All right, so… I’ve been working on writing fat/muscular variants for the remaining city encounters for a while now, and I think I’ve gotten everything covered well enough to post what I’ve got. At any rate, I hope so.
The drunk’s encounter was actually very easy to edit. They don’t try to eat you, and they have a perfect excuse for attacking someone who’s ten times their size, so there’s only this one line from the initial encounter text that needed any editing:
[He/She] stumbles into you and nearly knocks you to the ground.
Here are a couple variants to cover the cases where you’re big:
Fat variant
[He/She] stumbles into you, squishing heavily into your [___-sized] belly.
Muscle variant
[He/She] stumbles into you, bumping hard against your hardened muscles.
And now, the pièce de résistance: The Takeout Terror. He’s less like a monster and more like a mirror image of yourself if you’re very fat, so I thought it would be fun to lean into that aspect a bit here and there. Here’s what I’ve got:
Encounter, normal variant (fixes some typos and accounts for height)
You’re brought up short as a hugely fat [species] waddles towards you–practically so wide that there’s no space in the street to avoid him. The ground shakes beneath his thunderous footfalls. His shirt and denim pants are bursting at the seams, his belly so bloated it hangs past his knees. He resembles a hot-air balloon stuffed into a set of clothes. Obviously having been gorging for hours, the [species] is occupied greedily devouring something from a crumpled parchment bag, accompanied by a strong smell of fried food, but as you watch he balls the now-empty bag up and tosses it away, obviously STILL not satisfied. Catching sight of you, he pants, “Hey, y-you there! You’ve gotta lend me some GOLD!” His enormous middle emits a subterranean rumble, and he adds desperately, “You don’t understand, I just… gotta get some more CHOW!” A slightly crazed look enters his food-fuddled gaze, and he [looms over you like a wrecking ball (short)/begins to salivate noticeably as he looks you over (tall)]. “In fact… you’re looking mighty tasty there… if you’ve not got any gold maybe I’ll j-just eat YOU!”
Encounter, fat variant
You’re brought up short as a hugely fat [species] waddles towards you–practically so wide that there’s no space in the street to avoid him. The ground shakes beneath his thunderous footfalls. His shirt and denim pants are bursting at the seams, his belly so bloated it hangs past his knees. He resembles a hot-air balloon stuffed into a set of clothes. Obviously having been gorging for hours, the [species] is occupied greedily devouring something from a crumpled parchment bag, accompanied by a strong smell of fried food, but as you watch he balls the now-empty bag up and tosses it away, obviously STILL not satisfied. Catching sight of you, he pants, “Hey, y-you there! You’ve gotta lend me some GOLD!” His enormous middle emits a subterranean rumble, and he adds pleadingly, “You understand, don’t you? I just… gotta get some more CHOW!” He seems to notice something behind you, and a slightly crazed look enters his food-fuddled gaze. “Actually, m-maybe I could just…” You look over your shoulder to see an obviously inebriated [other species] staggering off up the alley. [He’s/She’s] singing a bar song off key at the top of [his/her] lungs, and [his/her] bloated stomach sloshes with each unsteady step. Turning back to the [takeout terror’s species], you notice he’s begun to salivate noticeably. He tries to squeeze past you, but the alley wasn’t designed with fatties like you two in mind. You squirm as his blubbery bulk squashes against yours, threatening to jam you in place between the walls. Thankfully, he gives up and steps back before you actually get stuck, his fat rolls heaving up and down as he pants from exertion. The [takeout terror’s species]'s expression shifts to one of rage, and he snarls, “[He’s/She’s] MINE, you hear? Get out of my way or I’ll run right over you!”
Encounter, muscle variant
You’re brought up short as a hugely fat [species] waddles towards you–practically so wide that there’s no space in the street to avoid him. The ground shakes beneath his thunderous footfalls. His shirt and denim pants are bursting at the seams, his belly so bloated it hangs past his knees. He resembles a hot-air balloon stuffed into a set of clothes. Obviously having been gorging for hours, the [species] is occupied greedily devouring something from a crumpled parchment bag, accompanied by a strong smell of fried food, but as you watch he balls the now-empty bag up and tosses it away, obviously STILL not satisfied. Catching sight of you, he pants, “Hey, y-you there! You’ve gotta lend me some GOLD!” His enormous middle emits a subterranean rumble, and he adds desperately, “You don’t understand, I just… gotta get some more CHOW!” He catches sight of something behind you, and a slightly crazed look enters his food-fuddled gaze. “Actually, m-maybe I could just…” You look over your shoulder to see an obviously inebriated [other species] staggering off up the alley. [He’s/She’s] singing a bar song off key at the top of [his/her] lungs, and [his/her] bloated stomach sloshes with each unsteady step. Turning back to the [takeout terror’s species], you notice he’s begun to salivate noticeably. He tries to squeeze past you, but you plant your muscular bulk firmly in his way, blocking his path. The [takeout terror’s species]'s expression shifts to one of rage, and he snarls, “Get out of my way or I’ll run right over you!”
In-battle description (He actually didn't have one before)
Your opponent is a massively obese [species] who reeks of fried food. Even though he’s obviously been gorging for hours, his massive midsection is still rumbling with hunger, and he’s not about to let you get between him and his next meal.
Grab, fat variant
Your hugely obese opponent makes a sudden lunge at you, taking you by surprise. His blubbery bulk SER-MACKS against yours, sending ripples through both of you as he goes for a headlock. However, he struggles to reach your neck, as your own oversized belly squishes back against his and keeps him at arm’s length. Try as he might, he can’t get his arm around any part of your blubber-bloated body, and he eventually has to pull away, panting and heaving as he tries to catch his breath.
