying landscape around them. A sign bearing a hasty scrawl was buried in the ground next to the plants, partially askew. It read “Vivian’s Sryup Farm.” Beldam and Marilyn looked pleased, posing next to the sign. However, that pride faded when Beldam noticed the spelling error in the sign. “I knew you shouldn’t have made the sign!” Beldam batted her fist on Marilyn’s bulky shoulder. Marilyn, for her part, still looked pleased with herself. The two only stopped when they felt doughy arms encircling them. Vivian pressed her rotund body onto her sisters, swamping them in soft, warm flab. She sniffled a little bit, little tears falling out from under her hat. Marilyn hugged back first and Beldam, after a momentary groan, also patted her large sister.

“Thank you both. This means a lot.” She sniffed, overcome by emotion. While she was mostly happy that her sister’s had worked together to give her something, attempting to draw her out of her depression, she couldn’t deny she was also happy that she had a new venue to draw syrup from. She let her sister’s go and knelt down by the little plants. She felt the soft leaves, excited for the chance to help something develop and grow. Though she had little idea about farming, she would give it her best shot. Certainly, she knew what good syrup should taste like.

--- Green Thumbs, Unintended Consequences, and a Big Waist ---

Time passed and Vivian worked at the sad little syrup plants that her sisters had bought and planted for her. The soil around the tower was poor as was the sunlight. The little plants soon began to slump and wilt. What might have been an easy bit of horticulture in another climate was an arduous, slogging affair in Twilight Town. Yet, it was precisely this struggle that Vivan needed, though it took a little bit of time for her to adjust. It was hard rolling out of bed and remembering to take care of the syrup plants. Vivian had become so used to do nothing since Mario’s departure. She had only needed to remember to glut herself on syrup, something her body would remind her of even before her brain consciously did it. Yet now she was forced to do more. The first days and weeks were the hardest. She missed waterings and forgot to freshen the soil with fertilizer. Vivian’s days of pouring pot upon pot of golden, sugary liquid into her gob had softened Vivan’s capacity for work. It was hard to remember anything past rolling her bulky body out of bed. Yet, Vivian was not the sort of woman that could let a living being suffer. After each setback she resolved to get better at taking care of the plants, if only so she could savor the taste of hard earned syrup.

Months later, she was ready to tap the plants for their nectar. An alarm rang in Vivan’s darkened bedroom. Vivan stretched a hammy, round arm up from under her covers to search for the alarm clock. Beneath her mass the bed creaked, shuddered, and screamed as weight that well exceeded it’s limits rolled back and forth. Vivian’s arm had only grown thicker as time had gone on. While she was growing her own syrup producing plants, the shade had not planned on kicking her habit in the meantime. Rather, she used it as a reward mechanism. Each day of proper horticulture earned her an evening of indulgence. Paired with her already caring nature, it was a recipe for creating the three most well tended syrup plants in Twilight Town. It was, however, not a recipe for weight loss. Vivan’s weight was, if it wasn’t already, even more out of control than it had been previously. The full extent of her weight and pudge was revealed as she swung herself out of bed. Rolls surged and fell from under the thin blanket she had been using. The weight upon Vivian had made her body even more well defined. Despite her ethereal nature, she was beginning to have the kind of definition that a flesh and blood person would have. Her ass, rather than being simply a rounded shape, had taken on the contours of a 700 pound woman. Divided into two bulging, misshapen, dimpled cheeks it flooded outwards over the bed as Vivian forced herself into a sitting position. The only seating arrangements that could handle her ass now were full sized couches and sofas, though the poor make of them often saw their frames cracked and shattered.

The growing definition on Vivian’s body was not limited to only her butt, though. Vivian’s stomach had formed into three great rolls, each stacked in pancake fashion ontop of the other. She had formed a belly button, if only to see it distorted and deepened by the fat poured upon her. Sleepily, Vivian played with her belly fat, grabbing and dropping the soft rolls. There was a dull sense of disbelief that what she saw belonged to her, especially her breasts. Vivian’s only clothing option had ever been her striped hat, but it was getting more and more likely that she would be asked to cover up her bosom. Huge, hefty breasts lay to either side of her stomach. Bulbous, bountiful receptacles of syrup they were. While missing certain, ultimately defining features of breasts, they were verged on a sort of natural lewdness that was sure to draw too much attention. Yet, Vivian didn’t mind their swinging heaviness as she reached for the ringing alarm clock. Her breasts slapped and bounced off of her other flab as she moved, finally finding and silencing her alarm clock. she smacked the clock with a heavy arm, her soft yet bulging biceps wobbling back and forth. She only had to worry about lifting herself out of bed, which was not an out of bounds concern.

Vivian’s atrophied muscles worked and pushed at her heaving, heaping body. She rose slowly, her folds lurching forward. Her bed cracked further, dropping her precious inches towards the floor. Her bed had been ruined before, now it was truly reaching its death throes. Yet, it would hold for at least one more day. Vivian managed to push herself off of the bed. The obese woman huffed and puffed as she stood in the center of her increasingly tiny room. She hovered closer to the ground now, the little trail of purplish fog that connected her to the ground having grown fat and thick with poundage. Vivian’s “little” trail of smoke almost looked like it was taking on the form of fattened legs pushed close together, but that was less noticeable than the shapes and forms the rest of her mass took on. After a minute’s worth of heavy panting, Vivian was recovered enough that she could float-waddle her way down the tower to her precious plants. For a creature that did not walk, the fattest shadow sister certainly had a dedicated waddle now. Her hips thrust side to side in a saunter that was as unintentional as it was fetching. Her large buttocks clapped and shook, sometimes hitting the side walls of passages with their enormity. Floorboards and even the stony flooring (loose from years of neglect) bent under Vivian’s passing. She huffed and puffed her way down the stairs, face reddening from the attempt of basic locomotion. This tiny amount of exercise, waddling up and down the tower, was enough to keep her mobile but it was a loosing battle. It was obvious to anyone watching that Vivian was losing a war of attrition to gravity, her fatness acting as a traitor against her.

Yet, she managed to get outside all the same. Taking huge, shuddering breaths she arrived at her plants. Sweat dotted her forehead under her hat as well as forming in her rolls, folds, and secret places. She had to stop and double over to rest, her triple-chair-crushing ass splayed wide for anyone behind her to see. Her stomach bunched about her knees, teardrop shaped breasts flopping to either side of her gut. Beldam and Marilyn watched their sister from a window midway up the tower, shaking their heads at the state of their youngest sister. Yet, after several minutes of recovery time, Vivian straightened and finished the small walk over to her plants. She beamed as she saw them. Despite the sorry soil, lackluster sun coverage, and general state of decay that prevailed in Twilight Town, the plants looked strong and healthy. They had grown almost as tall as Vivian, their stalks thickened to the point where they could be reliably tapped for syrup. Vivian was dying to tap them as well. Her hunger for homemade syrup could not be sated!

Leaning into the first plant, she brought out her tools. Her chest thudded nervously. It was exciting and terrifying to perform what amounted to plant based surgery. She didn’t know if she could have the death of an innocent, living being on her hands, especially something that she had raised. Gingerly, she drilled into the first plant. Each turn of the little drill made her wince. Eventually, she hit the proper depth and retracted the drill. With practiced delicacy, she took a bamboo tube and knocked it into the fresh hole using a little hammer. Her body jiggled with each knock, her fat shifting forward and back. It was comical to see a woman so large and heavy working on a plant so thin. Without stopping to admire her work, she moved onto the next plant. It went as well as the first, Vivian feeling less nervous about what she was doing. The third plant went the easiest of all. Before long she was staring at the plants, wondering if and when the syrup would come out. She had never seen the part of the process before, having only sampled the fruits of other people’s labor. She waited anxiously, hoping that she had done nothing wrong. Agonizing seconds passed. Her fat broadened shoulders slumped, failure draping over them. She was just about to slump back to her bedroom, when she noticed a little golden hue coming from one of the pipes.

A small but thin stream of syrup poured out of the first plant. Vivian was so happy that she jumped with joy, her landing shaking the ground around her. She had successfully raised her plants to syrup production! She pressed her meaty hands to her chest, wiggling back and forth happily. She stopped only when she heard a growl from her stomach, possible addiction taking back over. Vivian approached the plant nervously, feeling naked as she reached a trembling hand towards the little stream of syrup. What if it didn’t taste good? Wasn’t that the same thing as failure? The taste of syrup was the true test of her skills and ability. Vivian allowed a dollop of syrup to form on her gloved hand. She would know if she had been successful, she was a connoisseur of the stuff at this point. With her doughy arm shaking, she brought the golden liquid to her mouth and sucked it down tentatively.