Grab, muscle variant
Your hugely obese opponent makes a sudden lunge at you, taking you by surprise. His blubbery bulk SER-MACKS against you and he manages to get one fat arm wrapped around you in a headlock. However, while his arms may be big, yours have a lot more muscle. Having recovered from your initial surprise, you manage to pull his arm off and give him a hefty shove, sending the very hefty [species] staggering backward. His oversized backside hits a nearby wall with a heavy THUMP–it’s a wonder that the collision doesn’t knock the wall down.
(Note: These also preclude the possibility of you getting devoured at large sizes, since he can’t do that without grabbing you first.)
Victory (minor edit to account for height)
The massively obese [species] staggers one last time and teeters precipitously on his [feet], until the weight of his backside pulls him down with a THUMP that makes the surrounding buildings shake, accompanied by a RRIP as his clothes finally burst apart. He moans and topples onto his back, belly rising up [above the top of your head/level with the top of your head/level with your chin/level with your chest/level with your waist/almost to your waist], heaving in time with his panting breath. Looks like this guy won’t be hassling anyone anytime soon–not until he can get up.
Run failed!, fat variant
You turn around and start waddling down the alley as fast as your mountainous flab will allow. The supersized [species] waddles after you, his vast middle still rumbling with a supersized hunger. The din of your booming, earth-shaking footsteps echoes all through the alley, and a few half-awake residents peek out their windows to gawk at the two titanic fatties stomping through town. Eventually, the [species] starts to fall behind, panting heavily as he tires. You try to look back over your shoulder at him, but while you’re not watching where you’re going, you trip. You pitch forward and slam down onto your gargantuan gut with a THUD that can be heard for miles around. By the time you manage to climb to your feet, the [species] has caught up and caught his breath again.
Escaped!, fat variant
You turn around and start waddling down the alley as fast as your mountainous flab will allow. The supersized [species] waddles after you, his vast middle still rumbling with a supersized hunger. The din of your booming, earth-shaking footsteps echoes all through the alley, and a few half-awake residents peek out their windows to gawk at the two titanic fatties stomping through town. Eventually, the [species] starts to fall behind, gasping for breath as he tires. You look back over your shoulder to see him stop and lean against a wall, gasping and wheezing. He’s still standing there as you turn a corner, leaving the [species] out of breath and out of luck.
(Note: I could revisit this to add Escape variants for muscle, but for now, my main focus was writing an alternative for when you’re too fat to squeeze past each other.)
Submit (gold), fat or muscle variant
A look of gluttonous glee spreads over the super-fattened [species]’s face as you hand over 8 gold. “Oof, thanks, I- BURRP!-just got time to make it for DESSERT!” He turns around and waddles off down the alley, leaving you poorer but unharmed.
(Note: I think the Submit text where you give him food is acceptable as-is. You could indeed be disgusted with yourself for letting yourself get bullied at larger sizes.)
Submit (no food or gold), fat or muscle variant
With a sigh you rummage in your inventory, but find yourself embarrassingly short of cash. You frantically look for some food as a substitute, but as you’re doing so, the enraged [species] suddenly charges at you. He catches you off guard and slams his mammoth midriff into you, knocking you off balance. You…
(leads into corresponding “Defeated” text, starting at “stagger backwards”)
Defeated, fat variant
Too weak to continue fighting, you stagger backwards and fall over onto your back with an earth-shaking BOOM. You feel the ground continue to tremble as the super-fattened [species] draws near, his gargantuan gut squishing against yours as he leans in. Undeterred by the slope of your tremendous, bulging belly, he begins climbing right over you! You gasp as he adds his own colossal weight to your own, crushing the breath out of you. The pain and lack of air prove too much for you, and your vision swims as you lose consciousness.
Defeated, muscle variant
Too weak to continue fighting, you stagger backwards and fall over onto your back with a heavy THUD. You feel the ground trembling as the super-fattened [species] draws near, his gargantuan gut looming over you and filling your field of vision. The underside of his massive, hanging belly is the last thing you see before he puts his full colossal weight on you. You quickly lose consciousness as he crushes you into the pavement.
And finally, as a bonus, here’s one more “Defeated” variant for when you’re REALLY fat. I’m not even sure this is really necessary, but while I was writing the standard fat variant, I thought to myself, “What if you’re so fat that he’s SMALL compared to you? Would it be believable that you’d pass out from having him climb over you? Could he even climb over you in the first place?” And so I ended up writing this variant too. I don’t know how he’d even see the drunk behind you if you’re this big, but if you want to use it anyway, here it is:
Defeated, REALLY fat variant
Too weak to continue fighting, you stagger backwards and fall over onto your back with an earth-shattering BOOM. The ground continues to tremble as the super-fattened [species] draws near, but a moment later, you hear him curse in frustration. Your belly is so mind-blowingly massive that it rises up higher than the top of his head and almost blocks the entire alley from wall to wall. Shifting your unimaginable weight is out of the question, and his grease-slicked [hands] are unable to grip your countless layers of flab well enough for him to climb over you. He’s forced to turn around and waddle back the way he came, grumbling at his bad luck. You’re far too exhausted to even think about getting up, but as you drift off into unconsciousness, you can at least take some satisfaction in knowing that your sheer bulk has impeded his rampage a bit.