It was amazing. Through all of her syrup binges Vivian had never tasted anything so good. She immediately stuck her hand back under, filling it completely before bringing it to her mouth. Another gulp followed, then a third. Finally, sick of waiting, Vivian laid on the ground and stuck her mouth under the syrup spigot. Bathed in the syrup, she happily slurped and sucked it down. Soon, the other plants began to give up their goods. Vivian happily rolled between the three, becoming sticky and covered in delicious syrup quickly. Her rolls were bathed in the stuff, shining with a little golden light. “Yyyeeessccchh. . .mmpppgh. . .schoo. . .good!” Vivian cried, unable to stop herself from talking with a full mouth. “Itsch. . .UUURRPP. . .like. . .nofhing. . .ife. . .eber. . .taschted!” She lapped at the syrup. A puddle of syrup formed around her, bathing her in the life giving, fattening, viscous fluid. Yet, Vivian ate on, unable to stop herself.

From up in the tower, Beldam and Marilyn watched the display. “Sigh. . .I think we need to have another talk.” Beldam said, watching Vivian roll back and forth under the wellsprings of syrup. “Maybe see if she can take this to a farmer’s market or something. The walking would do her well at least.” The eldest sister pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head as she watched the fatty frolicking of Vivian. “We can’t let this go on our doorstep!” Meanwhile, Vivian was filling a bucket under a spigot, ready to dump it into her mouth.

--- Factory Level --

“Wow. . .this is quite the operation.” Goombella said as she walked into the factory. The structure looked odd within the boundaries of Twilight Town. It rested on the boundaries of the town, close enough to be seen but without causing a disruption to the decaying shacks and structures that had excited for generations. The small, know-it-all goomba was almost afraid to enter the steel and concrete building. There was something foreboding about its design that triggered deep worries within her. While not much of a detective, she was the smartest person within Rogueport and had built an impressive reputation. Besides, there was an air of mystery that she couldn’t turn away from. The owner of the factory was not known and the products had appeared out of the blue. The owner was known as the Syrup-Sultaness and that alone. The name had come from their product, a strain of syrup so tasty and delicious that it put all others to shame. Quickly, the syrup from the factory dominated store shelves around Rogueport. Goombella, having tried it herself, could not disagree with the consensus around it. She only wished to know more about the product and who created it. She stepped towards the large door but stopped and looked back. “Hey! You coming? I think I’m going to need back up in there.”

From the bushes emerged a familiar and much sought after man, Mario. The plumber had finally returned to Rogueport, coming at the behest of Goombella to help investigate the strange, twisted factory. As much as he loved The Mushroom Kingdom, Rogueport and the surrounding areas held a deep place in his heart. Many times he had wondered how his friends were doing.Now, with a potential threat, he saw it as the best time to return. He walked up slowly to the factory. It’s appearance was bizarre. Huge yet twisted and ill shaped, smokestacks and towers bent at unnatural and jagged edges. Spotlights beamed out into the heavens from within the gates of the factory. Even the inhabitants of Twilight Town, an odd bunch to be sure, were nervous about the building. Yet, answers lay within and only Mario and Goombella could drag them out. The mustachioed plumber walked up to the door and knocked thrice. A hollow clang sounded with each rap of his knuckles. He turned and shrugged at Goombella when no one answered. The pair slowly pushed the door open and entered.

Inside was much the same as outside. A series of metal tunnels and passages seemed to loop in on each other. No workers could be seen and not a soul moved. Yet, mechanical noises could be heard. Grinding of gears, clanking, and releases of steam came from the walls. Mario and Goombella jumped several times as a gout of steam poured from a pipe above their heads. However, they steeled themselves and moved deeper into the metal maze. Another sound started up as they moved. It was deeper than the other noises, a threatening under current that ran along everything else. A deep thump. It would sound here and there, often repeating three or four times in a row. “Wha. . .what is that?” Goombella asked, shrinking behind Mario. He stayed as silent as ever, but envisioned various big monsters inside his head. Though scared, their feet slowly followed the noise. As if they were drawn by magic, they chose the paths that led towards the noise. Other sounds joined the thumping. A heavy, drastic panting came along with it. Goombella drew close to Mario, hiding her small body behind him. She hoped that he had not neglected his training and fighting while back home.

The pair finally came to a large, red door. The sounds behind it were unbearably loud. The pounding, the breathing, the wet slapping noises. There was a cacophony of sound happening behind that door, none of it sounding good. “We. . .we can always go home!” Goombella ventured. “Just send a quick letter to the owner and see if they are doing anything illegal in there. I’m sure they would be truthful!” She spoke quickly, her words shaking as they left her mouth. Sadly and slowly, Mario shook his head. The only way forward was to go into the room. With a trembling hand, Mario pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Mario’s eyes took a minute to adjust after entering. The room was bright in comparison to the rest of the factory. His senses reeled. He could only smell an overpoweringly sweet smell. It was familiar, but so strong that it clouded his nasal passages. Putting a hand to his eyes, he slowly adjusted to the world around him. He was in a park of some kind, artificially created within the factory itself. Trees loomed around him, lined around the walls of the park. A fake, though powerful, sun shone down upon him from above. There was even the chirp of birds in the park. He marveled, eyes searching around the tree scape. He noticed that a network of pipes ran to and from the trees, forming a web of interlocking plumbing. Yet, there was a distinct path to the piping. He followed it with his eyes, tracing it down and down. Some of the pipes went out into other parts of the factory, but the largest ended at the far part of the room. It stopped just above a maroon structure, golden liquid flowing out. Mario walked closer, realizing that the structure was an immense bed of sorts. On the bed lay a large, purple form. Mario tilted his head, finding the form familiar. While he thought he knew who it was, he did not want to say the name. Instead he walked forward slowly.

“Vivian?!” It was Goombella who finally spoke. She launched the question out, running forward to approach the bed in the park. Indeed, it was Vivian. Immobilized and massive, she filled the triple wide bed easily. The pipe above her poured out golden liquid, filling her wide open mouth. Mario caught up, marveling at what had become of his companion. Vivian was close to unrecognizable. Breasts the size of her former self rested upon a gut that moreso resembled a boulder. Vivian, not realizing her friends had shown up unannounced at her factory, continued to work gorging herself. She tried to sit herself up to reach the pipe and the liquid, a deep and resonant thumping echoing from underneath the bed as she made the attempt. However, she was far too fat to stand or even sit up and succeeded only in further dousing her doughy flab in more syrup. Rivulets of syrup and sweat ran between her folds, outlining her many rolls in gold. Her buttcheeks fell off to either side of the bed, almost fat enough to touch the floor. Her stomach was a series of cascading rolls, flopped one on top of the other. Her arms, nearly useless from so much shaded fat, flopped uselessly at a pipe she could no longer reach. She alternated from gorging to trying to reach the pipe, panting heavily the whole time.

“Uuugggh. . .schoo. . .mmmpghp. . .sllllurrupp. . .closech.” She said, sipping and slurping at the torrent of syrup as it fell. “More. . .gotsch tah. . .mmmph. . .haf. . .more!” She cried in a sort of ecstasy. Goombella fell over, passing out from the shock of it all. Yet, Mario kept his composure. Whatever her current state, it was nice to see Vivian. He approached the bed. He had to put a hand on her soft blubber in order to stretch to reach the much sought after pipe. Vivian gasped as she felt his touch, shock tracing her face as she realized he was back and seeing her in such a sorry state. Yet, Mario simply grabbed the pipe and lowered it fully to her mouth. Vivian drank deeply from her comfort food, sucking down as much as she could from her feeding tube. Her arms, half as big as the syrup trees that lined her room, reached under her immense breasts to grab at her favorite folds. She didn’t know what to do or say, unable to think of anything to say to a man she loved; a man that was now catching her in the act of degenerate gorging. After a minute or two of uninterrupted gorging, Mario flipped a switch on the side of the pipe. The flow slowed and finally stopped for the first time since its implementation. It left Vivian with little choice but to talk. “Oh. . .Mario. I’m scho schoorry. . .UUURRRPP. . .I’m sush uh pig. . .sorry.” She said, not knowing how to respond.

Mario, man of action and not words, stood quietly for a second. Then, he simply hugged her. While he saw how much Vivian had changed, he also saw the ways in which she had remained the same. Though distended and warped, she still had her beautifully purple, shadowy skin. Though now it was even more real than before. No longer just a shadow, she was a full bodied woman. . .easily quadruple the woman she had been before. Her sank into her warm, sticky blubber. She smelled of syrup, having been bathed in it so many times. It was comforting and familiar, like the hug he had given on the streets of Rogueport a year and a half ago. Yet, for reasons he couldn’t quite put his fingers on, this one was much sweeter. “Mario. . .I’m. . .schoo glad. . .you’re back.” Vivian said, her cheeks impeding but not stopping her speech. She was a bedbound blob, but she finally had Mario back. She felt a blush spreading across her face. There was so much to catch him up on. The plants, her new factory (built by the lackluster hands of her sisters), her new business selling syrup. She was full to bursting with all of the things that she had to tell him. And, though she wasn’t sure if she could, there was one more thing she had to say to him.

“Mario. . .I missched you. . .it wasch scho hard.” She started, not letting him out of her pillowy hug. He was trapped in a swamp of blubber, though he didn’t mind. “I. . .never got to. . .tell you. . .on the docksch. . .I. . .wanted to say. . .”

--- Epilogue: Paper Mario and the Thousand Pound Woman ---

“Wahoo! Yippee!” Mario exclaimed, unable to stop himself as he jumped around the network of pipes in the syrup room. The small man bounded from pipe to pipe, using a wrench and elbow grease to tighten and otherwise adjust the crooked job that Beldam and Marilyn had done setting up the network in the first place. While smart, Beldam seemed incapable of making anything that did not look at least a little sinister. Marilyn, well, was just herself during the construction. This had led to a confusing network of pipes that stretched across the room. They were leaky, dripping syrup at random intervals. The droplets fell down, bouncing and rolling onto a vast purple sea of fat. Vivian’s growth had not slowed down, rather, it had increased five-fold. Mario had helped arrange the pipes, making the transport of the syrup much more efficient. Torrents of syrup now gushed into the blushing, purple blob at all hours. She was filled to bursting over and over, with her traditionally messy way of enjoying syrup now even easier to accomplish. Her bulk had grown and spread, eeking over the room noticeably every week. Vivian had grown from a pile of fat into a hill and finally was beginning to turn into a mountain.

Stacked against the far wall, her bed long buried under her enormous buns, Vivian sloppily sucked from her feeding pipe. Golden rivers of syrup poured down from her mouth, drenching her vast series of chins and neck folds. Her arms, long rendered useless piles of pudge, flapped eagerly as she continued to devour her syrup. “Thisch. . .isch. . .the highescht. . .BBBRRRUUUPPP. . .yeild. . .yet!” She paused only to gush to Mario. The plumber, needing a break from his work, jumped from the pipe he was on and landed on Vivian’s stomach. A wave worked slowly through her fat, making her undulate slowly. Vivian giggled, tickled by the way her rolls rubbed against each other. Little bubbles of syrup sprouted up here and there, squelching out due to the applied pressure. Mario hopped his way up, having to use his mountain climbing skills to work his way to the summit of Vivian. At the top he and she stared down at the unending blubber. Her breasts reached almost to the floor now, almost the size and shape of small ship dinghies. “Thanksch. . .UUURRRPP. . .ah-gain. . .Mario.” Vivian smiled, her smile warmer thanks to the line of syrup that colored her lips. Mario leaned in and kissed her, taking the initiative as always.

Vivian, that fateful day that he had arrived in her room, had finally expressed her feelings fully. She had confessed her love to the italian plumber. He had reciprocated in kind, holding her hand and kissing her. Vivian thought she might have died of joy right then and there. However, she managed to hang on, enjoying a blissful couple of months thereafter. Her business was booming, her sisters were kind to her, and she now had the love that she had always been seeking. While she was different than she anticipated, not ever planning to become a blobbish syrup hog, she could not have asked for anything more. She craned her neck as much as she was able, having to heave her heavy cheeks and chins over, and kissed Mario back even harder. She felt him cradle a shoulder roll. While strange even to herself, she could not deny that her body gave ample opportunity for romance. There were so many nooks and soft crannies for Mario to rub and massage. Vivian broke her kiss to giggle as the flow of syrup poured onto her. The flow of the sugary liquid never ceased, either being devoured or dumping onto her mountainous folds. Currently, she felt the torrent of golden liquid pouring down her. “I shou. . .schould. . .probably eat more. . .” Vivian started, wanting to drift back to her feeding tube. However, a firm but loving hand kept her from turning away. She blushed as she kissed him again. There was always more time for feeding. Besides, she didn’t mind being a little sloppy.